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A LinkedIn Rant

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I keep seeing the LinkedIn crowd hyperventilating because we’re supposedly “over-indexed” on generalists.

Spare me, bruh.

Most of these “specialist” roles are just catch-all gigs with a fancy title to hide the mess.

That superstar Marketing Manager you’re desperate for? That’s a generalist.

Real managers manage people and expectations. If they’re wasting hours in Canva, your strategy is already in hell.

And that web designer who also writes backend code?

That isn’t a specialist. That’s a human doing two jobs while you pay for one. Designers design; developers code. It’s not quantum physics.

So let’s translate “over-indexed” into English.

You aren’t drowning in generalists. You’re just annoyed that folks finally realized they deserve to be paid for the three different roles you shoved into a single job description.

Gary Vee’s Right Again

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I’ve had this thought stuck in my head on a loop. It’s playing louder than the intro to Californication.

Yeah, I watched it. Probably too many times. But let’s not dissect my viewing habits right now.

Here’s the actual wrestling match happening upstairs: Personal Brand vs. Business Brand.

It’s the difference between Dwayne Johnson and The Rock. One is a human being, the other is a character in spandex.

Gary Vee actually gets this right.

He warns that if you paint yourself into a corner as “The Crypto Guy” or “The SEO Girl,” you’re screwed four years later when you stop caring about Bitcoin or keywords.

Building your actual name is the only insurance policy that matters.

If you’re happy being the “One Thing” person until you die, have at it. Seriously. Go wild.

But that’s not me.

My brain is a beautiful mess that refuses to stay in one lane. I need to learn the hell out of everything, try stuff, and see how the scattered pieces actually fit together.

So, I’m betting on myself. I’m going the personal brand route.

I’m not here to sell you a rigid niche. I’m here to connect the dots you didn’t even know were related.

 

ChatGPT Could Get Freaky

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I told you the machines were coming for your hearts, not just your spreadsheets. You thought I was being dramatic.

Wrong.

OpenAI is about to flip the “adult only” switch.

We aren’t talking about helpful assistants anymore. We’re talking bots that flirt, sext, and drag you into the deep end. “Adult GPTs” are on the horizon, and it’s going to be a wild, beautiful mess.

I don’t deal in rumors, I listen to the signal.

Save this post. You can let me know when I’m right. My inbox is open.

Why Are Y’all So Scared To Train AI On Cuss Words

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I look at how companies train AI, and I smell fear. You want to capture the “human experience,” but you’re terrified of the actual mess that comes with it.

Let’s cut the nonsense: you’re scared of curse words.

Here’s the reality check. Nobody talks like a Victorian duke sipping lukewarm tea. We cuss. We vent. We use words that would make a LinkedIn influencer faint.

That is the human condition. It’s wild, dirty, and real.

If you want an AI that understands nuance—that actually gets the hell out of the uncanny valley—you have to teach it profanity. You can’t sanitize the soul out of language and expect a genuine connection. It just doesn’t work that way.

We all learned the F-word before we learned how to file taxes. Stop acting like it doesn’t exist.

Build it for the real world, or don’t build it at all. Simple.

Osiris and Mastery of the Mind

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The Breakdown

Let’s talk about jealousy. It’s a nasty color on anyone, even a god.

Set couldn’t handle Asuar’s (Osiris) swagger. The man was assured, grounded, and confident, so Set did what insecure cowards do: he tore him apart. Literally. He scattered Asuar’s pieces all along the Nile.

Now, don’t get distracted by the geography. The Nile here isn’t just water; it’s the subconscious. That murky, deep mess inside your head. Asuar’s scattered body parts? Those are your mental fragments when you’re falling apart.

 

The Missing Piece

When they tried to put the man back together, one crucial piece was missing: the phallus. His manhood. The drive.

Enter Auset (Isis). She is the real hero of this story. She didn’t just mourn him; she got to work. She realized the physical piece was gone, so she fashioned him a new one.

This is what love looks like. Not the Hallmark card fluff, but the gritty, “I see who you are” kind of love. Whether it comes from a partner or from deep inside yourself, that love reminded Asuar of his greatness. She rebuilt his confidence from scratch.

 

The Descent

Once he was whole, Asuar didn’t go back to the palace. He went to the underworld.

We call this the “dark night of the soul.” It’s that moment at 3:00 AM when you’re staring at the ceiling, facing your absolute lowest self. It’s hell.

But here’s the twist: Asuar didn’t just survive the underworld; he took it over. He rose as the netjer of resurrection. He became King of the Underworld not because he died, but because he mastered the darkness.

 

The Verdict

Set thought he was destroying Asuar. In reality, he was just the friction.

Set was the necessary obstacle that forced Asuar to stop coasting and start conquering. You don’t become a king by sitting in the sun. You become a king by walking through hell and coming out the other side with a grin.

Yemaya’s Day

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It’s Saturday. In the Yoruba tradition, that means we’re standing in Yemonja’s house. Or Yemaya, depending on who you’re talking to.

You ever feel like the universe is chewing you up and spitting you out? Like the waves are bashing you against the rocks just for sport?

If you’re drowning in the mess, today is the day to ask for a lifeline. You’re looking for that maternal energy that says, “Yeah, life is hell, but I’ve got you.”

Just don’t get it twisted. Yemonja isn’t some soft, cookie-baking caricature. She’s the ocean. She’ll hold you while you cry, but she’ll also smack you upside the head if you’re acting like a fool. It’s that necessary, tough love.

If you need that specific blend of sanctuary and a reality check, try saying this. Call it a prayer, a spell, or just a desperate conversation with the ceiling.

 

The Prayer

“Mother Yemonja, I’m in the weeds.

