Writings & Essays
The Punk at the Gate: Paul Fishkin’s Rise from Outlier to Insider
Blending Bohemian Spirit with Business Acumen to Revolutionize Artist Management
J. Michael Loughran
Paul Fishkin wasn’t just hustling; he was obsessed. Working 20-hour days, sleeping under his desk, while consistently answering Albert Grossman’s late-night and early morning calls.
Fishkin lived like the artists he championed: full tilt, no filter.
“I didn’t give a shit about protocol,” he admits bluntly. “I was there to make things happen, not kiss anyone’s ass.”
His entry into the upper echelons of the music industry came through the tutelage of legendary artist manager Albert Grossman, whose client roster read like a who's who of 1960s folk and rock music. Grossman, who managed Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, and Peter, Paul & Mary, was known for his fierce protection of his artists' creative independence and his shrewd understanding of the business side of music.
However, Fishkin’s transformation wasn't immediate. Like many young people in the turbulent 1960s, Fishkin found himself caught between the practical expectations of his generation and the magnetic pull of the counterculture movement that was reshaping American society.
More than a mere recording studio or business enterprise, Bearsville became a cultural sanctuary where artistic experimentation flourished away from the commercial pressures of New York City and Los Angeles. Located in the picturesque town of Woodstock, NY—already legendary for the 1969 festival that bore its name—was far more than a recording facility. It was a complete ecosystem designed for innovation — it was a creative sanctuary.
Fishkin’s legacy echoes the sounds of Todd Rundgren, Stevie Nicks, Foghat as well as a plethora of other artists of the era.
Fishkin was the punk at the gate—part enabler, part agitator—quietly reshaping the music industry not by playing it safe, but by doing what no one else dared.
Criminals and Code: How AI is Reshaping the Digital Underworld
Data, Deception and the Fine Line Between Protection and Intrusion
J. Michael Loughran
Artificial Intelligence (AI) has rapidly evolved from a futuristic concept to a deeply embedded part of daily life, enhancing convenience while simultaneously pushing ethical boundaries. Tools like ChatGPT and predictive algorithms have transformed how we interact with technology.
But beneath the surface, AI is also reshaping the dark web—the internet’s hidden layer where criminal activity thrives. Long a haven for black-market dealings and cybercrime, the dark web now benefits from AI’s ability to automate attacks, mask identities, and enhance the reach and sophistication of illicit operations.
The dark web has long been the de-facto platform of online criminal activity, thriving in the absence of oversight. It’s a place where anonymity reigns and regulation is scarce.
AI is now exploiting vulnerabilities with greater precision and speed, creating a dangerous synergy between cutting-edge innovation and criminal enterprise. Illegal marketplaces on the dark web now mirror legitimate e-commerce platforms—but trade in drugs, weapons, child exploitation materials, counterfeit currency, stolen data, and hacking tools.
The lack of regulation and inherent anonymity provide fertile ground for these operations to flourish.
At the core of this intersection between AI, cybercrime, and law enforcement lies a critical societal debate: how do we balance privacy with security in the digital age?
As AI continues to evolve, so too does its potential to be weaponized. The choices we make now—both in policy and technology—will determine how we protect users while preserving civil liberties.
In many ways, the dark web serves as a cautionary tale about the double-edged nature of innovation, and the urgent need to draw clear lines in an increasingly blurred digital world.
Fair Play or Unfair Advantage? Balance Between Inclusion and Fairness A Pivotal Moment for Sports and Transgender Rights
J. Michael Loughran
In November 2024, New York voters passed Proposition One, allowing transgender athletes to compete in school and collegiate sports based on gender identity rather than assigned sex at birth. The law reflects New York’s progressive values and has ignited national debate over inclusion, fairness, and the rights of transgender individuals in athletics.
Supporters view the measure as a step toward equality, while critics argue it may compromise fairness in women’s sports and potentially alter the competitive landscape for years to come.
The conversation goes beyond athletics, raising broader questions about societal values and how we define fairness and belonging. Legally, the statute opens up questions about uniform policies and how best to balance inclusion with competitive integrity.
Proposition One marks the beginning of a deeper national dialogue requiring thoughtful solutions that uphold the rights and dignity of all athletes, while also protecting the spirit of competition.
Several questions remain open for debate. How can we create more equitable systems for transgender athletes, balancing inclusion with competitive fairness? Should there be more standardized policies across states or national governing bodies to provide clarity for schools and sports organizations? What role should science and evolving research play in shaping these decisions?
Ultimately, this passage is just the beginning of a much larger conversation—one that requires nuanced perspectives, ongoing dialogue, and a commitment to finding solutions that respect the rights of all athletes while preserving trust in the games themselves.
