Ethics in a House at War

Perhaps I should speak of ethics today. I am forever circling that wretched question of ethics. The moment people enter the frame, it grows murkier still. How is it possible for ethics and people to inhabit the same room without poisoning one another? There is a saying in Portuguese, something about ethics and integrity: if someone is no longer your friend, you must still respect their secrets. But by what measure is that meant to hold? There are hundreds, perhaps thousands, of reasons why fr

• 1 min read

AI Is Not Coming. It’s Already Sitting at Your Desk

Not liking artificial intelligence in today’s world is starting to feel a bit like being the grumpy old man yelling at clouds about “the good old days.” It is like swimming against a tide that has absolutely no intention of turning back. Like guarding some imaginary national border and shouting, “No foreigners allowed!” at a technology that already moved into your house, connected to your Wi-Fi, and started helping your cousin build an app. In other words: it is not just pointless. It is proba

• 2 min read

The Beast in me

The beast in me Is caged by frail and fragile bars Restless by day And by night rants and rages at the stars God help the beast in me

• 1 min read #lyrics

Sade

The Truth Do I need the God my wisdom casts aside to explain to me the laws of nature? Within her, everything is motion; her creative womb acts at every instant without the help of any prime mover. What do I gain by doubling the mystery? Does this God truly explain the universe? If he creates, then he too must have been created, and I remain as uncertain as before. Flee, flee far from my heart, infernal imposture; vanish, and yield to the laws of nature.

• 1 min read #poems

Fragments of Prague, or 3:32 p.m. in Munich

I had been in Munich for almost ten days. I had gone there to fulfill the mission of backpacking through Europe. Clearly, my inspiration came from the kind of adventure shown in the 2004 film EuroTrip. A harsh winter was beginning on the old continent. The landscape had already shifted into shades of white and gray, which contrasted with the brutalist vision of Germany — yes, that vision one could see from the heights of a park in Munich, still covered with the Christmas decorations of 2008.

• 3 min read #travels

To My Mother

Like the flowers of a sylvan tree Shed their petals on the furrow that gave life To its fruitless branches, Oh my sweet mother, onto your breast Allow that from this pale Corolla of my fantasies I too shed the cold, scentless, Flowers of my existence, wilted flowers Whose dew is only weeping!

• 1 min read #poems

Intimate Verses

You see? No one came to witness the dreadful burial of your last illusion. Only Ingratitude — that panther — was your inseparable companion. Get used to the mud that waits for you! Man, here on this miserable earth, living among beasts, inevitably feels the need to become a beast as well. Take a match. Light your cigarette. A kiss, my friend, is just the eve of spit; the hand that strokes you is the same one that stones you. If anyone still feels pity for your wound,

• 1 min read #poems

Monologue of a Shadow

I am a Shadow! I come from other eras, from the cosmopolitan world of the monerans. A polyp of hidden recesses, a larva of telluric chaos, I come from the darkness of the cosmic secret, from the substance of all substances! The symbiosis of things keeps me in balance. Within my unknown, ample monad vibrates the soul of all rotary motion. And from me, all at once, arise the health of subterranean forces and the sickness of illusory beings! Hovering above the roofs of the world,

• 1 min read

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with

• 1 min read

The Beauty of Living

01. John Keats Work: Endymion: A Poetic Romance, Book I Passage: “A thing of beauty is a joy for ever.” Why it belongs here: Keats gives beauty the weight of permanence. Not possession, not comfort, not triumph: beauty as a lasting pulse against decay. 02. Henry David Thoreau Work: Walden, “Conclusion” Passage: “Morning is when I am awake and there is a dawn in me.” Why it belongs here: This is not merely about the start of a day. It is about inner awakening: the mome

• 2 min read