Wygle Wide Web

A quiet field journal of digital archaeology. Reconstructing a life from 25+ years of digital traces, with occasional help from ChatGPT when things get weird or surprising.

We sailed away on a winter’s day
With fate as malleable as clay
But ships are fallible, I say
And the nautical, like all things, fades
And I can recall our caravel
A little wicker beetle shell
With four fine maste and lateen sails
Its bearings on Cair Paravel

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