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Everything Feels Like It Doesn't Make Sense

kyla.substack.com · 2,962 words · saved by 1 readers

This is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. I was in Chattanooga, Tennessee on Monday at the Litespeed bike manufacturing facility. I got to try welding - trying to lay the bead exactly right. You wear a giant helmet, which turns dark with the welding torch hits the titanium. It’s just you and this little beam of fire. It’s all you can see. On Tuesday, I was in Nashville and the parking garage connected to my hotel caught on fire at 2 a.m. We were all shuffled outside, the air thick with burning rubber. You could hear the gas tanks explode. Some people thought they were bombs. The firefighters laddered toward black, billowing smoke, and doused the garage. We shuffled back inside an hour later. I stared at the ceiling until 5 a.m., got up, did some work, spoke on stage at 10 a.m. to a wonderful crowd about the economy for young people, and then drove home to Louisville. I am currently trying to board a flight to

Everything Feels Like It Doesn't Make Sense Protests, incentives, and the contradiction of Gentle Singularity kyla scanlon Jun 11, 2025 659 105 133 Share Good morning from Tennessee! This is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. Subscribe The Volunteer State I was in Chattanooga, Tennessee on Monday at the Litespeed bike manufacturing facility. I got to try welding - trying to lay the bead exactly right. You wear a giant helmet, which turns dark with the welding torch hits the titanium. It’s just you and this little beam

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