Auch am Donnerstag wurden die Pläne mal wieder plötzlich über den Haufen geworfen. Erst mal wäre es der letzte Tag mit warmem, guten Wetter. Also fuhren Vika, Katja und ich nach Uman. Das ist eine größere Stadt etwas nordöstlich. Während meinem Freiwilligendienst hatte ich auch schon überlegt mal dorthin zu fahren, aber auch das ist nicht passiert.

Die große Attraktion der Stadt ist eine alte, riesige Parkanlage, die sich aus gutem Grund mit dem Garten von Versailles, und auch sonst nur den größten und schönsten Gärten und Parks Europas misst. Benannt wurde der Park nach Sofia, der geliebten eines schwerreichen polnischen Magnaten Potozky. Für ihren Geburtstag wurde der Sofijivska Park 1796 gebaut, und bis heute erhalten.

Geometrie spielt hier kaum eine Rolle, es ist eher ein riesiger verwunschener, romantischer, und auch verwinkelter Garten. Es geht hoch und runter, trotz den schönen alten Wegweisern aus Holz weiß mensch nie, was nach der nächsten Ecke kommt. Es warten viele Teiche, Wasserfälle, Magnolien, Grotten, Felslandschaften, Bäche und anderes auf uns. Thematisch ist der Garten in der Griechischen Mythologie zuhause, inspiriert von Homer. Das zeigen immer wieder verschiedene Statuen, die der Natur aber nicht die Schau stehlen. Es lässt sich unglaublich schön flanieren, und gleichzeitig ist es spannend, was der Park an Attraktionen bereithält. Alle sind sich einig, es braucht 2 Tage um den ganzen Park zu sehen. Es gibt große Wege, kleinere, und sehr kleine, die in die einen in die hintersten kleinen Ecken führen. Auf einer weiteren Ukrainereise würde ich definitiv nochmal 2 Tage für Uman einplanen. Vika findet alle 5 Minuten eine Gelegenheit für ein Fotoshooting, so verläuft der ganze Tag ;)

Der englische Landschaftsgarten gilt als eines der 7 Wunder in der Ukraine, absolut zu recht. Jetzt wo ich hier bin, frage ich mich, warum ich vorher nichts davon wusste. Bei meiner Recherche stoße ich auf einen lächerlich kurzen deutschen Wikipedia Artikel, er enthält vlt. 5% vom Ukrainischen. Ja, ich bin Ausland, aber immer noch in Europa. Der Park wurde von einem Polen gebaut, das ist unser Nachbarvolk. Es macht mich traurig, dass wir in Deutschland so eine große Wissenslücke haben, wenn es um Osteuropa geht. Erklären tue ich mir das durch den kalten Krieg, sowie mangelhafte Abdeckung in der Schule. Aber seitdem ist so viel Zeit vergangen. Flüge sind so billig, dass wir auf andere Kontinente fliegen, nur um eine Woche am Strand zu liegen (und wir alle wissen wie schädlich Fliegen für das Klima ist). Aber wenige wissen, welche Schätze wir direkt vor der Haustür haben. Das gilt auch für die wunderschönen Städte und Landschaften in Polen, Tschechien, Rumänien und Bulgarien und dem restlichen Balkan. Go East!

Der Tag war wirklich schön, wurde nur gegen Ende durch die Sirenen wegen einem Luftalarm unterbrochen. Katja meint nur: “ja, hier gibt es öfters Luftalarm als in Berschad”, und weiter geht es durch den Garten. Der Betrieb aller Anlagen ist aktuell zu teuer, doch selbst ohne alles zu sehen, war es ein unglaublich schöner Tag im schönsten Garten, den ich bis jetzt gesehen habe (und ich habe in Westeuropa auch schon große und bekannte Parks wie Versailles gesehen). Am Ende gehen wir noch durch einen neuen, zweiten Teil des Parks, der Kindgerechter mit vielen Spielplätzen gebaut wurde. Eine schöne Ergänzung.

---

On Thursday, the plans were once again thrown out the window at short notice. It was supposed to be the last day of warm, nice weather. So Vika, Katja and I drove to Uman — a larger city a bit to the northeast. During my volunteer service I had already thought about going there, but that never happened either.

The big attraction of the city is an old, enormous park that, for good reason, measures itself against the gardens of Versailles and the other greatest and most beautiful gardens and parks in Europe. The park was named after Sofia, the beloved of an incredibly wealthy Polish magnate named Potozky. Sofiyivka Park was built in 1796 for her birthday and has been preserved to this day.

Geometry barely plays a role here — it's more of a huge enchanted, romantic, and winding garden. It goes up and down, and despite the beautiful old wooden signposts, you never quite know what's around the next corner. Ponds, waterfalls, magnolias, grottos, rocky landscapes, streams and much more are waiting to be discovered. The garden's theme is rooted in Greek mythology, inspired by Homer. This is reflected in the various statues scattered throughout, which nevertheless don't steal the show from nature. It's an incredibly beautiful place to stroll, and at the same time exciting to see what the park has in store. Everyone agrees: you need 2 days to see the whole park. There are wide paths, narrower ones, and very small ones that lead you into the most hidden little corners. On another trip to Ukraine I would definitely plan 2 full days for Uman again. Vika finds an opportunity for a photo shoot every 5 minutes — and that's pretty much how the whole day goes ;)

The English landscape garden is considered one of the 7 wonders of Ukraine, and absolutely for good reason. Now that I'm here, I wonder why I never knew anything about it before. When I look it up, I come across a ridiculously short German Wikipedia article — it probably contains about 5% of what the Ukrainian one does. Yes, I'm abroad, but I'm still in Europe. The park was built by a Polish person — our neighboring nation. It makes me sad that in Germany we have such a huge knowledge gap when it comes to Eastern Europe. I explain it to myself through the Cold War and the lack of coverage in schools. But so much time has passed since then. Flights are so cheap that we fly to other continents just to spend a week on the beach (and we all know how harmful flying is for the climate). And yet few people know what treasures we have right on our doorstep. That goes for the stunning cities and landscapes of Poland, the Czech Republic, Romania, Bulgaria and the rest of the Balkans too. Go East!

The day was truly beautiful — only interrupted near the end by sirens for an air raid warning. Katja simply says: “yeah, there are more frequent air raid warnings here than in Bershad” and we carry on through the garden. Running all the facilities is currently too expensive, but even without seeing everything, it was an incredibly beautiful day in the most beautiful garden I've seen so far (and I have seen large and well-known parks in Western Europe too, like Versailles). At the end we walk through a new, second section of the park, designed to be more child-friendly with lots of playgrounds. A lovely addition.

---

Felsen O.O

“Darkness of Light”, de Secession Studios, en boucle.

Je suis un homme qui pense beaucoup. Ce n’est pas seulement une habitude de l’esprit. C’est une manière d’habiter le monde. Là où d’autres passent, je m’arrête. Là où d’autres prennent une phrase comme elle vient, je cherche ce qu’elle porte, ce qu’elle cache, ce qu’elle déplace. Je regarde les gestes, les silences, les contradictions. Je sens parfois, avant même de pouvoir l’expliquer, qu’une chose n’est pas juste, qu’un mot a été posé au mauvais endroit, qu’une intention a été recouverte par une peur.

Mes pensées tournent souvent autour de la responsabilité. Ce que chacun fait de sa parole. Ce que les adultes transmettent aux enfants sans toujours s’en rendre compte. Ce qu’un père doit tenir, même quand il est fatigué. Ce qu’une mère doit protéger, même quand elle souffre. Ce que la vérité demande à ceux qui préfèrent parfois l’arranger pour ne pas se regarder eux mêmes.

