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!

Kim (part 9)

Affairs to unfold across this May portend The fair enough to vote away and new By sweetly by Days to night of cue All verse to allow the Son of Man And in this day to many The frightful and renew Of olive bet Officially denote The days to cross the chore Victory Afghan and light to weary And surely new The trials of vlad and who you are For loss and gain unflighted power The sympathy oppose at sighted free For Capulets and know A cricket to remain, implored remember But as a man unfree And History rewrite The stake and sorry Nights abliss and new And worry glad Across this awful horror of the news Making plain receipt The right of many jumped Deceased and crossed of gold- to amend Insuppose of that name and making wane Night supports amend And due for care Unbosses to relay- That May beneath the Earth in flight of home Apostles wear And shining in esteem- the frame of Summer Crossing there- Sights to meanly be what cross by there And husband to rewrite Kim is on recede by merchant pet For praying fast Dutchmen by the force and China’s call Why the toads unfold the crossing point Devilish and hell Escaping prime Forces by the fender- Earthly stall Why summon seconds to be near Worthing fold and by Lear Emanescent laughs While dusted men remain The time is new And what across but shoes opposed to season be Nightly new- Whispers to the void and as we go Praying West This affordant shore and afternoon Kim is gone Waking Peter by the store- and ready ground Weddings and all night The Angels’ day alone Silver dollar to his might Esteem to China sudden care And Earthly know Seven to the mire- Gladded hand and all anew We the poor of broken point Astray to early go un us to grave What option there annoy Notes to Beograd and nights to there Fortuned rain- and wearied star Distance to unvoy in trading by All of us did suffer just to be The mercy guiding flame as older then Why to such we be Innerving man and day Crosses of inflection and to recuse Mystery afloat in one of hour Heroes those Aping at our wheelhouse in as far In quantum gold at relay field Curtis for the night as we to go The rays of bin History rewrites to cure the new The new of peace and at this man relay A hundred beds to gnaw Our guiding bet Castles ever be by this our voice And common death We will remember- and as we were Trilliums of gold across accounts Victory supposing to this height Welcome by the nights and early back Off to fortunes by our light Focal to our know with this we write Finding new our name History atold and taking gear Fogs and fists proclaim By knighting her Kingdom lungs upon our sail Time as bet beside this know Airstrip to the right and waking then What launches to our tap Within our own destruct- Raking to our day and visit come Nights be with us and early back To upon us code The fated roar Substance of our year in tested rain Our gold as near Onus by relay and Camden right Early ply to view This our fortress as we know The horror surely was and cast a screw The missions ended here Phases to remain and as our star Witness to our view Capital and code in us decide The waking four Seoul was timely then Friends to write the distance of our worth And as we less Pockets to align as to our breath What we had here- was surely to oppose forever then No game to know All to second be our chance History waved at us Pain but to untold that we were sparse Made anew Our History land to fight our hand- Prophecy unknows but why and then- Our surest bet as rods asleep Making death our problem And mystery by wear God within us hail and nine of year Simplex to rewrite Wrath was Kim to this afford And History to age Trappings to be there as decent men Uncursed our lot and taking own- Appeases new But on to this new fortune as we Seoul As we speak and should Mercy seeking Rome and to our set In making time and giving way The early joy- of setting Earth across to see No making known- but of our love, Korea As time is might Joy is further running Distance what was here and never again Never shall we leap upon our age But as we prosper gain As inklings to our joy and Summer hold Our frost December Math at this duress Making time affords This forever good and riding new Seoul and new afford The timely new Timely year And for delivery- in History bet upon this road- This ninth at core- and made Korea new.

