I have just finished reading a complicated, at times allusive and elusive, essay on Foucault - somehow I never thought I'd be writing what I just have, but I have. Understood it? Yes, and not a hesitant, shaky yes either.

Learned something? Certainly. Something I'd never considered explicitly, but probably sensed: that power is only partially to do with the controlled disbursement of knowledge, a little bit here, a little bit there; power is generative, the more you know, the more you can do. Data in today's world is true power; knowing more means you can control more, think of those silent algorithms grinding away pushing us like chess pieces across a board to a game plan that we know very little of.

But what stands out for me more than anything else is the woodcut image that runs alongside the article, which is bound around the metaphor of a plague ridden city. That woodcut is clearly of London in 1665, and could plausibly be of the area where my office is: St Paul's. How amazing. I walk through time, or it's spatial equivalent everyday. My footsteps echo those of millions of others