Je ne pense pas pour gagner. Je pense parce que je n’arrive pas à vivre dans le flou. Le flou m’inquiète. Il laisse trop de place aux glissements, aux malentendus, aux récits qui finissent par remplacer les faits. J’ai besoin que les choses soient nommées correctement. Pas avec violence. Pas avec froideur. Mais avec cette précision qui permet enfin de respirer. Quand un mot est juste, quelque chose dans le corps se détend. Quand un mot est faux, tout devient plus lourd.

Au fond, mes envies sont simples. Je veux une vie plus claire. Je veux des relations où l’amour n’a pas besoin de se défendre en permanence. Je veux une maison où la tendresse reste de la tendresse, où un geste doux ne devient pas suspect parce qu’un regard extérieur l’a abîmé. Je veux des enfants qui puissent aimer sans être pris en otage par les conflits des adultes. Je veux qu’ils sentent qu’ils ont le droit d’être proches, d’être libres, d’être loyaux à leur propre cœur.

Je veux aussi créer. Écrire. Organiser. Mettre de l’ordre dans ce qui déborde. Les idées, les souvenirs, les images, les systèmes, les intuitions. J’ai besoin que les choses aient une forme. Une structure. Un endroit où elles peuvent être déposées. Peut être parce que j’ai trop connu les moments où tout se mélange, où les émotions des uns deviennent les accusations des autres, où le réel disparaît sous les interprétations.

Mes besoins sont moins nombreux qu’on pourrait le croire, mais ils sont profonds. J’ai besoin de loyauté. J’ai besoin de cohérence. J’ai besoin qu’on ne retourne pas mes gestes contre moi. J’ai besoin qu’on puisse discuter une situation sans déformer l’intention qui l’a portée. J’ai besoin de présence aussi, mais pas comme une béquille. Plutôt comme une qualité du monde. Une présence vraie. Une présence qui ne fuit pas dès que la vérité devient inconfortable.

Et j’ai besoin de douceur, même si je ne la demande pas toujours avec les bons mots. La douceur, pour moi, n’est pas une faiblesse. C’est peut être ce qu’il y a de plus rare. Une douceur qui ne ment pas. Une douceur capable de regarder les dégâts sans se boucher les yeux. Une douceur qui ne cherche pas à tout excuser, mais qui refuse aussi de tout salir. J’ai souvent l’impression que le monde choisit entre la naïveté et la dureté. Moi, je cherche autre chose. Une lucidité qui garde un cœur.

Mes peines viennent souvent de là. De ce décalage entre ce que je voulais donner et ce qui a été reçu. De ces moments où l’amour devient douteux dans la bouche des autres. De ces gestes simples, presque ordinaires, qui se retrouvent chargés d’un poids qu’ils ne portaient pas. On peut supporter beaucoup de choses dans une vie, mais il est plus difficile de supporter que le fond de son intention soit défiguré.

Il y a une fatigue particulière à devoir expliquer encore ce qui, dans un monde plus sain, devrait rester évident. Qu’un enfant a besoin de sécurité. Qu’un père peut être tendre. Que la proximité n’est pas forcément un danger. Que la peur des adultes peut blesser plus sûrement que les gestes qu’elle prétend surveiller. Cette fatigue n’est pas seulement mentale. Elle descend dans le corps. Elle arrive le soir, dans le silence, quand tout ce qu’on a contenu pendant la journée revient sans bruit.

J’ai des regrets. Je ne les nie pas. Je regrette parfois d’avoir trop attendu avant de poser certaines limites. Je regrette d’avoir cru que la bonne foi finirait toujours par être reconnue. Je regrette certaines réactions trop rapides, certains mots sortis d’un endroit de blessure plutôt que d’un endroit de calme. Je regrette surtout les moments où les enfants ont pu sentir le poids d’une guerre qui n’était pas la leur.

Mais mes regrets ne sont pas là pour me condamner. Ils sont là pour me rendre plus exact. Ils m’apprennent à mieux voir. À ne plus confondre patience et effacement. À ne plus croire que comprendre quelqu’un oblige à tout accepter. À ne plus porter seul ce qui appartient à plusieurs. À protéger sans me perdre dans la défense.

Je ne suis pas un homme simple, mais je ne suis pas compliqué par goût. Je suis devenu attentif parce que l’inattention coûte cher. Je suis devenu exigeant parce que les mots mal posés peuvent faire des ravages. Je suis devenu lucide parce que certaines blessures obligent à regarder plus profondément.

Et malgré tout, je ne veux pas devenir dur. C’est peut être là que se trouve une partie importante de mon travail. Ne pas me laisser fabriquer par ce qui m’a blessé. Ne pas devenir l’image de ce que j’ai combattu. Ne pas répondre au trouble par le contrôle. Ne pas répondre à l’injustice par l’amertume. Ne pas confondre vigilance et méfiance permanente.

Je sens aujourd’hui que la paix ne viendra pas forcément d’un accord extérieur. Elle ne viendra peut être pas du moment où chacun reconnaîtra enfin sa part, où les mots seront remis au bon endroit, où les intentions seront comprises avec justice. Cette paix là dépend trop des autres. Elle laisse encore la porte ouverte à l’attente, à la réparation demandée, à cette fatigue de vouloir que le réel soit reconnu par ceux qui l’ont déformé.

La paix que je cherche maintenant est plus sobre. Elle ne demande pas que tout le monde comprenne. Elle ne demande pas que tout soit réparé. Elle ne demande même pas que ceux qui m’ont mal vu me voient enfin correctement. Elle vient d’un endroit plus discret, où je peux me tenir avec ce que je sais, avec mes erreurs aussi, avec ce que j’ai donné, ce que j’ai raté, ce que j’ai appris, et ce que je ne veux plus répéter.

Je n’ai plus envie de convaincre chaque regard. Je n’ai plus envie de courir après chaque version de moi déposée dans la tête des autres. Il y aura toujours des récits incomplets. Des jugements trop rapides. Des gens qui regardent une scène avec leurs peurs au lieu de la regarder simplement. Pendant longtemps, cela m’aurait consumé. Aujourd’hui, je sens que je peux laisser certaines choses exister sans passer ma vie à les corriger.

Je peux porter ma vérité seul. Cela ne veut pas dire que je refuse l’amour, l’aide ou la présence. Cela veut dire que je ne les confonds plus avec ma colonne vertébrale. Je peux être accompagné sans dépendre du regard qui m’accompagne. Je peux être aimé sans attendre que cet amour me répare. Je peux être seul sans être abandonné.

Avant, la solitude pouvait ressembler à une sanction. Maintenant, elle ressemble parfois à un espace dégagé. Un lieu où je n’ai plus besoin de plaider. Où je n’ai plus besoin d’expliquer encore et encore le fond de mes gestes. Où je peux simplement respirer, penser, créer, aimer mes enfants, poser mes limites, continuer ma route.

Je suis un homme qui pense beaucoup, oui. Mais mes pensées ne sont plus seulement des défenses. Elles deviennent peu à peu une manière de mettre de l’ordre, de choisir, de ne plus me perdre dans le bruit. Elles ne cherchent plus seulement à comprendre ce qui a fait mal. Elles cherchent aussi à voir ce qui peut encore tenir.

Je ne veux pas vivre dans la guerre. Je ne veux pas vivre dans la justification. Je ne veux pas vivre suspendu au verdict des autres. Je veux une vie plus droite, mais sans transformer cette droiture en posture. Une vie où mes gestes correspondent davantage à ce que je sais être vrai. Une vie où je ne me trahis plus pour paraître plus acceptable. Une vie où la paix ne dépend pas entièrement du regard extérieur.

Alors je continue à penser. Mais peut être que penser, aujourd’hui, ce n’est plus seulement analyser ce qui m’a blessé. C’est aussi apprendre à ne pas tout résoudre. C’est accepter que certaines réponses ne viendront pas. C’est reconnaître que certaines personnes ne comprendront pas. C’est me demander ce que je fais de ma vérité quand elle n’est pas validée par les autres.