Wow, two posts today and it isn’t even 5 PM. A new friend asked me if I was interested in going to a rave with them in a group, and I was super excited and said yes! I asked them if they had already bought the tickets, and they said they were going to once payday hits. The tickets are about $150, and it was a little bit surprising to me and put things back into perspective about how things can be. For me right now, if I want to buy something like that, I don’t have to wait for payday, I don’t really even know when my payday is because I have plenty of a buffer. But at the same time, I realized how I was actually really stressed about money recently, because with property tax on my house, it is essentially an extra 22,000 a year. I know that most of my RSU’s are going towards that, and I also have ESPP. And I know that I also have things like the bonus I got recently, or just general savings, and I am also still maxing out by HSA and contributing to my 401(k). But with these things and also making more money than I could’ve imagined, I realized I am so incredibly stressed about money because realizing that I am essentially paying $6.5 thousand a month for the house that feels like I am suffocating, even though I still have so much money left over all things considered that I am able to live a very lavish life. I don’t have to skim on eating or or even even really have to focus on cutting costs there for me to at least continue the way that I am. I am also able to do things like pay $220 a month for Powerlifting Coaching as a hobby in addition to all of the other other random stuff I spend money on. I don’t have to worry about trips or things like that, and yet with all of this, I am still stressed financially. And this Stress originally came from the thought about how to pay for the property tax bill. I would have to touch the $20,000 of cash I have put aside to pay out the car loan, since it is slightly more favorable for me to do that rather than paying it off. And just a thought of having to touch that money temporarily makes me feel stressed and like I am moving backwards. And isn’t that such a strange thing? Compared to a friend who is living paycheck to paycheck, I am able to save large amount of money while living extremely well, and still am completely fine in a spot that people would kill to be in. And the funny thing is I’m still stressed about this and it was weighing a lot on me mentally. This makes me think about both the saying that life has its way of making sure that everyone drinks their fair share of misery from its cup. And also just how chemically we have baselines and essentially, we will always build a tolerance to whatever situation. I remember, I noticed this distinctly during my masters at one point because I realized how when my life is feeling like it is falling apart or horrible, I am struggling. But at the same time when life is arguably, smooth sailing, and no real issues, I still struggle, the problem just shifts up the hierarchy of needs towards something more abstract or overarching. And I can both view this in the lens that when I have a chance to work on those bigger issues, those are the things that end up, giving me future peace and fixing some systematic issues rather than whatever the immediate alarm bill is. But also, I think you can make the argument about perpetually falling into a loop of fixing and that never ending. And it almost feels like there is a carrot on a stick tied in front of me that I will perpetually chase. And I think recognizing that is a good start. I guess this is the whole thing about the hedonic treadmill in a different way. I also think about this looking forward, where I am currently making more money than I could’ve wished for, and yet I still feel like if I can hit the next milestone, then I will be better off, and while that is true, I think it is important to recognize when I get to that situation I am also going to be looking forward again. I think there’s a little bit of a distinction though however because I remember yesterday, I was thinking about how one of the things that I would like to be able to comfortably afford is a Cleaner monthly. With my previous apartment I was able to do that and I think it drastically improved my quality of life. And I think especially with a house, that would be really nice to have, especially because I am living in this big house by myself. I think something like that does make life easier and improves it, and at the same time there are things like getting a new car or a fun car to drive, or even if I’m being really hedonistic, like an expensive fancy sports car, and it’s ironic to say that because I think you could argue that I already have that. and I think this is one of the situations where if you get that, you will enjoy it for a bit and eventually reset that baseline and you end up with what I called the caviar effect, where once you try something really nice you don’t really enjoy it like you do the first time but everything below it gets less fun. I wonder if there is some way to flesh out that framework more rootedly to understand if there’s an end to this treadmill. I think about my dad, in the sense where he did not come from poverty, but definitely came to the US without nearly as much of the privilege or foothold that I have. And I think about him now, where he is in a position where he is making an incredible amount of money, yet he still lives so modestly. I think recently he has enjoyed himself in small ways, like going on some more trips, or getting the model S plaid, but compared to the amount of money that he has made and has saved or invested, it is pennies. He talks about how if you can pay off everything and not have any debts to anyone, then you have essentially everything you need. If you own your house, own your car, rely on services little for example, like having solar power, or not super inflating your life with different dependencies, you end up with a sense of peace. And he doesn’t go crazy buying things, he enjoys his hobbies, and he is not necessarily afraid to spend money, but he simply just seems to have less want. I think if you can get to the point where you do not need to worry about money, maybe that is the ideal way to live. And while this is easy to say in theory I wonder if this is something that I can achieve the way that I am right now. Maybe it needs a fundamental shift. I guess if I think about the kinds of things that I want to spend money on, it’s kind of hard for me to actually articulate why. Let me take for example the recent things I have bought such as a LED lamp for my bedroom so that I can read in softer, warm, lighting, or the light strips I got for arguably Christmas, but also photo shoots. Or the portable flashlight for photos. I buy these things because it enable something that I want to do, but I also unfortunately am aware of the fact that I want to do a lot more things than I actually end up doing. But it feels like money is a way to enable some of these things. I want to go to a concert to have an experience because I find that I really enjoyed them. I want to go on a trip with friends, or I want to spend money on a rush to be able to clean my shower properly. And I feel like a lot of these things are arguably unnecessary, I do think that there is still certain things where I feel like within reason they are excellent uses of my money. I think concerts are my example for that, I think they do a great job of resetting me mentally and helping me enjoy life and I cherish those memories. I guess experiences are something I enjoy, or being able to build memories and I don’t think it’s necessarily appropriate for me to pull this card but I know that growing up I was unable to experience a lot of things and I regretted that so much and I wanted to make sure that that did not happen again. But I think there are also certain things that I think I need money for that aren’t necessarily happy. Like wanting to buy more expensive clothes or a nice perfume or something like that to be more attractive to others. Or wanting more money to be able to comfortably pay for someone else’s dates or things like that. And I guess all of these things revolve around the central want. And it would be very deaf of me, not mention Buddhism, but my understanding being a large portion to eliminate the want. But I guess how do you differentiate between I want to do something for the wrong reasons versus I want to do something because I am excited too, like creating art or something along those lines. Like I want to experience life is that not a want?