The Calm in the Chaos: Inside the World of a Black Rock Ranger Burning Man’s Unpaid, Unarmed, Front Line Khaki-Clad Guardians
J. Michael Loughran
Every summer, tens of thousands descend on Nevada’s Black Rock Desert to build a city out of nothing — and watch it vanish in a week. It’s a hallucinatory carnival of fire dancers, mutant vehicles, techno thunderdomes, and dust storms that hit like hurricanes.
But beneath the chaos, there’s a fragile thread holding it all together: the Black Rock Rangers.
They’re not cops. They’re not hired muscle. They’re volunteers — Burners themselves — patrolling the Playa in khaki shirts and wide-brimmed hats, radios crackling. Their job isn’t to control the madness but to guide it. When a fight erupts, when someone’s melting down on psychedelics, when a child wanders off into the dust, they’re the ones who show up — calm, steady, and unarmed.
Born in the early ’90s when Burning Man was still a ragtag desert party, the Rangers became the glue that let the festival scale to 70,000 people without losing its soul. They train in de-escalation, consent, and psychological first aid, and they live by a mantra: “We’re not cops. We’re not your parents. We’re your neighbors.”
The stories read like parables of survival and sanity: defusing a volume war between rival sound camps, forming a protective circle around a participant tripping too hard, quietly steering an ecstatic fire-runner away from certain disaster. They’re also shock absorbers between Burners and law enforcement, softening the blow when the outside world collides with the desert experiment.
The bigger question lingers: could this model — community-led, presence-driven, no-badges-needed — work outside the dust? In a time when trust in authority is cracking, the Rangers’ radical act of simply standing still might be more than Burning Man myth. It could be a blueprint.
Consequence of the US Exit from Afghanistan The complicated legacy of the U.S. withdrawal and the path forward for Afghan refugees
J. Michael Loughran
In late August 2021, gunfire lit the Kabul night sky as Taliban fighters celebrated what they called “Victory Day.” For the United States, the moment marked the end of a 20-year war. The final American troops had departed Hamid Karzai International Airport, closing a chapter that began with the shock of September 11 and ended with a frantic evacuation. For Afghans left behind, the jubilation of some was overshadowed by fear of persecution and the collapse of fragile freedoms.
The withdrawal—among the largest airlifts in history—was chaotic, violent, and indelibly etched into the global imagination. Images of desperate Afghans clinging to aircraft underscored the desperation. A suicide bombing at the airport killed 195 people, including 13 U.S. service members, shattering hopes of a clean exit. Comparisons to America’s retreat from Saigon were inevitable, and for many Afghans who had allied with the U.S., the departure felt like betrayal.
The Taliban’s swift return to power carried immediate consequences, particularly for women and girls. Banned from parks, silenced for speaking out, and stripped of opportunities, they became symbols of freedoms erased. Meanwhile, half the country now lives in poverty, with more than 20 million facing acute food insecurity—a crisis deepened by drought, earthquakes, and economic collapse.
Roughly 125,000 Afghans were evacuated to the United States under humanitarian parole, a temporary status that left many in limbo. Refugee agencies, underfunded and overwhelmed, turned to local groups, faith communities, and grassroots “Welcome Circles” to meet urgent needs. Thousands of Afghans have begun to rebuild their lives, but challenges remain: asylum backlogs, housing shortages, language barriers, and lingering trauma.
For Afghans and Americans alike, the legacy of August 2021 endures. The war may be over, but its consequences persist—in Kabul’s shuttered schools, in refugee courtrooms across the U.S., and in the uneasy question of whether America will honor the promises it made to those it left behind.
The Algorithm Will See You Now
Promises, pitfalls, and the path forward for AI in transforming medicine and patient care
J. Michael Loughran
Artificial Intelligence (AI) is rapidly transforming modern healthcare, redefining how we diagnose, treat, and manage disease. With machine learning, big data, and natural language processing (NLP), AI is improving patient outcomes through faster diagnoses, personalized treatment plans, and more efficient clinical workflows. From medical imaging to genetic analysis and clinical documentation, AI is powering a new era of precision medicine.
AI is already in use across various areas of care. Machine learning algorithms assist radiologists in detecting conditions like cancer and heart disease from imaging scans with impressive accuracy. NLP technologies are being used to extract key information from electronic health records (EHRs), summarize physician notes, and automate administrative tasks—freeing up time for patient care.
Predictive analytics helps clinicians identify patients at high risk for complications, while in pharmaceutical research, AI accelerates drug discovery by analyzing biological data and simulating drug interactions.
However, not all implementations have been smooth. Some diagnostic tools perform inconsistently outside of controlled environments, and errors can result from incomplete or low-quality data. NLP systems can also misinterpret clinical language, especially in complex or nuanced medical cases. Privacy concerns and the opaque nature of certain AI models further complicate their use in sensitive healthcare settings.
To unlock AI’s full potential, integration must be ethical, transparent, and supportive of—not a replacement for—clinical expertise. When used responsibly, AI and NLP can enhance both the science and the art of medicine, improving outcomes while preserving the trust and empathy at the heart of patient care.