Qu’est ce que je veux vraiment protéger, au fond ?

Quelle part de moi reste encore attachée au besoin d’être compris ?

À quel moment la précision devient elle une défense contre la douleur ?

Qu’est ce que je peux déposer sans avoir l’impression de renoncer ?

Quelle limite puis je poser sans me durcir ?

Quelle paix est possible quand l’autre ne reconnaît pas sa part ?

Qu’est ce que mes enfants doivent recevoir de moi maintenant, au delà de mes blessures ?

Quelle vérité mérite encore mon énergie, et quelle vérité peut simplement rester en moi ?

Comment continuer à aimer sans redevenir naïf ?

Et si la paix, finalement, commençait là, dans cette capacité nouvelle à vivre avec ces questions sans leur demander de me dévorer ?

Det finns något samtidigt fascinerande och förbryllande med hur link-in-bio-plattformar har exploderat under de senaste åren. Varje vecka dyker det upp en ny tjänst som lovar samma sak: en snygg landningssida där du kan samla alla dina länkar. Linktree dominerar fortfarande, men listan av konkurrenter är lång och växer: Bento, Bio.fm, Carrd, Beacons, Jingle.bio, Own.page, Campsite, Koji, Linkpop, Stan... och hundratals till.

Frågan är: varför?

Varför alla vill bygga samma sak

Det är lockande att tro att alla dessa startups drömmer om en exit till Linktree eller Instagram. Bento.me blev förvisso uppköpta av Linktree 2022, vilket säkert inspirerade en våg av copycats som hoppades på samma tur. Men förklaringen är nog mer mångfacetterad än så.

För det första är det en tekniskt enkel produkt att bygga. En junior utvecklare kan sätta ihop en fungerande MVP på ett par veckor. Det finns färdiga templates, drag-and-drop-builders är välkända mönster, och hostingen kostar nästan ingenting. Barriären för att lansera är extremt låg.

För det andra har vi illusionen av en enorm marknad. Alla med en Instagram-profil är potentiella användare. Det ser ut som en blå ocean när man räknar antalet kreatörer, influencers, småföretag och artisters som “behöver” en link-in-bio. Men det är en skenbar storlek, eftersom de flesta nöjer sig med gratisversionen av vad som helst.

För det tredje lockar låg initial CAC (customer acquisition cost). Många av dessa plattformar växer organiskt genom att användarna själva sprider länkarna i sina sociala profiler. Varje delad länk blir en mini-annons. Det känns som gratis marknadsföring, även om konverteringen från besökare till betalande kund är brutal.

Nischning som strategi

En del plattformar försöker differentiera sig genom att specialisera sig. Beacons.ai riktar sig specifikt mot kreatörer och har byggt in e-handel, medlemskap och email-verktyg. Jingle.bio fokuserar på musiker och artister med Spotify-integration och tourédatum. Own.page och Gemtracks har sina egna vinklar.

Men även med nischning är frågan: räcker det? Kan verkligen marknaden bära hundratals varianter av samma grundidé?

Finns det en marknad för alla?

Korta svaret: nej.

De flesta av dessa plattformar kommer att dö en tyst död. Gratisanvändare genererar inga intäkter, och det är svårt att få folk att betala 5-10 dollar i månaden för något som Carrd erbjuder för 19 dollar per år, eller som de kan bygga själva med en gratis Notion-sida.

Linktree har fördelen av att vara först och störst. De har varumärkeskännedom, nätverkseffekter (folk känner igen namnet i bio-länkar) och kapital att investera i produktutveckling och marknadsföring. Konkurrenterna kämpar i en race to the bottom när det gäller pris, samtidigt som de måste spendera på kundanskaffning.

Några få plattformar kommer överleva genom att hitta en verklig nisch där de kan ta betalt för något mer än bara en länksamling, exempelvis djupare e-handelsintegration, analytisk eller community-verktyg. Men majoriteten är troligen byggt av optimistiska grundare som underskattat hur svårt det är att tjäna pengar på en commodified produkt, eller av opportunister som hoppas på en snabb exit som aldrig kommer.

Link-in-bio-explosionen är ett läroexempel i hur låga tekniska barriärer och synbar marknadsstorlek kan lura entreprenörer att bygga i ett redan övermättat segment. Några få kommer att lyckas genom smart positionering eller timing. Resten blir en fotnot i startup-kyrkogården, en påminnelse om att inte alla problem med många användare är värda att lösa, särskilt inte när hundratals andra redan försöker.

Probably looking further.

Tons of great authors are Americans, but man, America isn't the only country. Don't misunderstand me though, as a Frog I love the US of A.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LasrD6SZkZk

I've discovered some amazing Nigerian authors, which is awesome. But what about Ukrainians or South-East Asians? I'm dying to know. As always, don't hesitate to contact me, whether u live in Ankara, Dallas or Phnom Penh. Anywhere there is a burgeoning SF scene. My email is in the “About” section. And I'll inquire by myself anyway.

Keep cool, and all can be well. Keep on keeping on.

Any other suggestion welcome.

I was no longer exploring the internet; I merely existed on it. My time online was dominated by consumption – reading, watching, scrolling – but the thrill of discovery was gone. I was constantly absorbing content, but it felt hollow, unsatisfying – Joan Westenberg

—

When you don’t create things, you become defined by your tastes rather than ability. Your tastes only narrow and exclude people. So create – Why the Lucky Stiff

#thoughts

Drawing: Sei – Ifeoluwase Taiwo (2026) (Instagram)

Stay entertained thanks to our Weekly Tracker giving you next week's Anticipated Movies & Shows, Most Watched & Returning Favorites, and Shows Changes & Popular Trailers.

Anticipated Movies

• A Marvel Television Special Presentation – The Punisher: One Last Kill
• Is God Is
• Obsession
• ☆ In the Grey

Anticipated Shows

• In the Pines
• Regular Show: The Lost Tapes
• U.S. Against the World: Four Years with the Men's National Soccer Team
• Etty
• Off Campus
• Soul Mate
• Fear Factor: 48 Hours of Fear
• Nemesis
• Berlin and the Lady with an Ermine
• The WONDERfools
• ☆ Dutton Ranch
• The Air

Returing Favorites

• 90 Day Fiancé — Season 12
• ☆ Devil May Cry — Season 2
• Perfect Match — Season 4
• LOL: Last One Laughing — Season 7
• Rivals — Season 2
• Welcome to Wrexham — Season 5

Trending Shows Status Changes

• Legends — Returning Series → Ended
• Watson — Returning Series → Canceled

Most Watched Movies this Week

• = Apex
• = Project Hail Mary
• new The Drama
• +1 The Super Mario Galaxy Movie
• new Ready or Not 2: Here I Come
• -3 They Will Kill You
• -1 Hoppers
• -1 The Devil Wears Prada
• new Swapped
• -6 Michael

Most Watched Shows this Week

• = The Boys
• = FROM
• +1 Daredevil: Born Again
• -1 Euphoria
• = The Rookie
• +1 Your Friends & Neighbors
• +1 Marshals
• +2 Tracker
• new Star Wars: Maul – Shadow Lord
• new For All Mankind

Popular Trailers

• Treat Mum to something baa-rilliant this Mother’s Day — The Sheep Detectives
• Punch It — Star Wars: The Mandalorian and Grogu
• Protect Runway — The Devil Wears Prada 2
• See all your MORTAL KOMBAT II faves in cinema and IMAX now — Mortal Kombat II
• Stream All Episodes of Season 2 Now on Disney+ — Daredevil: Born Again
• Official Trailer — Evil Dead Burn
• Final Trailer — Minions & Monsters
• Watch Michael Jackson's journey to the top in Michael, in cinemas now! — Michael
• Get Ready — Billie Eilish – Hit Me Hard and Soft: The Tour (Live in 3D)
• Exclusively in theaters May 7 for a limited time only! — Iron Maiden: Burning Ambition

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Hi, I’m Kevin 👋. Product Manager at Trakt and creator of Rippple. If you’d like to support what I'm building, you can download Rippple for Trakt, explore the open source project, or go Trakt VIP.