NCAA Men's Basketball

While waiting for my vision to return to my normal following the injections in both eyeballs from my Retina Doc earlier this afternoon, I've found a college basketball game with a live radio feed I can listen to. The Wofford Terriers are playing the Tennessee Volunteers. With nearly 10 minutes left to play in the first half, Wofford is leading Tennessee 16 to 15.

I'm thinking my eyes should be closer to what passes for my normal by the time this game ends.

And the adventure continues.

Finally the mental constipation has lifted in a flood of beautiful words

It is the expectations, writing such a high quality prose is setting unreasonable standards; time and time again I have to remind myself why I am writing my thoughts down

It’s got nothing to do with showing someone something beautiful, it’s about showing sincere thoughts, showing the real you

It takes courage, of course. People might think that I am an idiot, or superficial, or whatever

And yes they might be right , but so what

I am living from this book I got for Christmas present, the courage to be disliked, I read that someone who’s lived a full life without making any enemies hasn’t lived their own life

and wouldn’t that be a shame, what if we live only once?

Hello there are stars in the sky, the sunset was pink.

The fly I brushed off my cheek. It couldn’t be bothered to fly away so it fell down dead and shrivelled on the desktop; presumably, it had a passive death wish.

And it’s almost always dark. Before the snow falls to reflect it, the wet brown grass seem to be sucking all the daylight in.

But it’s frost, like the powdered sugar on a princess cake. It’s thawing in the sunlight, but where the shadows are, it’s still white.

Isn’t that something? A powerful omen in these trying times, with flies falling down dead or stuck dead on the ceiling, that the shadows are brighter than their surroundings!

Essentially, the flies will become dirt in a final state of metamorphosis, as we all do, I guess.

As we all do.

Isn’t this life awesome (in the terrible sense of the word)? And still I feel tired exhausted, it’s no problem at all, relating to these dried up shrivelled flies

Alternative für Deutschland (AfD, Alternative for Germany) the German far-right party won its first German election in the former East German state of Sachsen-Anhalt. With the region being only 150 kilometers to the West of the capital, Germany this result has widespread ramifications for the future of Germany, its holocaust memory culture and most importantly the future of its growing immigrant and refugee populations. With over 44% of votes the AfD came first in the elections, with the traditional Center-Right and Center-Left parties CDU and SPD getting a sound trashing from the electorate, a mandate that's probable to repeat in other state elections and set the tone for the federal election in 2029.

