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Jack Kairos

Jack Kairos

It's not Just Data.

We used to be protected by friction. If someone wanted to know what you said, they had to be there. They had to listen. They had to care. That effort, the act of witnessing, was part of the social contract. You could speak freely because you trusted the weight of the moment would carry your meaning.

Well, that's a long story.

Have you ever noticed that sometimes you need to live in a space before it tells you how it wants to live with you? That’s what I told Anna as we stood in her chaotic new apartment, overwhelmed by the boxes and the furniture that seemed to be fighting

Thoughts on wisdom

I don’t internalize wisdom because I hear it; I internalize it because I live it.

The Internet Never Forgets—But Should It?

Mistakes get screenshotted and immortalized, leaving people with a kind of digital scarlet letter.

The Drone with a Personality Problem

Maris Quinn pushed open the door of her isolated cabin, squinting against the pale sunlight filtering through the pine trees. A sharp breeze tugged at her coat as she zipped it up, boots crunching against the frost-laced ground. The creek babbled somewhere beyond the treeline, the occasional chirp of a

Is the Special Olympics Preventing Athletes from Competing in the Olympics?

The Special Olympics has been a powerful positive force in the lives of hundreds of thousands of people with intellectual disabilities, inspiring vast improvements in physical fitness and healthcare (it's healthy athletes program has helped more than 1.9 million people worldwide) as well as giving them the

Where the Arrow Points

An arrow shot across the sky. Observers watch with keen-eyed stare, Convinced the answer lay right there. Pointing to the truth afar. But eyes fixed on fleeting streak, Mistook the signal that it seeks. A moment's guide, a fleeting clue. Not the truth, but a nudge, Towards deeper

Cooking Up Hard Lessons

In early 2004, I returned to Oregon seeking a fresh start after two dark years shaped by hopelessness and bad choices. Alongside Ed, a sociopath to the core, I’d been pulled into a life of crime. In Los Angeles, things came to a head when we got involved with

Echoes of the Felled

I wrote this poem out of a sense of frustration with my current approach to a memoir I'm writing. I've come to realize that the story is less about me and more about the places where the events occurred and their history, stretching back to the

Forward Together

It feels like we're moving at warp speed, the world spinning faster than we can keep pace. The future looms, a vast unknown, stirring our collective anxiety. It's as if the zeitgeist itself is broadcasting a constant stream of fear and uncertainty. Feelings that, in truth,