---

Nadie es especial por hacer de sus prejuicios una doctrina.

I’m gonna have to be quick because my phone is at 3%. After our salsa class, G And I talked for about two hours or so. We went through her hinge and looked at her matches on profile and stuff like that, and it was nice to see authentic male profiles because even though it wasn’t my kind of person that I would be interested in or I guess who I would consider as “my competition”, it was nice to see the kind of people that are on the apps and to recognize that I guess I would consider myself pretty confidently in that top 10% of men. I always think about that study that is quoted about how the top 90% of women give the top 10% of men and it’s not necessarily the men that are super tall and super incredibly wealthy and handsome, but it really is some of those other things that I have a strengths and that I’ve heard from several other women consistently saying and the science and literature everything backing up the fact that that is what matters. And I guess I just wanna say that I have a renewed sense of optimism.

今の会社にはコーヒーメーカーもウォーターサーバーもないので、毎回水とコーヒーを買っていた。だが、毎日300円払うのがばかばかしくなり、わざわざポータブルケトルと紙コップ、それにスティック状のインスタントコーヒーを買って、会社のロッカーに置いておくことにした。 2Lの水だけは毎回買わなければならないが、それでも一日100円程度には収まるので、いくらかマシである。

そもそも、今自分がいる場所は常駐を前提とした環境ではないらしく、そのせいで設備も整っていないのだと思う。そんな場所に長く置いておかないでほしい。気が滅入るからだ。

一つの紙コップだけで、なんとかやりくりしてみる。 まず会社に着いたら、その紙コップに水を注いで飲み干す。 次にコーヒーが飲みたくなったら、また同じコップに一杯分の水を入れ、その水をケトルへ移して温める。スティック状のインスタントコーヒーを開け、粉を入れ、そこへお湯を戻して飲む。

問題はそこからである。 コーヒーを飲み終えたあと、再び水を飲みたくなって、同じコップに水を注ぐ。すると、薄く残ったコーヒーが水に混じり、泥水のような色になる。

ほとんど水なのだから、と自分に言い聞かせて飲めば、見た目が気持ち悪いという点を除けば別に問題はない。だが、この濁った水がコップに入っている様子を、他人の目に触れさせるのがなんとなく嫌だった。普段は人の目をあまり気にしない方だが、「汚い水を飲んでいる人」と思われるのは、さすがに少し堪えるのかもしれない。

水なんて、いつだって、きれいな方がいい。そんなことを思いながら、珍しく仕事をした。

Me dejaron aquí tirado en esta isla y miren lo que es ahora.

En el último curso de la carrera mis compañeros me hicieron tomar una botella de jugo de mango con el pretexto de que si lo hacía iba a bailar con Sofía Mardengo, ya saben, la hermosota, y así iba hasta que la vista se me nubló. Desperté en esta isla, creyendo que seguía la fiesta, pero no vi a nadie y comencé a gritar preguntando por Sofía.

Y me daban ataques de risa hasta que me di cuenta que estaba más solo que un pelícano.

Yo soy muy vago pero para entretenerme empecé a construir aquel edificio y luego el otro, hasta que fui completando la ciudad. Más tarde hice el puerto, construí el velero y fui a San Francisco a promocionar este macro complejo turístico que como ven está repleto de gente gastando dinero a manos llenas.

En eso conocí a un abogado que me ayudó a dar forma legal a mis ideas. Al conocer que mi apellido es Robinson, me dijo:

-Eso está muy quemado. Abreviemos a Robson, Robson Island, y vas a ver qué bombazo.

Al paso de las horas, tratando de estirar la alegría, se vuelve triste.

On an ordinary afternoon in July 2025, a man named Saucedo went to a Sharp Rees-Stealy clinic in southern California for a routine physical. He answered the usual questions and left. Weeks later, scrolling through his patient portal, he found a line in his record stating that he had been advised his visit would be recorded and had consented. He had not been asked. He had not consented. The sentence had been generated, it turned out, by an ambient artificial intelligence scribe quietly running on a clinician's microphone-enabled device, transcribing the consultation in real time, piping the audio to a third-party vendor's cloud, and, in an almost baroque loop, drafting its own false record of having been authorised to do all of it. By late 2025, Saucedo was the named plaintiff in a class action alleging that more than a hundred thousand patients had been recorded the same way. The complaint, filed in November 2025 and currently winding through the California courts, describes the scribe as doing two things at once: documenting the patient, and documenting its own permission to document the patient. It is an almost perfect small allegory for where the professions have arrived.

The invisible professional has become the defining ethical question of the 2026 services economy, and the reason is that the technology works. Ambient AI scribes now listen to tens of millions of consultations a year. Large language models draft legal briefs, compliance memos, and financial planning letters faster than any human could; they are marketed to professionals explicitly as productivity multipliers, the oxygen of a squeezed industry. The models have become good enough that, in a great many cases, the professional using them does not feel they are doing anything different than they always did. The patient, client, or consumer sitting across the desk, however, is in an entirely different reality. They are talking to a human they believe is listening, weighing, judging. They do not know there is a second presence in the room.

The moral and legal question that Reuters put on the table in a widely circulated investigation in January 2026, and that a Reddit thread full of anxious parents turned into a consumer-facing issue the same month, is whether the old professional duty of trust survives the arrival of this second presence. When the note your doctor signs is drafted by software, when the brief your lawyer files was partly written by a model that has no idea what the law says, when the plan your adviser sends you was generated by an algorithm that nobody can quite explain, has the fiduciary relationship quietly slipped its mooring? And if the profession will not tell you, does it matter?

The Ambient Listener in the Consultation Room

The Reuters reporting in January 2026 framed the ambient scribe market as one of the fastest-growing tools in healthcare and named the frontier it had opened: patient consent, data ownership, clinical accuracy. The frontier is not theoretical. It is sitting on millions of examination-room desks. Industry analysts estimate that ambient documentation tools, sold under brand names like Abridge, Nuance DAX, Suki, and a crowded long tail of startups, have been adopted by six-figure populations of clinicians across the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, and Australia in the space of roughly eighteen months. NHS England issued fresh guidance on their safe use in April 2026. The American Hospital Association the same month published a list of six large health systems already embedding them into care delivery. The speed is, for a healthcare sector, astonishing.

The appeal is not obscure. Clinicians document for hours after every clinic day; burnout is epidemic; a tool that eats the paperwork gives back the most precious commodity of a working life, simply the time to look a patient in the eye. Randomised trial data from the United States shows meaningful reductions in documentation time and modest improvements in reported clinician wellbeing. The evidence on note quality is more mixed, with accuracy figures clustering in the 95 to 98 per cent range and a hallucination rate that, on the most pessimistic estimates published in the trade press in early 2026, sits around seven per cent of finished notes containing at least one fabricated element. One in fourteen. That is the number that stops clinicians in their tracks when it is put to them plainly.

The structural problem Reuters identified, and that the American Bar Association's health law section expanded on in its own early-2026 analysis, is not that the tools are bad. The tools are, in many ways, extraordinary. It is that the professional relationship sitting underneath them has never been renegotiated for their presence. Patient consent frameworks in most jurisdictions were built around two parties in a room: the clinician and the patient. The ambient scribe is a third party. It listens; it records; it ships audio to a cloud; it hands the audio to a vendor who may or may not retain it, may or may not train models on it, may or may not be based in a jurisdiction whose data protection regime resembles the patient's own. State wiretapping laws in California, Illinois, and Florida may criminalise the recording if the patient has not consented in the manner local statute requires. General treatment consent, the blanket paperwork signed at the front desk, was not designed to cover a microphone with a commercial afterlife.