The CDU coalition which is in power at the federal level however would prefer to keep its head in the sand and whine about the Left party winning in the State elections in Berlin, a threat which it sees as being more existential than the one brewing at a much higher temperature in almost all the states in the country. The anti-immigrant platform on which the AfD campaigns on finds a perfect bogeyman for the German far-right to pin the ailing problems of the economy, the failure of reunification and the effect of austerity politics on anyone except themselves. Plus the Trumpian USA and their oligarchs pining for an alliance of far-right states across the world find a corrupt and worthy partner in the AfD, whose popularity is improving every election thanks to the support of the American political climate.

This iteration of the AfD might not build concentration camps like their families did in the past but are salivating at the ICE raids happening all over the US. They dream of remigration a bonkers racist idea that has been mainstreamed in the past decade. Germany without its immigrants, Germany as a white, blond, blue-eyed nation as it was intended to be. Germany with a second tier citizenship model with Whites above the others. A country where the hatred for the Jews is replaced with one for the Muslims. In all their fascination, they want Deutschland to be more like Dubai, where the workers who build the nation get to be there in forced labor conditions while the White Sheikhs get to enjoy their wealth. A world of inequality, dreams of colonialism and where justice happens only through oppression.

The might is about to get it right, it's time for all sane headed Germans and stomp this menace out with their votes at the ballot booth. But with economic uncertainity and the looming AI and Iran war fuelled recessions in the air, it looks like there's going to be a repeat of history after all.

#Germany #AfD #elections

On Friday I finished reading The Years by Annie Ernaux, translated from the French by Alison L. Strayer. It’s an autobiography of sorts in which Ernaux navigates the milestones of her own life and times, meanwhile speaking more broadly on behalf of her generation. The text is thick with references to sayings, songs, movies, TV, advertising & other cultural touchpoints. I imagined Ernaux’s ideal readers to her compatriots & contemporaries for whom the these would be most readily recognisable, and richest with personal associations. From my standpoint — one generation, one country, one language away — there were very many references in the earliest parts of the book I couldn’t connect with. Nevertheless, I felt the pungent potency of Ernaux’s youthful recollections more than made up for the disorientation of unfamiliarity. Her reflections on the May ‘68 student protests, for example, brought home their significance more forcefully than anything else I’ve read about them. I less often lost my bearings as the text moved through the ‘80s, ‘90s and beyond, but felt the text’s power faded as the mellowing of age and the progress of cultural homogenisation wore on. There were passages that felt like little more than lists rattled off à la ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire.’ Ultimately it was a book I liked rather than loved.

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Also from Fitzcarraldo Editions, one of two slim volumes of poetry I picked up at Waterstone’s in Cardiff on Thursday (I had the week off work): Mer de Glace by Małgorzata Lebda, translated from the Polish by Mira Rosenthal. Buying poetry brand-new is a luxury I seldom indulge in — it can feel like too much of an extravagance to spend £12.99 on a fifty-page book where many of the pages have more white space than text. I have to remind myself that, over the longer term, a pinch of poetry can easily pay back as much in reading pleasure as a pound of prose. I scanned the shelves and picked out a couple of dozen slender titles, putting most of them back very quickly after glancing at a page or two. The other one that stayed in my hands was Volvelle by Rachael Boast. I’d given both books a quick initial reading on the half-hour train ride home: both had memorable moments to offer.

A third poetry book read this week was This Great Unknowing: Last Poems by Denise Levertov, this one a hardback ex-library copy obtained from an Oxfam shop. I’d read some of her work from the ‘60s and ‘70s just last year. It quite often happens that a poet’s swansongs can be among their least interesting offerings so I felt some apprehension as to whether I’d get along with these pieces or not. I was aware too that Levertov had embraced Catholicism in her later years, and wondered how that might feature in her work. As it happened I was impressed by the quality control throughout, and, while religion does find its way into several of these mostly plain-spoken pieces, it’s in a natural way as a part of their fabric. Here are the opening lines of the last poem Levertov completed, ‘Aware’:

When I opened the door
I found the vine leaves
speaking among themselves in abundant
whispers.
               My presence made them
hush their green breath,
embarrassed, the way
humans stand up, buttoning their jackets,
acting as if they were leaving anyway, as if
the conversation had ended
just before you arrived...

