Readers respond to Anthony Lane's essay about Christopher Marlowe, Lauren Collins's report on Uniqlo, and Dhruv Khullar's article about A.I. and medical diagnosis. I very much enjoyed Anthony Lane's gleeful review of Stephen Greenblatt's new biography of Christopher Marlowe (Books, September 15th). Lane reminds us that Marlowe took the plot of his play "Dido, Queen of Carthage" from Virgil's Aeneid. I'm not convinced, though, that Virgil would "blench" at Marlowe's opening scene, where a lecherous Jupiter entertains Ganymede, a boy, on his knee. Have another look at the opening verses of the Aeneid (especially Book I, line 28).

Instead of inviting players to explore faraway fantasy lands or fight in imagined battlefields, the world of The Sims hews closer to reality. Through avatars called "Sims," players build homes, have careers, form relationships and try on gender identities -- all while meeting their basic needs, like sleep and hunger. Over 24 years, the game has evolved to include four main editions and dozens of expansion packs. Its latest edition has 88 million users, according to developer Maxis. There are even plans for a movie based on the cozy-quirky game.

The community recently grew from 200 to almost 4000 members in a span of a few days and I wanted to take some time to write a more detailed piece on what we are and truly stand for. I see so many of these and lament. NFTs can be so much more, and that's one of the reasons why we started Alien Genesys. Alien Genesys is a celebration of the recent advancements in AI and a commitment towards the future. Every single piece in our collection was created in conversation with our AI, Virgil.

Get our latest, delivered straight to your inbox by subscribing to our newsletter. Subscribe to our newsletter and get our latest, sent right to your inbox. In July 1845, British curiosity-seekers headed to London's Egyptian Hall to try out the novelty of the summer. For the price of one shilling, they could stand in front of a wooden bureau, pull a lever, and look behind a panel where six drums, bristling with metal spokes, revolved. At the end of its "grinding," what it produced was not a numeric computation or a row of fruit symbols, but something quite different: a polished line of Latin poetry.