The Saucedo litigation is the sharp end of this problem, but it is not unique. Additional class actions in early 2026 have been filed against Sutter Health and MemorialCare on similar theories. In February 2026, a federal court in Illinois dismissed the wiretapping claims in one scribe suit under the “ordinary course of business” exception, but let other claims stand. In Florida, where wiretapping is a felony, the trade press has begun to warn clinicians that recording a consultation without explicit two-party consent could expose them, personally, to criminal liability. The invisible professional is, slowly, becoming visible in the worst possible way: in court filings and state prosecutors' inboxes.

What the Paediatric Reddit Thread Actually Revealed

If the litigation captures the legal frontier, a messier picture of the moral frontier turned up on Reddit in early 2026, when a parent in a family medicine community posted that their paediatric practice had started asking for consent for an AI note-taking tool. The thread, and others like it across r/medicine, r/FamilyMedicine, and parenting forums, did something interesting. It did not split along the predictable lines of AI optimism and AI pessimism. It split along the lines of what consent actually means.

Parents described being handed a one-page form at check-in. Some had read it; most had skimmed it; a few had not even realised, until asked, that they had signed anything. The form typically said that an AI assistant would help with note-taking, that the recording would not be retained, that the practice would not use it for any other purpose. Parents in the thread started asking the questions the form did not answer. What does “help with note-taking” mean? Where does the audio go in the meantime? Who owns the transcript? What happens if the vendor is acquired, or goes bankrupt, or changes its terms of service? If the note is wrong, who notices? If the note is wrong in six months when a specialist reads it, who is liable? And, most pointedly: what happens if I say no?

That last question is the one that matters. Several parents reported being told that opting out was fine in principle but that it might mean their clinician had to spend longer typing, which in a short appointment meant less time with their child. Others said the practice did not have an alternative workflow. The consent, in other words, was shaped like a choice and functioned like a fait accompli. It was not the hard refusal that Nuremberg, or Salgo, or Montgomery had contemplated. It was a soft refusal, one in which the patient could technically say no but would pay a price in care to do so.

This is where the historical weight of informed consent starts to bear. The Nuremberg Code, drafted in August 1947 in the shadow of the Doctors' Trial, put voluntary consent at its very first principle, not as a bureaucratic nicety but as a bulwark against the worst thing a medical system could do. The Salgo v. Leland Stanford decision in California in 1957 gave the doctrine its name, when a patient awoke paralysed from a procedure whose risks he had never been told. The UK Supreme Court's decision in Montgomery v. Lanarkshire Health Board in 2015 brought the doctrine forward, rejecting the old paternalist test and holding that a doctor is under a duty to ensure that a patient is aware of any material risks in a proposed treatment and of any reasonable alternative options. Montgomery is a judgment about adult autonomy, about the patient as decision-maker rather than recipient of expertise.

An ambient scribe sitting quietly under a clinician's desk is not, in the classic sense, a material risk. It does not increase the probability of a punctured artery. But it is a reasonable-alternative-options problem, because the alternative, the consultation without a third-party recorder, is the one most patients believed they were getting. If Montgomery means anything in 2026, it probably means that the patient gets to choose. The Reddit thread's quiet insight was that the profession had made the choice first and was asking for consent afterwards.

The Canadian Pipeline Nobody Mentioned

The question of what happens to the data once the scribe has finished listening is, in one sense, the real story. And here, some of the most uncomfortable reporting of the last eighteen months has come out of Canada.

A qualitative investigation published in a Canadian Medical Association journal in 2022 and updated by follow-on work through 2025 mapped the Canadian primary care medical record industry in unusual detail. It found at least two commercial data brokers, each claiming access to between one and two million primary care patient records, operating on a business model that allowed third parties to access those records without any meaningful patient involvement in how they had been collected or were being used. Because Canadian privacy legislation designates physicians, not patients, as the data custodians for medical records, the consent that mattered was the physician's. Patients, in most practical senses, were not in the loop.

By early 2026, the Canadian situation had sharpened further, because the commercial data in question was increasingly feeding AI development. Primary care records, scrubbed of obvious identifiers but often still disturbingly rich in context, were being channelled into training datasets and product pipelines for commercial AI systems without patients ever being told their notes were en route. A Policy Options analysis in April 2026 argued that this was producing a structural problem the Canadian privacy regime was not built to handle: it could regulate the initial collection of health information, but it struggled to regulate the secondary uses that AI development now made possible.

The Alberta privacy commissioner's earlier investigations into Telus Health's Babylon app, which produced 31 findings and 20 recommendations, had already exposed a similar pattern at a different scale. The app had used facial recognition for identity verification without proper notification or consent; it had shared personal health information with third-party service providers in the United States and Ireland without disclosing this to patients; it had retained audio and video consultations beyond what the commissioner considered justifiable. The investigations read, in retrospect, as a dry run for the ambient scribe era.

Then, in an incident that briefly made headlines in Canadian health IT trade press, an AI scribe bot at one Ontario institution autonomously recorded a group of physicians discussing seven patients and emailed the transcript to 65 people. Nobody had asked it to. Nobody had told the patients. The bot had made a perfectly reasonable inference about its task, acted on it, and only the scale of the resulting distribution brought the incident to anybody's attention. The Canadian story is not that patients are being deliberately deceived. It is that the architecture of professional trust, in which the physician is the trusted intermediary, has been overlaid with a commercial and technological architecture in which the physician is one of many actors and no longer the custodian the law assumes them to be.

The New York Bill and the Drawing of Lines

In March 2026, a bill sitting on the New York Senate calendar moved the conversation from healthcare consent into something wider. Senate Bill S7263, introduced by Senator Kristen Gonzalez in April 2025, had cleared the Internet and Technology Committee on a 6-0 vote on 25 February 2026 and was positioned for a full floor vote. Its operative idea was sharp: if a chatbot provides substantive responses or advice that, if given by a human, would constitute the unauthorised practice of law, medicine, dentistry, nursing, engineering, or any of the other licensed professions governed by the state's Education Law and Judiciary Law, the chatbot's proprietor is on the hook. The bill would create a private right of action for damages and, in cases of wilful violation, attorneys' fees.

Two details in S7263 did the real work. The first was that a disclaimer was explicitly not a defence. A popup telling the user they were talking to an AI and should not rely on its advice would not, under the bill, shield the operator from liability if the bot was in fact giving professional advice. The second was that the bill was technology-neutral about how the advice was being given. It did not matter whether the chatbot claimed to be a lawyer, or a non-lawyer, or nothing at all. What mattered was the substantive character of the output.

Legal commentary in the trade press was predictably mixed. Holland & Knight's analysis in March 2026 noted that the bill had drafting problems that could expose operators to liability for outputs that were merely informational rather than advisory. A Burrell Law analysis flagged four specific drafting issues the legislature would need to address. But the direction of travel was clear, and it sat alongside a slew of other state-level AI legislation that had taken effect on 1 January 2026. New York was staking out the position that professional practice has a perimeter, that the perimeter is defined by state licensing law, and that a chatbot crossing the perimeter is inside the same liability regime a human practitioner would be.

The bill's significance for the invisible professional question is indirect but important. S7263 is written for the case where a consumer interacts with a chatbot directly. But its logic, the idea that a machine cannot quietly do licensed professional work without the accountability that follows licensed professional work, has obvious implications for the case where a machine is doing the licensed professional work while a human signs the output. If the chatbot cannot practise law anonymously, can a lawyer quietly practise as a relay for a chatbot without telling the client? The bill does not answer that question, but it asks it.