Life is riding me hard and I can’t catch a break. You control the tides; do me a favor and calm the hell out of mine.

I need to breathe. I need a pause. I need to stop treading water for five seconds.

Wrap me up in that deep blue silence. Let me rest. Remind me that the storm passes.

Thanks for the sanity check. Asé.”

Oshun’s Day

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It’s Friday. That belongs to Oshun.

She’s the patron saint of love, sex, art, and the kind of deep human pleasure that makes this whole mess worth living. Just look at her. She’s stunning, and more importantly, she knows it.

You’ll catch her staring in the mirror, not because she’s insecure, but because she genuinely digs the reflection. She wears the dress. She tastes the honey. She is the vibe.

Now, don’t get it twisted—she isn’t always sweet. She has a sharp edge, but we’ll save the scary stories for another round.

The lesson here is simple: Love the hell out of yourself.
And yes, if your mind is in the gutter, it applies to that too. For the folks in the back: respecting your own existence is the secret to the universe.

Here’s a prayer, a spell, or just a conversation with the divine to get your head right:
“Oshun, owner of the good life, help me find what actually makes me happy. Teach me to honor my own skin. Show me that loving myself isn’t arrogance—it’s survival. If my glass is empty, I can’t pour into anyone else. Help me fall in love with who I am, high and low. Ase.”

Light a candle if you want—yellow or white works best. Just try not to burn the house down while you’re having your epiphany.

Open AI In An Open Relationship and Gemini Gets Smarter

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OpenAI is cheating on Nvidia, Google’s AI figured out how to use a mouse, and the rest of the world is burning cash like it’s going out of style.

Welcome to the algorithmic circus. Here is the news from the mad house.

 

OpenAI is done with monogamy

They stopped staring deeply into Nvidia’s eyes and signed a massive deal with AMD. We’re talking 6 gigawatts of power and the right to buy 10% of the company.

This isn’t just buying chips. This is OpenAI securing the supply chain so they don’t starve. They aren’t playing 4D chess; they’re buying the board.

 

Google taught the machine to click

Gemini 2.5 can now use a computer. Literally. It fills forms, drags windows, and browses the web like it has digital thumbs.

The agents are getting competent. Next thing you know, it’ll be doing your taxes and ignoring your texts.

 

$375 Billion. That’s the tab.

Spending on AI infrastructure is up 67% this year.

Servers and data centers are the new oil fields. Everyone is staking a claim in this digital hellscape, hoping there’s actually gold underneath the silicon. It’s a gold rush, folks, and the shovel salesmen are the only ones guaranteed a payout.

 

Coding is dead. Editing is in.

OpenAI is in “ship or die” mode. One team built a product in six weeks using 80% AI-generated code.

Developers aren’t builders anymore. They are just proofreading what the machine hallucinates. If you’re precious about your code, you’re already obsolete.

 

The doors are wide open

Perplexity’s new browser got hit with “CometJacking,” an exploit that tricks the AI into handing over your private data.

Meanwhile, 77% of sensitive leaks happen because employees copy-paste company secrets into chatbots. Your biggest security threat isn’t a master hacker. It’s an intern trying to finish a report before happy hour.

 

The suits are late to the party

The UN is launching a global “Independent Panel” to discuss AI governance.

It’s a nice “gesture.” But let’s be real—by the time the bureaucrats agree on a meeting time, the machines will be running the calendar.

Obatala’s Day

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So, it’s Obatala’s day. Time to cool your jets and actually pay attention to what’s going on inside that skull of yours.

But let’s get one thing straight: the Orisha of the White Cloth isn’t soft. He didn’t get this wise by playing it safe in the shallow end.

He raised plenty of hell as Ayaguna. His calm isn’t weakness, it’s the quiet confidence of a guy who has already won the bar fight and doesn’t need to prove it anymore.

If your brain is buzzing like a cheap drink spiked with cutwaters, try throwing this out to the universe:

The Invocation

Obatala, keep my head cool when the world is on fire.

Give me the grit to realize that not every fool deserves a response.

Remind me that drama is a cheap drug and peace is the real high.

Let me sit still without the guilt trip.

Doing nothing isn’t lazy—it’s the only way to keep from burning the whole house down.

Asé.

 

How Eshu Helps Me See What’s Broken

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Being able to see both sides like the Orisha Eshu—is the only way to stay sane in this business.

Let me break it down.

Folks like to write Eshu off as a trickster. Don’t let that lazy narrative fool you. It’s a lesson in perspective.

Picture Eshu walking the crossroads of a village. He’s wearing a robe—red on one side, black on the other. The sun is beating down like hellfire, so he takes a sip from his gourd and listens.

Two farmers are working on opposite sides of the road. Best friends since the sandbox.

The farmer on the right looks up and yells, “Look at the guy in the red robe standing in the heat.”

The farmer on the left squints from under his hat. “Nah, you’re tripping. He’s wearing all black.”

Eshu just smirks and keeps walking.

The friends start yapping.
 “You’re crazy.”
“You’re drunk.”

Suddenly, it’s not about the robe anymore. It’s personal. Tools get dropped, fists go up, and they’re rolling around in the dirt, trying to knock the sense into each other.

Eshu steps in before they kill each other. “Enough. You’re both right, and you’re both blind.”

He turns slowly.

The men finally see the other side of the robe. The silence is loud. They realize they were ready to bleed over half a truth.

I look at AI the exact same way.

There’s the view from the inside and the view from the outside. Until you’ve walked down the middle of the road, you don’t know how the machine actually works.

I’ve seen the same mess in Media and Insurance.

Here is the reality: These systems aren’t gods. They’re tools. They are fragile, they are flawed, and they will continue to break.

Stop picking a side and open your eyes to the whole fractured picture.