For March we'll do some very basic history— not even History 101 but remedial History 001. Let's say some years.

So the bottom line from my two or three degrees in U.S. history: Americans have lost the narrative thread. They came back from the kitchen and now they can't follow the movie. ("Who's that guy?") They haven't a clue what's going on. Sure, of course things are going badly in the Chinese Century, but the root problem is not so much that the ship of state is flying toward a mountain, but that it is flying blind.

So— when my nephew was not learning how to talk, the speech therapist— lovely, young, keenly anticipated— came over and did the dumbest thing. We thought she'd make him talk, but instead she had him blowing bubbles. Bubbles? Well, turns out that's excellent practice for controlling your breathing and muscles, plus feeling good for doing something besides failing to speak. Who knew— experts know stuff.

So let's say some years.

(Bell rings.) OK we'll pick up there next time.

Read these in the browser! Robert Wellman Campbell, "How to Say the Years: Blowing Bubbles," RSS Longa, 5 March 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

This month we're watching deepfake companies make fools of themselves. To be fair, this last one is pretty:

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I posted this the day the Border Patrol's Gregory Bovino was fired. The pun is that this Minneapolis landmark is called the IDS. Later I wanted to clarify it to ADIOS ICE but I had reached Google's usage limit.

Look at this animation of drafts. Fascinating how everything shifts a little, like clouds in successive photos, and how the reflected clouds become lit-up windows.

As all teachers know, plagiarism is the ancient art of shmushing documents together. Apparently many deepfake programs can't not shmush, even when asked for plain reality. Because no, there's no six-lane megastreet under the IDS, and no mega-skyway covering the sidestreet like a double-decker bridge.

Even the earliest railroads connected you to real places. Three years in these are still connecting you to baloney.

Just as there's no basement at the Alamo— or is there? The generic brown towers are fantasy too. And get those— people?— out of the street! “Pee-wee's Big Adventure (9/10) Movie CLIP - The Alamo Tour (1985) HD,” YouTube. “Pee-Wee Herman Finds The Alamo Basement,” YouTube. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Deepcake: Adios ICE," RSS Longa, 26 February 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

This month we're mocking deepfakes. Today's is less funny and more strange. Don't look at me.

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Somewhere I was saying that the greatest of all forestry words is surely buttsnap. (Buttsnap is when wind breaks trees near the ground.) Then, channeling Airplane! and laughing at the name, I idly wondered if anyone had used it.

Well, Google hooked it in a whole new direction. What on Earth? I searched around and watched the movie, and of course I found no connection. Apparently a strange case of sycophancy, the tendency of large language models to be yes-men.

Wow! Utter incompetence. These things will say anything.

Not a bad movie. I like the link for separating truth from fiction. All of this month’s examples happen to be from Google, and in chronological order: 2023-12-28, 2024-06-15, 2025-05-01. Not obvious progress. Shirley, Netflix, 2024. Airplane! Paramount Pictures, 1980, clip on YouTube. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Deepcake: Shirley Buttsnap," RSS Longa, 19 February 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

For February we're watching the deepfake factories piling it higher and deeper. Today, a geographical question which I have definitely heard from many real human people:

. . . how far is SD to MN?

Now obviously the correct answer is: "uhhhh . . ." But those numbers are odd. 236 miles is downtown Sioux Falls to downtown Minneapolis— urban-elitist but not crazy. And you gotta love the point-seven. Confident dummies have long been a staple of comedy.

But 270? Huh? A 270-mile arc from Minneapolis, St. Paul, Sioux Falls or Pierre reaches . . . Stickney? Plankinton? Ipswitch? Ypsilanti? Are they just going for funny names?

Last week Google randomly brought up Glen Campbell. All right— By the Time I Get to . . . Woonsocket? She'll be . . . confused?

The Minnesota names were not nearly as funny. That song has an interesting backstory. Jimmy Webb, “By the Time I get to Phoenix,” recorded by Glen Campbell, Capitol Records, 1967, YouTube and Wikipedia. Robert Wellman Campbell, RSS Longa, 4 September 2025 and 5 February 2026. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Deepcake: By the time I get SD to MN," RSS Longa, 5 February 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

February 2026 is still a dark month, so let's just have fun dumping on the deepfake industry. Justly.

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This is my favorite. When I hear that song now I always laugh at the F road to my hoCrizon. Confident dummies have long been a staple of comedy.

You see the irony. I was thinking about the edge of optical character recognition— really just wondering if anyone had called it the hOCRizon— when the third largest company on Earth demonstrated the limits of OCR by volunteering gibberish about airplanes, surgery and Glen Campbell.

There's been a load of compromising, all right, and a load of BS. On the farm we avoided the bull but mostly the cowpies, and this is some deepfake deepcake.