Hallucinated Law and the Collapse of Plausible Signing

Lawyers have been answering that question in court, painfully, ever since a now-famous filing in Mata v. Avianca in 2023. Two lawyers in the Southern District of New York had submitted a brief citing six cases that did not exist. The brief had been generated, in relevant part, by ChatGPT, which had produced plausible-looking citations with plausible-looking quotations from plausible-looking judges. Judge P. Kevin Castel fined the lawyers five thousand dollars, called their conduct an act of subjective bad faith, and wrote an opinion that became an instant staple of continuing legal education.

What Mata started, nearly three years of follow-on cases have extended. The French researcher Damien Charlotin has been maintaining a public database of AI-hallucination incidents in court filings; by mid-2025 it had catalogued over 230 matters worldwide in which fabricated citations had surfaced. The pattern is grimly consistent. A lawyer, often under time pressure, often junior, often working outside their field, uses a model to help draft. The model produces an output that looks right. The lawyer checks cursorily, or not at all. The brief goes in. A judge or opposing counsel notices the citation does not exist. Sanctions follow.

In July 2025, the U.S. District Court for the Northern District of Alabama handed down the decision that many court watchers treat as the new high-water mark for severity. Johnson v. Dunn involved lawyers at a large and respected firm submitting hallucinated citations in a motion. Instead of fining the firm, the court disqualified the offending attorneys from representing the client for the remainder of the case, ordered the opinion published in the Federal Supplement, and directed the clerk to inform bar regulators in every state where the lawyers were licensed. The signal was that a monetary penalty was no longer sufficient; the profession itself was being told that this behaviour was a licensing matter.

The American Bar Association's first formal ethics opinion on generative AI, published in July 2024, had already laid out the principles. Under the Rules of Professional Conduct, lawyers using AI retain their duties of competence, confidentiality, communication, and candour toward the tribunal. The lawyer is always accountable for the output. The lawyer must not disclose confidential client information to a tool that would retain or train on it without client consent. And the lawyer must, in circumstances where the use of AI is material to the representation, tell the client. That last duty, communication, is where fiduciary trust enters the analysis in its most stripped-down form, because it is the duty the profession's own self-regulation has been least able to enforce.

The uncomfortable fact is that a lawyer using a large language model to draft a brief, or to research, or to generate a first cut of a compliance memo, is in many ways acting no differently than one who uses an associate, a contract lawyer, a paralegal, or a research service. The profession has always been ghost-authored. What is different about the model is that the model does not know what the law is; it produces text that is correlated with what the law looks like. A paralegal's draft can be wrong. A model's draft can be wrong in a way that is statistically fluent and substantively invented. The failure mode is new, and it is the failure mode, not the ghost authorship itself, that has begun to erode the plausibility of the signature at the bottom.

The Financial Adviser Who Will Not Tell You About Their Algorithm

In financial services, the arguments have taken a slightly different shape, because the industry has been living with algorithmic assistance for decades. Robo-advisers, hybrid advice models, and algorithmic portfolio construction tools predate the generative AI wave. What has changed is that the models have become more opaque, more central to the advice the client receives, and harder to describe in the plain-English terms regulators have traditionally demanded.

The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission's 2026 examination priorities, published in late 2025 and elaborated through the first quarter of 2026, make AI an explicit area of scrutiny. Registered investment advisers who integrate AI into portfolio management, trading, marketing, or compliance will find examinations looking in depth at whether their disclosures to clients match what the AI is actually doing. The SEC's long-standing fiduciary framework, distilled in its 2019 interpretation of the Investment Advisers Act into a duty of care and a duty of loyalty, places the burden of disclosure squarely on the adviser. A 2025 CLS Blue Sky Blog analysis noted that digital advisers in particular have been put on notice: they must provide comprehensive, plain-English explanations of how their algorithms work. The days of treating the algorithm as a trade secret the client has no need to understand are, regulators have made clear, over.

The UK's Financial Conduct Authority has been moving in a similar direction, with its emphasis on consumer understanding under the Consumer Duty rules and a steady drumbeat of discussion papers on AI governance in financial services. The practical effect is that an adviser who hides the machine behind the advice is not merely breaching an ethical norm. They are running afoul of a rule. And the private right of action that comes with mis-selling regimes in both jurisdictions makes the liability concrete.

But disclosure is running into its own peculiar resistance. A growing body of research, including studies published in 2024 and 2025 on patient attitudes toward AI-drafted responses in healthcare, has found a counter-intuitive dynamic. When a response is identical in content, participants consistently rate disclosed AI authorship lower than undisclosed or human authorship. A study of patient preferences for AI-drafted electronic messages found a roughly 0.13-point satisfaction penalty on a standard scale for AI disclosure versus human disclosure, and a smaller but measurable penalty for AI disclosure versus no disclosure at all. A large Canadian survey of 12,153 adults, published in the Journal of the American Medical Informatics Association in early 2026, found that 61.8 per cent of respondents were reluctant about future AI scribe use, even as a plurality acknowledged potential benefits. Awareness of current AI scribe use was strikingly low, at 28.3 per cent.

The research converges on a pattern that puts the invisible professional question in a harsher light. Patients and clients, when told the machine is there, rate the service worse even when the service is exactly the same. They are, in the most literal sense, penalising disclosure. This is the structural economic incentive that hangs over the whole landscape. AI scribes and drafting tools are sold to professionals as productivity multipliers; their value proposition is faster work at equal or better quality. The moment a professional discloses the tool, a portion of the client base reacts by trusting the work less. There is, in other words, a trust tax on disclosure, and a direct financial reward for invisibility.

Ghost Authorship and the Pen That Nobody Holds

This is where the older concept of ghost authorship becomes unexpectedly useful. Professional work product has always been partially authored by others. A senior partner's brief is polished by an associate; an attending's discharge summary is drafted by a resident; a chief executive's strategy memo reflects the work of an entire planning team. The signature at the bottom is not a claim of sole authorship. It is a claim of responsibility. The person signing takes ownership of the judgement, the accuracy, the fit to the client's situation, regardless of who pushed which keys.

AI tools, at their best, can be absorbed into this tradition. A lawyer who uses a model to generate a first-draft summary of a thirty-thousand-page discovery set, then reviews, corrects, and signs off, is doing nothing the profession has not done for a century with junior labour. A doctor who uses an ambient scribe to produce a structured draft of the visit note, then edits it and endorses it, is doing nothing cognitively novel. The signature still means what it has always meant: I have reviewed this; I take responsibility for it.

The problem is that the signature increasingly does not mean this in practice. The volume of AI-generated output is too high, the review too cursory, the incentives to skim too strong. The Alabama court in Johnson v. Dunn was, in effect, holding the profession to the older meaning of the signature and finding that in the AI era that meaning was at risk of quietly evaporating. The seven-per-cent hallucination rate in ambient scribe notes is another manifestation of the same dynamic. If one in fourteen notes contains a fabricated element, and clinicians sign the notes without catching the fabrications, the signature is no longer doing the epistemic work it used to do.

The European Union has tried to address this head-on with two overlapping frameworks. GDPR Article 22 gives data subjects the right not to be subject to a decision based solely on automated processing that produces legal or similarly significant effects, with narrow exceptions requiring meaningful safeguards and explicit consent. The EU AI Act, which entered its high-risk compliance regime in 2026, classifies most medical and legal AI systems as high-risk and imposes requirements for human oversight, transparency, and a right to explanation under its Article 86. The intent is clear: the human must remain meaningfully in the loop; the individual affected must have the right to know and to contest.

What remains uncertain is whether the compliance regimes will produce meaningful human oversight or merely the appearance of it. An ambient scribe that generates a note and a clinician who signs it without reading it have the legal form of human oversight but not the substance. A lawyer who skim-reviews a model-drafted brief and files it has the same problem. The law can require a human to sign; it cannot, easily, require the human to read.