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Upstairs at the ‘Linc’ Blood Cancer charity shop on Winchcombe St. in Cheltenham on Wednesday, on an unassuming couple of shelves of LPs, I found a trove of albums on the Supraphon label of works by the Czech composer Bohuslav Martinů (1890-1959). I bought six of them for £11 (Fig. 45). Three were devoted to Martinů’s string quartets. I’d tried listening some years ago to a couple of these works without gaining much appreciation of them, but this time around they did make more of an impact, with nos. 4 and 7 the most immediately pleasing. Of the symphonic pieces on the other three records, the tensely foreboding ‘Double Concerto for Two String Orchestras, Piano, and Timpani’ (1938), and the more lyrical ‘Violin Concerto No. 2’ (1943) struck me as the highlights. I already knew and loved a few of Martinů’s chamber works, so it was a delight to explore a little more of his extensive & idiosyncratic output.

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Wine of the week: the bottle of Les Aumôniers Séguret Côtes du Rhône Villages AOP (2025, purchased at Lidl) I dipped into on Saturday evening. I was exactly in the mood for this straightforwardly delicious wine, and do hope the migraine aura that came on a couple of hours later had nothing to do with it.

It's called Splatterboard. Check it out here at splatterboard.app. It comes with dozens of coloring book pages. You can draw and color by yourself, or with your family and friends, without creating an account or giving any personal information.

This is the kind of article that's bad content marketing because it just explains why and how I made it, rather than trying to convince you it's something you personally need right now. That's the joy of giving things away for free; I just do the fun parts.

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A few months ago, I took my kid on a four hour flight. To prepare, I loaded up the freshly minted travel iPad with PBS Kids and whatever else I could find that was harmless. But the one thing I could not find was a drawing or coloring app that wasn't laden with ads and in-app purchases, or tied to a brand. Does nobody make a decent Kid Pix clone these days? It made me mad, and it made me think about what I could accomplish.

I can do this

I have a long history with drawing apps. I wrote my first one when I was twelve years old.

A decade later, I had graduated college, and my skills had evolved enough to write the open source library Literally Canvas. It was a drawing widget that didn't have a ton of practical use for me, but was fun to work on and found its way into learning management systems. Someone even paid me to work on it once!

In 2020, I was suddenly forced to start interviewing engineers remotely, and as a result had a lot of contact with multiuser whiteboards. They all felt like crap to use. I knew I could do better, so I wrote Browserboard. It was a partial success, finding a niche with language and math tutors, and remote art classrooms. Despite its rough edges, I was able to sell it to a company making a learning management system. But after a couple years, the owners disappeared, and the site went offline.

What could Kid Pix look like in 2026?

In the 1990s, the best way to be a kid drawing on a computer was Kid Pix.

Kid Pix wants you to play. It doesn't want you to pay $19.99 for a monthly subscription or watch an ad. It wants you to use your creative brain: take chances, make mistakes, get messy!

And yet, simply cloning Kid Pix isn't enough. Besides, that's been done.

I came up with these criteria:

1. Simple enough for a toddler to have fun with.
2. Works on any modern computing device.
3. Fun for me to work on. (Critical for a hobby project.)

To fulfill #3, I also decided it would be multiplayer, as in more than one person can draw at a time, and that I would write a “drawing app framework” that I could use for other purposes in the future.

Overengineering a toy for children

A lot of my “drawing app experience” is in API design. Between Literally Canvas and Browserboard, I knew where it was hard to keep good encapsulation across the stack, and where simple abstractions would quickly leak. So the first few weeks of this project were spent just getting the data model and rendering strategies in reasonable shape. I was doing it with Claude Code in mid 2025, which means the output was bad enough to need line-by-line review and constant badgering to avoid a big mess. I had erasers, a couple different strategies for pen strokes with good support for opacity, and simple shapes. And unlike my past projects in this space, I had a comprehensive suite of automated tests for rendering.