But mostly I just like the F road to my hoCrizon. Optical character recognition is when computers look for letters in images, for example to "read" scans of books. The Google screenshot is from 28 December 2023. Larry Weiss, "Rhinestone Cowboy," 1974, recorded by Glen Campbell, Capitol Records, 1975, YouTube. Optical character recognition, Wikipedia. BS: RSS Longa, August 2025. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Deepcake: The F road to my hoCrizon," RSS Longa, 5 February 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Finishing a January of fakescapes. Pop quiz!

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First to quiz Photoshop: Using that same panorama where I really did oops leave a blank pane, I later created another blank box (above), just to have Photoshop create three alternative fills.

And then to quiz you: it's the old game of "one of these things is not like the other." Try to find the true one:

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(If the picture above does not change every few seconds, click it to open in a new tab. If that does not work click this, this, this and this to open in tabs.)

"Of course," to quote John Clark of the University of Kansas, "it's bullshit." I certainly can't identify those— species?— that Photoshop conjured. It's vegetation in the way that paisley is vegetation. But, as Joseph Heller said, "If the figure is a lie, it is a very impressive lie." It would probably fool most of us, i.e. make us more foolish, i.e. make us more demented.

Sorry for the low resolution. This may not be the quote Clark would have chosen to have remembered, but it's the one that delighted grad students. I shot the second one, with spruce branches coming from Christmas trees not from vegetatish blobs. Vegetatish (in English) is a Google Gooseegg. "Sesame Street - One Of These Things - food and mitten - Bob (1969)," YouTube. Joseph Heller, Picture This, Putnam, 1988, pages 18, 100, 313 according to Google Books. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Landscapes: Take your quiz," RSS Longa, 29 January 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

For January Photoshop is faking me some landscape. Last week I showed the resulting image, but I lied— Photoshop actually spat out three options:

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(If the picture above doesn't change every few seconds, click on it to open it in a new tab. If that still doesn’t work, open this, this and this in tabs.)

In the words of an old song, "Two men say they're Jesus. One of them must be wrong." How can these be so different yet all look fine? And which would you pick?

Dire Straits, "Industrial Disease," Vertigo Records, 1982. My vote is for the middle one, because of the top, the sunbeams, and #3's senselessly sun-kissed grass. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Landscapes: Take your pick," RSS Longa, 22 January 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

For January we’re letting the technology of the moment make some— fake some— landscapes.

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Hey, devil his due— that's some good fakery! Can you tell the fake part without peeking at last week?

My language keeps shifting, even since last week. Artificial intelligence is ridiculous; intelligence means discerning or differentiating, precisely what these programs don't do. The technical terms are fine— generative pre-trained transformers (the GPT in ChatGPT) and large language models (hence large data centers)— but are hardly catchy or clear. Chatbot is true but too narrow.

So for now I'm going with deepfake. Adjective noun. The deepfake industry. Fakers. Deepfake factories. Deepfaketories, trashing the sky like 1840s Manchester. Fighting the rechargeries.

Also sounds like CityNerd. Photoshop 2026, release 27.1.0, MacOS 15.6.1. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Deepfake Landscapes: Hey not bad!" RSS Longa, 15 January 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Note to loyal readers: Sorry for last week— I've now missed two posts for flu. Feeling better now. And by the way, you should read these posts in a browser. Email programs often mangle them.

OK let's get started. January is more chatbot experiments, following August and September. This time making fake landscape photos.

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So, the bad old days: Twelve years before ChatGPT, Photoshop introduced "Content-Aware Fill." If, say, a handsome historian oops forgot to shoot one pane in a panorama of the swimming hole by Nemo, Photoshop could "fill" that distracting black box for him, with pixels that kinda-sorta looked like the surroundings:

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Yeech. Next week: can the current generation can do any better?

Of course our historian always boxed and labeled the fake fill. Though sometimes subtly— a bottle of pop to the first man to find both at the School of Mines. Robert Wellman Campbell, "S.D. School of Mines, 1956-2024," robbcampbell.com. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Chatbot Landscapes: The bad old days," RSS Longa, 8 January 2026, public domain via CC0 1.0.

December was is Title Trousseau. I missed the first Thursday so there are only three gifts. Poul Friis Nybo, Mädchen an ihrer Aussteuertruhe (Girl Inspecting Her Hope Chest), Wikimedia Commons. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Gethsemane Sam," RSS Longa, 25 December 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

For example. Though in his autobiography Frank Capra said it was 26. December is Title Trousseau. This appears to be a Google Gooseegg. Poul Friis Nybo, Mädchen an ihrer Aussteuertruhe (Girl Inspecting Her Hope Chest), Wikimedia Commons. Robert Wellman Campbell, "28edness," RSS Longa, 18 December 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

No post last week, out sick. December is busy so it’s Title Trousseau. Use this unused title in good health and public domain. Poul Friis Nybo, Mädchen an ihrer Aussteuertruhe (Girl Inspecting Her Hope Chest), Wikimedia Commons. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Nothing Californium Can Stay," RSS Longa, 11 December 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Here's your herstory: this is the winter of our discontent. November 2025 Americans are bummed like 1974. And like 1974 the solution is to listen to Queen before work.

