A standard deck of playing has 52 cards. That means there are 52! possible combinations. That exclamation is one denoting a factorial and not one of general excitement, but I have been trying not to assume my readership and sometimes it’s good to remind ourselves of things we take for granted.

52! is equal to 52×51×50×…x3×2×1, which according to WolframAlpha is 80658175170943878571660636856403766975289505440883277824000000000000, and unfathomably large number even by large number sake. In all likelihood, every time you shuffle a deck, there is a near certainty that that is the first time in the known universe that a deck of cards has been in that particular order (and that number gets even bigger if you play with jokers). It makes you appreciate the finite and the infinite. It makes every game its own universe. The simple act of shuffling as means of casting a lot of fate.

I can not think of a time where I wasn’t appreciative of a deck of cards being within arms reach. Games of Go Fish and War in elementary and middle school. Brutal contests of Egyptian Rat Screw in high school. Spades in undergrad (I played so much spades in undergrad. Long time friend of the newsletter Brooke was my partner in many a game freshman year). Pile Up Poker now in my mid-thirties.

I used to have this habit of buying a deck if I could not actively remember if I had one on hand. This is how in high school I ended up with a St. Louis tourist deck, which ended up being an omen that I would end up in this city. I played cards back stage with the underclassmen in stage productions of Little Shop of Horrors and Annie Get Your Gun! when I was part of the ensemble and eldest of the motley crew. My only leading role was my first musical, but that’s neither here nor there, at least today.

There are an extraordinary amount of games you can play with a single deck of cards. And those games also have regional variants. The rules change ever slightly. What’s a valid bid or bet? What does the term Boston/nil/blind mean to you? Which cards are wild? Which card is high? You have to establish the rules ahead of time. Or at the very least establish how you establish the rules.

One of the most fascinating games is Mao. Mao is a game where you try to get rid of your cards while following rules, although you may or may not know the rules. You are only told when you are violating the rules. Depending on the variation, you may end up making your own rules. Conditions that must be met to allow an action. There is a fascination. Simple rules lead to complex situations (See Magic: The Gathering for complex rules leading to endlessly complex situations).

I have been obsessed with the concept of emergence for a while, which is to say, I have been obsessed with the patterns of behavior that occur within a system of systems. Each operating part operating independently to produce something much more complicated as a byproduct.

Everything in service of the next. Everything exists in context. Potentially one of my future tattoos if I ever get the ego to tattoo my own poetics on my body like that one Front Bottoms song. Arc words for this newsletter, which is as good as segue to ask you to subscribe if you’re reading this not in your emails.

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Anyways. The working title of this post was “To Be Lawful. To Be Good. To Be Lawful Good.”

I have been thinking a lot of my rules. I have been thinking about the guidelines and regulations I have set in service of self preservation and convenience. I have been thinking about how I am not above breaking the rule if the rule no long makes sense. I have been thinking about the fact had I kept my arbitrary or not so arbitrary rule not to try dating in the winter, I wouldn’t have met someone (It’s still new and nebulous, but you can imagine why it’s on my mind).

2025 was a year of trying things. 2026 is a year of connection. I don’t know exactly what means yet, but I feel it in my bones.

The standard deck of playing cards has roots in tarot. The major arcana phased out, the Fool persisted as the joker. Wands, swords, cups, and coins become clubs, spades, hearts, and diamonds. The number of possible configurations of a Tarot deck is 78!, which I’m not gonna put another needlessly large number just to prove the point, but I will say that perhaps fate is supposed to be impossibly large, but still comprehendable. Perhaps sometimes, you do end up drawing the Page of Cups repeatedly as a reminder to be curious. Perhaps, the card is insistent in its reminder to be open to the world. And perhaps, even in a complicated world of staggering possibility, there is a path.

I don’t know if I believe in fate, at least conventionally. I do know that I have rules that I follow and that knowing why the rules exist give insight on when and why to break them. I know I have an extensive collection of decks of cards, some for playing, some for fortune. And they are days when knowing is enough and there are days when knowing feels like nothing at all, and I suppose I am just thankful that today it is enough.