How Long Does The Laser Fund Novel Take To Read?

I've been down enough rabbit holes on robotics funding to have a messy notebook full of logos and sticky notes, so here’s the big picture from my perspective. Big tech companies are some of the largest backers of research where robots train robots (or robots learn from each other). Think Google/DeepMind and Waymo for machine learning and self-driving tech, NVIDIA for GPUs and research grants around learning and simulation, Microsoft Research and Amazon (Amazon Robotics and AWS grants) for industrial and warehouse robotics, and OpenAI which has dipped into robot learning experiments. Hardware-and-robot companies like Boston Dynamics (now part of Hyundai), ABB, Fanuc, and KUKA invest heavily too, often funding internal research and academic collaborations. On the academic and public side, government agencies are huge: DARPA in the U.S. has long funded robotics challenges and sim-to-real projects, and bodies like the NSF, EU Horizon programs, UKRI, and various national science foundations support university labs. Automotive and mobility firms—Toyota Research Institute, Honda Research Institute, Intel/Mobileye, Bosch, Siemens Mobility—also pour money into robot learning because of autonomous driving and factory automation needs. Then there are the VCs and corporate funds: SoftBank Vision Fund has historically backed robotics startups, and firms like Sequoia, Andreessen Horowitz, and Bessemer often show up in later-stage rounds. If you want to track specifics, look for industry-sponsored workshops at ICRA or RSS, corporate grant pages (NVIDIA’s grant program, Amazon Research Awards, Microsoft Azure for Research), and DARPA challenge announcements. Personally, catching a demo day at a university lab or a robotics conference gives you the best feel for who’s actually writing the checks versus who’s just slapping a logo on a paper.

I get a little giddy talking about paper science, so here's the long take: Onyx specialty papers can be compatible with laser printers, but it entirely depends on the specific Onyx product. Laser printers fuse toner to the substrate by melting powder onto the surface, so two big things matter — the paper weight and the surface/coating. Heavier stock (higher GSM) and textured or very glossy coatings can cause feeding problems, poor toner adhesion, or even smudging if the coating isn’t designed for toner. In practice I always check three things before loading a new Onyx sheet: the product spec sheet for a 'laser-compatible' note, the paper weight (most desktop lasers like up to 220–300 gsm through manual feed; larger office machines handle more), and whether it’s a synthetic or plastic-type substrate. If the paper is polyester or polypropylene, verify recommended fuser temperature, because plastics can warp, melt, or gunk up the fuser. When in doubt, run a single-sheet test through the manual feed at reduced coverage, let it cool flat, and check feed/jam behavior and adhesion. Also beware of stack offsetting — freshly printed glossy sheets can stick together. I’ve had great luck with matte and silk Onyx stocks on modern laser printers, but once I tried a high-gloss, untested specialty sheet and ended up calling support for a fuser cleaning. So read the datasheet, test a few, and if you’re doing a big run contact both the paper maker and your printer’s support to avoid a costly hiccup — it saved me from a ruined batch of invitations once.

Wide-eyed fans like me always ask who’s pulling the strings behind the shows we binge, and the short version is: it’s rarely a single person. In most cases a production committee — a consortium of the rights holder, the animation studio, the publisher, music labels, toy or merch companies, and the distributor — collectively oversees the money that backs anime adaptations. Each member brings money, expertise, and a piece of the rights pie, and the committee usually designates a lead producer or an executive producer to manage day-to-day decisions and cash flows. For government-backed or specialty funds, like the well-known 'Cool Japan Fund', oversight can sit with a government ministry and professional fund managers who report to a board. When private investment vehicles are involved, licensed asset managers are regulated by Japan’s Financial Services Agency, so there’s an extra layer of legal oversight. I love that this blended setup lets risky creative projects get made while spreading financial risk — it’s messy, corporate, and oddly beautiful for fans who care about how the sausage is made.

I get a real kick out of watching how a fund can turn a scrappy idea into a finished film — it's like watching a character level up. In practice, funds support indie productions at several stages: development grants to help a writer or director flesh out a script, production financing to cover cast, crew, locations and gear, and post-production assistance for editing, sound design, color grading and accessible deliverables. They often offer in-kind support too, such as discounted equipment, post houses, or office space, which is huge when your budget is razor-thin. Beyond cash and gear, the best funds pair money with mentorship. They connect filmmakers with producers, line producers, legal advisors, and sales agents who help structure budgets, clear music rights, and navigate insurance. Many funds also subsidize festival strategy — submission fees, travel stipends, and promotional materials — so films actually reach audiences. Some even provide seed marketing budgets for social campaigns or community screenings, which can be crucial for building word-of-mouth before a festival premiere. From what I’ve seen, funds also de-risk risky projects: they sometimes offer matching funds that unlock private investor co-financing, or gap financing that bridges between initial production and distribution deals. There are also targeted programs aimed at underrepresented voices, experimental formats, or cross-border co-productions. All of this means creative control stays with the filmmakers more often, and projects that might otherwise die in development get a real shot at life. I love it when a tiny, brave project finds resources and an audience — it feels like cheering on an indie hero I already root for.

