Like Bulgakov’s Moscow, AI may seem autonomous -  but the real decisions shaping our world remain human. Responsibility cannot be outsourced to code, systems, or institutions.

AI is now part of our daily lives. That’s no longer speculative -  it’s fact.

It helps draft letters, write reports, summarise documents, answer questions, generate images, tutor students and increasingly shape how we access information. Whether we like it or not, it is here.

And yet, if you listen to public debate, you would think we have unleashed something monstrous.

We are warned that AI is dangerous. That it threatens democracy. That it could manipulate minds. That it might destabilise society. But let us look more closely...

On February 23, 1945 atop of Mount Suribachi on the southern end of the island photographer Joe Rosenthal captured the image of six Marines, raising an unfurling American flag.

The Battle of Iwo Jima was a key conflict in the Pacific Theatre of World War II, fought between the United States Marine Corps and the Imperial Japanese Army. It was one of the bloodiest and most intense battles of the war.

Iwo Jima is a small volcanic island located 750 miles south of Tokyo, Japan. The U.S. sought to capture it because it had Japanese airfields that were launching attacks on American B-29 bombers. The island could serve as an emergency landing site for U.S. bombers returning from missions over Japan. 

It would provide a staging ground for the planned invasion of Japan.

Moscow, 1930s. The Devil drops by for a visit. 

I first discovered this book in my youth. I have always had a fondness for old book stores and it was one day, back in the 70's that I was foraging through a load of dusty tomes in a Charlotte Street book shop in Brisbane that I sniffed out a new but strange book. Its title intrigued me. Perhaps as a young and somewhat optimistic young buck, I felt it might be a Russian version of " Lady Chatterley's Lover. "  I sauntered toward the cashier with a casual air and a look of student style indifference.  and paid a modest sum and chortled and sniggered smugly as I went back to my student digs to digest a night of Russian porn and the sensual delights of The Master and Margarita.  Oh, a good night ahead!

Yet what I had purchased for pennies turned out to be a life changing book for me and it had absolutely nothing to do with a gardener pulling weeds while guzzling bundy ginger beer and an older woman swooning at the sight of the gardeners youthful bare chest. I had been duped yet it was the best con I have ever fallen for. 

Mikhail Bulgakov was born in 1891 in Kiev, in present-day Ukraine. He first trained in medicine but gave up his profession as a doctor to pursue writing. He started working on The Master and Margarita in 1928 but due to censorship it was not published until 1966, more than twenty-five years after his death.

The book used crazy parable-like fantasy to jab at tyranny, yet he faced censorship and couldn’t publish freely in his lifetime. Even then, parody had its critics and censors. So what was it about?   How it ended up in a second hand bookstore in Brisbane for my humble self to grab is something I will never really be able to fathom. 

THE DUSTY GULCH GAZETTE

Special Investigative Edition

By Roderick (Whiskers) McNibble, Ledger-Sniffing Rodent

THE RETURN OF THE SHADOW EMUS -  AND THE PASSES THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING

From the moment they left, the Shadow Emus swore never to set foot on sunlit red dirt again. They abandoned Dusty Gulch, feathers slicked in defiance, wings sharp with ideology, and eyes fixed on the perpetual twilight beyond Dead Man’s Ridge, in the land the locals whisper about as Honklander territory.

They thrived there. They trained in subterfuge, memorised the rules of shadow, and learned that patience and quiet compliance could move mountains without ever touching the sun. For years, Dusty Gulch believed them gone for good. And then… the passes appeared.

Officially stamped. Officially endorsed. Somehow, improbably, valid.