But we're almost through the dark; ten days from now (in this part of the world) the sun will start staying up later.

And meanwhile, winter's lovely. Here is Mr. Mercury saying so, on his deathbed, looking out his Swiss window, in his last song:

Ooh it's bliss. November was Queenisthenics. Queen, "A Winter's Tale," Hollywood Records, 1995. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Queenisthenics IV," RSS Longa, 27 November 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Attention America: You feel sad. You need Queen.

One mathematical notion for this historical moment is the intersection of the cyclical and the secular. The days are short and the gilded age is long. So we're hanging out in the third quadrant.

So start your day by challenging the mighty titan and his troubadour:

And defying the laws of nature, of course. For November we’re doing Queenisthenics. Queen, "Seven Seas of Rhye," EMI Records, 1973. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Queenisthenics III," RSS Longa, 20 November 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Attention America: You feel sad. You need Queen.

This came from the, uh, least great album Queen ever made, and Mr. Mercury appears unwell— and they still had fun. So start your day by playing this cheesy, cheesy, cheesy song:

November is Queenisthenics. At 1:58 there is also a nice illustration of the piston effect, the buildup of air pressure which the Chunnel etc. must deal with, marring the breakthrough. Dr. May, an expert on the velocity of space dust, was likely chagrined. Queen, "Breakthru," Capitol Records, 1989. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Queenisthenics II," RSS Longa, 13 November 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

So here's some history: November 2025 Americans were sad. Dark time of the year, dark time of the century. Good time for some Queenisthenics.

Of course one great way to start your day is with calisthenics. I always think of the old guy in Northern Lights.

But more often I just blow out the lines by playing this:

Who looks very much like my grandfather. John Hanson, Rob Nilsson, Northern Lights, 1978. Queen, "It's a Beautiful Day," Hollywood Records, 1995. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Queenisthenics I," RSS Longa, 6 November 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Hey, the ladies from last week got up! October ends on a happy note.

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And an Arbuckles’ coffee ad nailed sideways to this side of the tree too. This is just advertising? Because it was a frequently photographed spot? Hmm.

Here is How to View Stereopairs. William Richard Cross, "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S. D.," undated, Black Hills State University, Leland D. Case Library for Western Historical Studies, cross20120002. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S.D. (5)," RSS Longa, 30 October 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

OK, so we've been looking at couples in trees in Hot Springs-- because that would spur people to tour the Black Hills via rail? I guess? So now a new couple appears:

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Well that's fun. It may be that they were good sports. And the lady up the tree looks a bit like my grandmother Theodora.

Aw heck I may as well show you, they did this too:

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I guess you need snug shoes to climb trees? ?

I have always believed, by the way, that Arbuckles' is an honest coffee at an honest price. Here is How to View Stereopairs. William Richard Cross, two photos both entitled "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S.D.," undated, Black Hills State University, Leland D. Case Library for Western Historical Studies, cross20120002 and cross20120025. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S.D. (4)" RSS Longa, 23 October 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

Back to the trees! I guess this is what lovers did in Hot Springs? I guess?

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Boy, people and trees. But this is a new one for me. Theodore Roosevelt climbed the Matterhorn on his honeymoon (without Alice), and Woody Guthrie "had a little girl in a holler tree," but even Adam and Eve didn't climb the trees. Huh.

October is fun outside in Hot Springs. Note the board to help you up, and apparently the tiny tourist cabins. Here is How to View Stereopairs. William Richard Cross, "Couple on path through rock formations, Hot Springs, South Dakota," undated, Black Hills State University, Leland D. Case Library for Western Historical Studies, cross20120143. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S.D. (3)" RSS Longa, 16 October 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.

We're celebrating beautiful October with photos of fun outdoors. Same as last week: Hot Springs, S.D., promoting the railroad with views of tourist love. In fact the same couple, clothes and pose:

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Though contrasting with last week's excellent stereo, this typical composition of layers behind layers, like a popup book, with a couple of rocks plopped in the front. Eh. It’s OK.

But a lovely view, turned to look across the (hidden) Fall River to the Evans Hotel and the Seven Sisters range. And they're having fun.

Even ignoring the stereofog. Here is How to View Stereopairs. William Richard Cross, "Couple on path through rock formations, Hot Springs, South Dakota," undated, Black Hills State University, Leland D. Case Library for Western Historical Studies, cross20120143. Robert Wellman Campbell, "Lover's Glen, Hot Springs, S.D. (2)" RSS Longa, 9 October 2025, public domain via CC0 1.0.