Lately I've been tracing the threads of Peter Thiel's investing world and the names that actually put money into AI teams keep recurring. The biggest and most visible is Founders Fund — that's the high-profile venture firm Thiel helped start. Founders Fund backs a lot of deep tech and infrastructure plays, and you'll see them at the table for enterprise ML, robotics, and other AI-heavy companies. Alongside that is Mithril Capital, which Thiel co-founded; Mithril tends to focus on growth-stage bets and will back later rounds of AI startups that have traction and revenue. Beyond those two, there are a few other vehicles that people often overlook. Valar Ventures (part of the broader Thiel network) focuses more on global founders and can participate in AI companies that are scaling internationally. The Thiel Fellowship is a different kind of bet — it gives young founders cash and time to build (sometimes AI projects) instead of attending college. The Thiel Foundation runs Breakout Labs, which funds early-stage science and technology projects — that can include AI research or AI-enabled biotech and materials science. Finally, Thiel Capital operates as a family office that occasionally does direct investments and co-invests alongside other firms. If I had to summarize for friends who want to pitch or watch deals: Founders Fund and Mithril are the headline actors for AI checks, Valar is the global reach, Breakout Labs covers deep-science edges, and the Fellowship/Thiel Capital are useful for unconventional, founder-first plays. I find the whole ecosystem fascinating because it blends grant-like bets with cold-blooded venture discipline, which keeps the signal-to-noise ratio interesting.

You know how some tech origin stories get mythologized until facts blur into legend? The clearest, happiest truth is actually pretty simple: the main company Peter Thiel and Elon Musk funded and built together was 'PayPal' — though the origin tale has a few moving parts. Elon launched 'X.com' in 1999 as an online bank and payments company. Around the same time Peter was a co-founder of 'Confinity', which had a payments product called PayPal. The two companies merged in 2000, and the combined team kept the PayPal brand. Both Elon and Peter were among the early backers and leaders of the merged company — Elon as a founder of X.com and Peter as a driving force behind Confinity and an early CEO/board member figure. That whole crew later got nicknamed the 'PayPal Mafia' because so many of them went on to start big ventures. So when people say Musk and Thiel funded something together, PayPal is the concrete, documented answer: they pooled resources, talent, and leadership into what became a massive payments platform. Beyond 'PayPal', people often assume they were constant co-investors or co-founders of other projects, but that’s where the story gets thin. After PayPal, their paths diverged — Musk poured his energy into 'SpaceX', 'Tesla', and later projects like 'Neuralink' and 'The Boring Company', while Thiel focused on investments like 'Palantir' and early bets on social platforms. There were occasional overlaps in interests — both have been vocal and active around AI, libertarian-leaning causes, and a lot of tech philanthropy — but there aren’t many other clear examples of them writing checks together for the same startup the way they did with PayPal. Over the years rumors swirl (OpenAI, various AI funds, or political donations), but the reliable, verifiable collaboration they had was the PayPal/X.com/Confinity story. So, if you want to boil it down for a thread or a quick explanation: the joint, foundational company was 'PayPal', born from the X.com and Confinity merge. Everything else people attribute to a Musk–Thiel tag team mostly springs from later crossovers, shared ideologies, or loose overlaps in funding scenes rather than formal co-founding or co-funding ties. I still get a kick out of how one merged startup spun off so many different giants — feels like a real-life origin story for half the tech world.

I’ve been down the rabbit hole of trying to find Jim Simons's Medallion fund testimony too! From what I’ve gathered, it’s notoriously hard to access for free because the fund’s operations are super secretive—like, NSA-level private. I scoured academic databases, SEC filings, and even niche finance forums, but most of the juicy details are locked behind paywalls or buried in expensive books like 'The Man Who Solved the Market.' Your best bet might be snippets from interviews or documentaries, but full testimony? Probably not unless you’re willing to cough up cash or have insider access. That said, if you’re into hedge fund lore, you’ll find tons of fascinating parallels in other funds’ public disclosures. The Medallion mystique reminds me of how 'Soros’s Quantum Fund' or 'Citadel’s letters' get dissected—people obsess over them like they’re sacred texts. Maybe one day a leak will happen, but until then, we’re stuck piecing together the legend from breadcrumbs.

I stumbled upon Jim Simons's Medallion hedge fund testimony while deep-diving into finance docs late one night, and wow, it’s like peeling back the curtain on a secret world. Simons isn’t just some Wall Street suit—he’s a mathematician who cracked the market like a cipher, and hearing him talk about Medallion’s algorithm-driven strategy feels like listening to a heist mastermind explain their perfect crime. The way he describes blending quantitative models with human intuition is downright addictive, especially when he drops tidbits about early failures ('We lost money for three years straight—then boom, the system clicked'). It’s not just dry numbers; there’s this undercurrent of intellectual rebellion, like he’s quietly laughing at traditional investors who still rely on gut feelings. What hooked me, though, was his humility. For someone running the most profitable hedge fund ever, Simons shrugs off genius labels and instead credits his team’s obsessive tweaking of models. When he admits, 'We still don’t fully understand why some trades work,' it makes the whole thing feel thrillingly unsolved—like quantum physics meets a gambling addiction. If you’re into puzzles, markets, or just love stories about underdogs rewriting the rules, this testimony is a backstage pass to the geekiest revolution in finance history.