29 minutes ago · Culture · hide

I am in Madrid, listening to an unexpected deluge of rain and waiting to go to my next panel at Sui Generis, the literary festival I'm here for, and I gather that on the other side of the Atlantic the sky is falling. (Also, I haven't blogged for nearly three weeks, I've been forcibly refusing to work on the novel--I don't do that while I'm travelling--and the urge to write is now making my back teeth itch.) So: while I'm away from the office the music stopped, and Jensen Huang was caught out between two chairs, or mistresses, and now he's allegedly got the Wall Street Journal on his case. I say allegedly because the WSJ is paywalled to fuck, but Techpowerup is covering their exposé and, yup, it's about what everyone expected. Gosh, you wait forever for an Ed Zitron then three of them in a trench coat come along and swipe his lede: but one thing is certain, when the major oligarch-owned outlets start Pointing The Finger Of Blame, it means the steam caliope has sprung a leak, the…

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