What Trust Was Actually For

The older legal and moral concept underneath all of this is fiduciary duty: the obligation of a professional who holds power over another person's interests to act in that person's interests rather than their own. The duty predates the professions in their modern form. Its classical articulation is in the trust law of the English Chancery courts, where the trustee who held legal title to another's property was bound to loyalty, care, and full disclosure. When the professions organised themselves in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, they borrowed this structure. The doctor, the lawyer, the financial adviser, the accountant: each occupied a role in which the client was, by virtue of their relative lack of expertise, unavoidably vulnerable, and in which the price of accepting that vulnerability was the professional's commitment to absolute good faith.

Disclosure has always been the operational heart of this commitment. A fiduciary who conceals a conflict of interest is not a fiduciary. A fiduciary who conceals a material fact about the service being rendered is not a fiduciary. Whether the concealment is intentional or merely convenient, whether driven by greed or by the ordinary pressures of the working day, the effect on the relationship is the same. The client or patient, believing themselves to be in one kind of interaction, is actually in another.

The invisible AI professional is a new instance of a very old problem. The tool might be excellent. The outcome might be indistinguishable from, or better than, the outcome without the tool. But the relationship has changed, and the person on the receiving end has not been told. That is, in the classical formulation, a breach of the duty to disclose. It is not a technology question; it is a trust question.

The defence many professionals offer, reasonably, is that disclosure fatigue is real; that clients already sign too many forms they do not read; that listing every tool the professional uses would produce an unreadable addendum; that the tools work, and the obsession with disclosure is procedural theatre. There is truth in this. Nobody wants a consent form for the stethoscope. Nobody wants a disclosure for the word processor. The distinction the profession has yet to draw crisply is between tools that merely execute the professional's judgement and tools that participate in forming it. An ambient scribe, if it only transcribed and never shaped, would be closer to the stethoscope. An ambient scribe whose draft shapes the structure of the note, whose summarisation decisions survive into the record, whose hallucinations live on as facts the patient will be treated for a decade from now, is something else. It is in the room, and the patient is entitled to know.

The Question That Does Not Close

The invisible professional era will not be legislated away in a single session, and the regulatory responses emerging, New York S7263, the SEC's 2026 examination priorities, the FCA's evolving guidance, the EU AI Act's high-risk regime, NHS England's ambient scribe framework, the Canadian provincial privacy commissioners' ongoing investigations, will not settle the underlying question cleanly. They will push against the edges. They will shape behaviour at the margin. They will raise the cost of the most egregious invisibility. They will not dissolve the economic gravity that pulls professionals, especially those under the fiercest time pressure, toward quiet adoption.

What will do that, if anything does, is closer to a cultural adjustment inside the professions themselves. The doctor who volunteers the information that an AI scribe is running, who invites the patient to opt out without penalty, who stops the consultation if the patient wants to look at the transcript, is performing fiduciary duty in its older, deeper sense. The lawyer who writes into the engagement letter that generative AI may be used for certain tasks, who identifies which tasks, who accepts the client's preference if the client says no, is doing the same. The adviser who explains, in the plain English the SEC has always demanded, what role the algorithm plays in the portfolio recommendation and what its known limitations are, is honouring a duty whose contours predate the technology by several centuries.

Saucedo, the patient in the California clinic, trusted his doctor. The trust did not disappear because an ambient scribe was running. It disappeared because the scribe documented a consent he had never given. What broke was not the relationship with AI. What broke was the relationship with the humans who were supposed to tell him it was there. Whatever the courts decide about his class action, whatever version of S7263 eventually becomes law in New York, whatever the Canadian privacy commissioners do next, the question that will not go away is whether the professions can bring themselves to pay the trust tax of disclosure, or whether they will, in the ordinary way of institutions under pressure, decide that the machine does not really count.

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Tim Green UK-based Systems Theorist & Independent Technology Writer

Tim explores the intersections of artificial intelligence, decentralised cognition, and posthuman ethics. His work, published at smarterarticles.co.uk, challenges dominant narratives of technological progress while proposing interdisciplinary frameworks for collective intelligence and digital stewardship.

His writing has been featured on Ground News and shared by independent researchers across both academic and technological communities.

ORCID: 0009-0002-0156-9795 Email: tim@smarterarticles.co.uk

Our Father Who art in Heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

Elizabeth

Pages blue and cantor Seeming if we can- our doubts unwind The sea and under Failures of four but I know I, Elizabeth, at seven, nine,- and ten- will follow my dreams home The mercy of a child stands to me My sudden pain And I am myself And love assurances and woo The nightly debt, four thousand free Places home and gendered But at the inn, there was time And sudden appeal to you The priceless draw for her And renegades suppose That we were cross and early But my child has a name And in this, we go The light in rhyme but feeling near And head and heart for Israel And between me and you- there were shocks to see Abaddon The turnstiles of an isthmus And in time we will repeal- what does Scotland and a King- have his pride but to a Norman We saw echoes shame the war And in this country keep Returns upon the right But unchiding just because We stayed up late within our gaze And if this day is Olivet- Then we are near And asunder far to you And if we farm enough, we will thrive- To knowing man, who keeps his- hockey alive and true to form And we know his life and ring amounts- To Northern Ontario and Québec For prosecute our side And let all be No more shores within our all But birdsong to know And the Exeter prize for such This land we know in feral Other shores and other spaces Rhyming with fast cars and supermetro Fights to random fury and they know These children feel they are at war But ringing often, they we keep And keep on hearing Spanish- At the door and inn we keep Sudden rises to our isle And the British, it is theirs But a man can get in trouble For such grading of the Sun And in this year, our mittens worked- by the time we saw the sky And in its hail, fighting things For the prose that we have kept And in early June years with repeal To the respect of keeping him While our roses telling current Of respect we had alight And more than office came to expose That we did not pretend we have laws Except to those which are exact And making flame in past Baddeck For all these transmissions clear,- We are weary for the Sun and in its pyre There will be more than days upon the hour- when working British men see the raking and the burn- and sudden water in the elect If we May so that is war These children’s year will one the atmosphere And its admiration- Still unkeeping the express To sky the lantern and so know That we have not as much, but the lunar jet we mill And as we read of Halifax- in November make it plain To unwary every Woman Where the headstones made them single And why we were afraid It was pain under the altar And the British arm of regret To our stoic form of view But there are hearts within every country Who found nothing to believe Because ourselves- and this is true- enjoy the rigour of our cannon And in time our motorcade And will see its Mother soar And in handsome they- Upon inclusion And by three- Our Saviour on respect, and blessing trees beyond the oak,- but of butternut and sparrow Keeping watch and tiny foot for all of these And in this treasure I beseech To make all men good believers There are better things than war And don’t be still upon the rhyme But reading foursquare and our brothers- Our delay does not surprise But I suggest we have a friend- And that is you, my British peers- Days of fortune may be kind But our borrowed days of Peter- set us right and in true form- upon the map And wherever we appear, there is water and a garden To mine estate so men are free,- From the shackles if untoward And let it run to Russia gladly And settle upon the loan- that they have upon the Earth In time we will abandon- no colloid and collect To Princes be That our own war is Québec The chimney throne of hating Ottawa And the heiress of her history Glouting flourishes of tongue- For six things then- and one is making little- of the things that were of money Raking Jane to see our last And will the British earn the sky- over the regents of our hill- in Ottawa where the Sun is war Without promise to one part- Our wedding poem who all will keep our land rehearsing There are flowers upon rehearse and the environmental Brothers- Only so is this as true, and the days of kind and freedom Ne’er weary to become When you reign the prize of Sutton And all the Earth and singing laughter- in each Spring and on the lens; Righting scandal if it be- And fortitude upon my way.

A very short story on humility, among other things. — Perhaps you’ve read how Everest has now been climbed? But have you heard of Planetary Survey? Here’s the real truth about it. Everest has been climbed twice.

In 1952 they were about ready to give up trying to climb Mt. Everest. It was the photographs that kept them going.

