JWST Discovers Ancient Black Hole Older Than Its Own Galaxy
Maggie O’Farrell: ‘Fiction comes from what you don’t know’
From a young age, the author was told that one of her ancestors had drawn some of the first maps of Ireland. Then she found a photograph, and embarked on a journey to discover his story
Every family has its myths. In mine, we were told that one of our antecedents had worked on the first maps of Ireland. As a child, I used to picture a solitary person in unspecified period dress – a tailcoat, perhaps some kind of cravat – striding pensively about fields and mountains, pen in hand. On summer holidays, I would stare out of the window of our red car as Donegal or Galway rolled by and wonder that such a task could be achieved. How did one man set about drawing a map of a whole country, of these towns and strands and trees and rivers?
All myths comprise a great deal of fanciful embroidery through which runs the distinct thread of truth: time and retelling will always refract reality. This mapper preyed on my mind. I thought about him, always, when I travelled around Ireland. I thought about him in my final year of school, when my geography exam required me to analyse a square of an unknown map. I wanted, as I often do, to know more, about his life, his work, who he had been and how he had mapped.
Are ‘mind children’ the future of reproduction?
Forget dirty nappies. In Silicon Valley, there’s increasing chatter about virtual offspring
A few months ago, an AI researcher from Europe attended a dinner party in Silicon Valley. During one of the many courses, the host addressed his guests, all of whom worked in AI. The researcher paraphrased his message like this: “Isn’t it amazing that we are the last generation of humans who will need to think about procreating biologically? We were lucky enough to be born at a time where we can simply upload our consciousnesses instead.”
“I didn’t see that coming,” the researcher told me. “I was just enjoying my fish.”


