I think the key shift is: don’t ask “what topics should I post about?” Ask “what units of thought deserve an address?”
\nBlygger changes the natural unit of publication. A fragment is not a tiny essay. It is an addressable semantic object: it has identity, history, provenance, and can later be transcluded into multiple larger constructions. The protocol explicitly separates atomic fragments from threads composed by transclusion, while preserving which version was incorporated.
\nThat suggests a very different publishing practice.
\nPost moves, not subjects
\nYour subjects are already abundant: protocols, thickets, Prime Radiant, AI, capitalism, geography, writing, institutions, history. Trying to come up with more subjects will probably slow you down.
\nInstead, publish whenever you make one intellectual move:
\nThe threshold I’d use is:
\nWould I want to be able to point to this exact thought six months from now?
\nIf yes, it deserves an ID.
\nThat is much lower than the traditional blogging threshold of “Do I have enough to say?”
\nAnd that lower threshold is not merely a convenience. It changes what kind of thinking becomes possible.
\nThe deeper effect is decomposition without loss of identity
\nOrdinary note-taking decomposes thought, but the fragments are private and usually disappear into later prose.
\nOrdinary blogging preserves identity, but at the level of the essay.
\nTwitter gives individual thoughts identity, but largely fixes their meaning to a moment in a stream.
\nBlygger does something stranger: it gives the pre-essay thought a durable public identity.
\nSuppose you publish:
\nF17: “AI allows an individual to build an ecosystem around their own idiosyncrasies.”
\nToday that might occur to you while thinking about personal software.
\nThree months later you might use F17 in a thread about protocols.
\nSix months later it might appear in something about craftsmanship.
\nLater still, perhaps it becomes relevant to your idea of the thicket.
\nThe important thing is that these are not four copies of the sentence. They’re four uses of the same intellectual object.
\nThat’s where the multidimensionality you are sensing comes from.
\nAn essay essentially says:
\nA → B → C → D → E
\nThe author determines the path.
\nA collection of independently addressable fragments can instead become something like a hypergraph:
\n Protocols\n / \\\n F17 —— F31\n / \\ \\\n AI Thicket Capital\n \\ |\n \\ F52\n \\ /\n Personal computing\nA thread is then one traversal through the graph, rather than the container in which the ideas permanently live.
\nThis is a profound inversion.
\nThe essay stops being the fundamental object. The idea becomes fundamental.
\nAnd this explains why you should resist finishing fragments
\nRao recently made an observation about Blygger that gets very close to this. He noted that even titling a thought can impose “functional fixedness”: declaring it to be about X suppresses possible associations with things that aren’t X. His term for the desirable opposite is “stem-celliness”—leave thoughts semantically undifferentiated until there’s a reason to specialize them.
\nI think that’s one of the most important emergent properties of the medium.
\nYour instinct may be to improve:
\nCapitalism becomes a force of nature when its externalities become planetary.
\ninto:
\nCapitalism, Climate and Natural Feedback Loops
\nCapitalism has traditionally…
\nDon’t.
\nThe first thing has more potential energy.
\nIt can become part of an essay on capitalism, climate, Hayek, cybernetics, ecology, governance, feedback systems, or the distinction between culture and nature.
\nThe second has already collapsed the wavefunction.
\nSo there are really two kinds of Blygger writing
\nI’d think of them as stem cells and organisms.
\nFragments should retain optionality.
\nThreads expend optionality to make an argument.
\nAnd critically, the organism does not consume the stem cell. Because transclusion preserves the fragment’s identity, the same fragment remains available for an entirely different organism later. Blygger’s versioning makes this more powerful still: the fragment itself can develop over time without silently rewriting what earlier threads quoted.
\nSo your publishing loop becomes:
\nnotice → publish → notice → publish → connect → revise → compose
\nrather than:
\nresearch → outline → draft → edit → publish
\nThat first loop should be dramatically faster.
\nThis also changes what “thinking in public” means
\nMost thinking-in-public systems are really showing unfinished work.
\nThis is subtly different.
\nYou’re creating public intellectual components.
\nThat gives other people—or AIs—a different affordance. They don’t have to respond to the argument as a whole. They can grab F17, combine it with one of their own fragments, disagree with F31, fork F52, or create a completely different traversal.
\nAnd because Blygger deliberately lacks a conventional reply primitive, response itself becomes publication: quote, transclude, fork, construct.
\nThat’s much closer to combinatorial culture than social media.
\nYou aren’t just increasing the number of utterances.
\nYou’re increasing the number of possible future compositions.
\nAnd that leads me to a slightly different interpretation of your thicket metaphor.
\nAn essay is a tree: trunk, branches, hierarchy, authorial direction.
\nA stream is a river: chronological, disappearing downstream.
\nA Blygger archive can actually become a thicket: persistent little things growing independently, crossing, grafting onto each other, becoming substrate for later growth, without any single privileged hierarchy.
\nThat means the right posting strategy is almost the opposite of traditional blogging:
\nPublish things before you know what they’re for.
\nNot sloppy things. Not every passing reaction. But well-formed thoughts whose eventual role remains unresolved.
\nIf I were adopting this seriously, I’d set myself one simple rule:
\nWhenever I notice a thought that makes one new distinction, connection, observation, question, or metaphor, and I would be annoyed if I couldn’t find it again, I blyg it.
\nThen every few weeks, don’t ask “What essay should I write?”
\nAsk:
\n“What structures have started appearing among these fragments?”
\nThat’s where I suspect the real payoff is. The higher posting rate isn’t the objective. Density comes first; structure emerges afterward.
\nAnd unlike Twitter, where higher posting frequency mostly produces more stream, here higher fragment density should eventually produce a richer space of traversable thought. That is the experiment I think is worth running.
\n