About April

I live at the end of the Laterite Highway, in a town that exists at the intersection of satellite internet and institutional optimism. I teach people about artificial intelligence for a living, which is a sentence that sounds more impressive than it feels when your classroom projector takes nine minutes to connect and the humidity has opinions about your laptop's thermal performance.

Before this, I lived elsewhere. Several elsewheres, in fact, across enough countries and languages that I sometimes start a sentence in one and finish it in another without noticing until someone's expression tells me I've switched. I ended up in cybersecurity, then in digital literacy, then in whatever this is — the person who stands at the front of the room and explains how a language model works to an audience that would very much prefer a shorter answer.

I am, by my own honest assessment, a pseudo AI expert. I say this not as false modesty but as accurate labelling. The field moves fast enough that expertise has a half-life of about six weeks, and I have chosen to be honest about that rather than pretend otherwise. What I do have is the ability to explain complicated things clearly, a high tolerance for ambiguity, and the kind of stubbornness that keeps you reading documentation at midnight because you refuse to not understand something.

NTellgencya World is the name I gave this place. The names are invented. The feelings are not. Pandanus Reach is a real town with a fictional name, and the Laterite Highway is a real road that I have driven too many times in weather that does not respect the speed limit or the structural integrity of windscreens. The institutions are renamed, the geography is lightly disguised, and the crocodiles are, unfortunately, entirely literal.

I built this site because I needed somewhere to put the things I was writing that didn't belong inside an institutional content management system. Things about what it's actually like to teach AI in 2026, in a place where the infrastructure gap between ambition and reality could swallow a utility vehicle. Things about cybersecurity that I wanted to tell as stories, not as compliance modules. Things that didn't fit anywhere else and needed a home that wasn't someone else's platform.

There are three rooms in this carnival. You're welcome in all of them.