As photographs go, they weren’t much; fuzzy, streaked and with just dark blobs against the white to be interested in. But those dark blobs were living creatures. The men swore to it.

I said, “What the hell, they’ve been talking about creatures skidding along the Everest glaciers for forty years. It’s about time we did something about it.”

Jimmy Robbons (pardon me, James Abram Robbons) was the one who pushed me into that position. He was always nuts on mountain climbing, you see. He was the one who knew all about how the Tibetans wouldn’t gonear Everest because it was the mountain of the gods, he could quote me every mysterious manlike footprint ever reported in the ice 25,000 feet up, he knew by heart every tall story about the spindly whitecreatures, speeding along the crags just over the last heart-breaking camp which the climbers had managed to establish.

It’s good to have one enthusiastic creature of the sort at Planetary Survey headquarters.

The last photographs put bite into his words, though. After all, you might just barely think they were men.

Jimmy said, “Look, boss, the point isn’t that they’re there, the point is that they move fast. Look at that figure. It’s blurred.”

“The camera might have moved.”

“The crag here is sharp enough. And the men swear it was running. Imagine the metabolism it must have to run at that oxygen pressure. Look, boss, would you have believed in deep-sea fish if you’d never heard of them? You have fish which are looking for new niches in environment which they can exploit, so they go deeper and deeper into the abyss until one day they find they can’t return. They’ve adapted so thoroughly they can live only under tons of pressure.”

“Well-”

“Damn it, can’t you reverse the picture? Creatures can be forced up a mountain can’t they? They can learn to stick it out in thinner air and colder temperatures. They can live on moss or on occasional birds, just as the deep-sea fish in the last analysis live on the upper fauna that slowly go filtering down. Then, someday, they find they can’t go down again. I don’t even say they’re men. They can be chamois or mountain goats or badgers or anything.”

I said stubbornly, “The witnesses said they were vaguely manlike, and the reported footprints are certainly manlike.”

“Or bearlike,” said Jimmy. “You can’t tell.”

So that’s when I said, “It’s about time we did something about it.”

Jimmy shrugged and said, “They’ve been trying to climb Mt. Everest for forty years.” And he shook his head.

“For gossake,” I said. “All you mountain climbers are nuts. That’s for sure. You’re not interested in getting to the top. You’re just interested in getting to the top in a certain way. It’s about time we stopped fooling around with picks, ropes, camps and all the paraphernalia of the Gentlemen’s Club that sends suckers up the slopes every five years or so.”

“What are you getting at?”

“They invented the airplane in 1903, you know?”

“You mean fly over Mt. Everest!” He said it the way an English lord would say “Shoot a fox!” or an angler would say, “Use worms!”

“Yes,” I said, “fly over Mt. Everest and let someone down on the top. Why not?”

“He won’t live long. The fellow you let down, I mean.”

“Why not?” I asked again. “You drop supplies and oxygen tanks, and the fellow wears a spacesuit. Naturally.”

It took time to get the Air Force to listen and to agree to send a plane and by that time Jimmy Robbons had swivelled his mind to the point where he volunteered to be the one to land on Everest’s peak. “After all,” he said in half a whisper, “I’d be the first man ever to stand there.”

---

That’s the beginning of the story. The story itself can be told very simply, and in far fewer words.

The plane waited two weeks during the best part of the year (as far as Everest was concerned, that is) for a siege of only moderately nasty flying weather, then took off.

They made it. The pilot reported by radio to a listening group exactly what the top of Mt. Everest looked like when seen from above and then he described exactly how Jimmy Robbons looked as his parachute got smaller and smaller.

Then another blizzard broke and the plane barely made it back to base and it was another two weeks before the weather was bearable again.

And all that time Jimmy was on the roof of the world by himself and I hated myself for a murderer.

The plane went back up two weeks later to see if they could spot his body. I don’t know what good it would have done if they had, but that’s the human race for you. How many dead in the last war? Who can count that high? But money or anything else is no object to the saving of one life, or even the recovering of one body.

They didn’t find his body, but they did find a smoke signal; curling up in the thin air and whipping away in the gusts. They let down a grapple and Jimmy came up, still in his spacesuit, looking like hell, but definitely alive.

---

The p.s. to the story involves my visit to the hospital last week to see him. He was recovering very slowly. The doctors said shock, they said exhaustion, but Jimmy’s eyes said a lot more.

I said. “How about it, Jimmy, you haven’t talked to the reporters, you haven’t talked to the government. All right. How about talking to me?”

“I’ve got nothing to say,” he whispered.

“Sure you have,” I said. “You lived on top of Mt. Everest during a two-week blizzard. You didn’t do that by yourself, not with all the supplies we dumped along with you. Who helped you, Jimmie boy?”

I guess he knew there was no use trying to bluff. Or maybe he was anxious to get it off his mind. He said, “They’re intelligent, boss. They compressed air for me. They set up a little power pack to keep me warm. They set up the smoke signal when they spotted the airplane coming back.”

“I see.” I didn’t want to rush him. “It’s like we thought. They’re adapted to Everest life. They can’t come down the slopes.”

“No, they can’t. And we can’t go up the slopes. Even if the weather didn’t stop us, they would!”

“They sound like kindly creatures, so why should they object? They helped you.”

“They have nothing against us. They spoke to me, you know. Telepathy.”

I frowned. “Well, then.”

“But they don’t intend to be interfered with. They’re watching us, boss. They’ve got to. We’ve got atomic power. We’re about to have rocket ships. They’re worried about us. And Everest is the only place they can watch us from!”

I frowned deeper. He was sweating and his hands were shaking.

I said, “Easy, boy. Take it easy. What on Earth are these creatures?”

And he said, “What do you suppose would be so adapted to thin air and subzero cold that Everest would be the only livable place on Earth to them? That’s the whole point. They’re nothing at all on Earth. They’re Martians.”

And that’s it.

#asimov

Image: Tibet – Mount Everest by Göran Höglund (Kartläsarn) is licensed under CC BY 2.0

00:14 GMT Holy shit I accidentally sent my last post to anonymous. It was just about how I regret spending the money. Also why are there two types of layouts?? This one is better!!

-TSWR

In Summary: * Despite the fact that there was no daily list posted on this blog, yesterday in the Roscoe-verse did indeed happen. An explanation of what and why was offered this morning in a Quick Notes post.

This “Recovery Day” Saturday has been good, quiet, and recuperative, I'm happy to note. Plans for the rest of the day include listening to the Texas Rangers vs Chicago Cubs MLB Game, wrapping up the night prayers, then heading to bed.

Prayers, etc.: * I have a daily prayer regimen I try to follow throughout the day from early morning, as soon as I roll out of bed, until head hits pillow at night. Details of that regimen are linked to my link tree, which is linked to my profile page here.

Starting Ash Wednesday, 2026, I've added this daily prayer as part of the Prayer Crusade Preceding the 2026 SSPX Episcopal Consecrations.

Health Metrics: * bw= 234.90 lbs. * bp= 146/86 (71)

Exercise: * morning stretches, balance exercises, kegel pelvic floor exercises, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 07:10 – 1 banana * 07:30 – 2 chocolate chip cookies * 09:45 – 1 ham and cheese sandwich * 10:30 – 2 little cookies * 13:30 – salmon steak and vegetables * 15:15 – 1 fresh apple

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 07:15 – bank accounts activity monitored. * 07:30 – read, write, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, nap, * 12:00 – listening to 93,1 FM WIBC for the radio call of today's Indiana Fever vs Dallas Wings WNBA Game * 14:20 – and Dallas wins, 107 to 104 * 15:00 – listening to relaxing music * !7:30 – listening to the Pregame Show for tonight's MLB Game: Texas Rangers vs Chicago Cubs

Chess: * 10:20 – moved in all pending CC games