Once I had a data-driven rendering model, I moved on to storage and sharing. My past project Browserboard had used a CRDT I designed based on event sourcing and versioned key-value pairs. It was reasonably correct and very resource-light, but it was complex to maintain. So rather than reusing or rebuilding it, I went with Automerge, a collaborative data structure designed by people who know what they're doing. It uses more RAM, but I appreciate having an abstraction layer for storage and sharing, and unlike Browserboard, it doesn't require a server at all.

With those hard problems solved, I could “draw the rest of the owl.” I built the in-app interface with RE:DOM to keep it as lightweight as possible, but I used Vue for the rest of the site since it's a good balance between size and convenience. I made sure the UI is zealously responsive. I sourced public domain coloring book pages from as many places I could find, and made sure the coloring book experience was intuitive. (For example, the pen and paint bucket draw behind the coloring book lines, but stamps go on top.) I chased down performance issues.

I made sure the essential tools were all there. Pen, eraser, fill, spray paint, and stamps from public domain images sourced from another half-started drawing app project of mine. (They're delightfully low-res.)

Losing steam and finding it again

Near the end of 2025, I felt like I was close to finishing. But since this was an app explicitly for kids, I wanted to make sure there were parental controls to lock down sharing with strangers. This is where I lost motivation and dropped the project for a few months. It's just not very interesting to implement and test a bunch of dialogs and restrictions!

It's a good thing I put it down, because when I got back to it, I was able to spot a bunch of UX issues around sharing that I had been too in the weeds to see before. With that new clarity, I was able to wrap things up pretty quickly and test with friends, family, and a sizeable group of coworkers.

What's next

At this point, I'd be happy to leave Splatterboard alone. It works well enough to entertain my kid on a flight, especially since I added the “toddler mode” which disables a lot of the interactive controls.

But it's not Kid Pix. It's not wacky enough. If I get inspired, I'll add more playfulness: new tools, maybe sound effects.

And since I spent all that time writing a data-driven multiplayer illustration framework, maybe it's time to rewrite Browserboard? Time will tell.

Interesting time for me because I’m driving over to work right now and I usually don’t journal this early in the morning, but I kind of wanted to just talk a little bit. I guess about something on my mind. Nothing too serious, it’s literally just on my mind while I’m thinking about things and so might as well write it down. In the book that I just finished, which I’m gonna leave unnamed to avoid potential spoilers, there is a central almost otherworldly entity that kind of hover over this town and an ex justice and is a big kind of mystery and scary source throughout the book, it includes things like a cult, rituals, or them being in trees and in the pitch black night, and also at some point completely butchering, a massive bull and hanging it, with its blood splattered everywhere as a sacrifice. That is all context, but in the end of the book they reveal that it is actually one of the characters mothers along with several other of the older women in the town, and they make a joke about it like a play on words by saying what is with all of those old birds. And I guess the thing that kind of bugs me a little bit with that is how it feels like it is cheaply shoehorning women into this role almost as a sign of see women can actually do this too. And my issue is not at all with the female empowerment, personally I’m a huge fan and I love when media does that but in this case, and with some other cases, it kind of just feels like it’s almost a bit of a token, like it is not necessarily focused on that, but rather that this is added in after as a brownie point kind of thing. And I will say I don’t wanna be too critical on this author because I don’t think that they are too guilty of this compared to some other cases, but I feel like with a lot of female empowerment stuff. It feels kind of like trying to force a specific role or archetype onto a woman character rather than playing a little bit more towards the characters themselves and highlighting their strengths. Like it feels so cheap that this housewife, mother character that has been incredibly quiet and subservient and essentially just a side plot point to be then described as this physically incredibly dominating, terrifying creature that also is routinely doing these things all without their family noticing? And I guess it isn’t the most unrealistic or the worst writing I’ve ever seen but at the same time I feel like it would’ve been so much more empowering to see this character embodying these things throughout the book, not as just a reflection by saying oh actually the full-time I’ve actually been a strong female character, instead of the entire book them being someone on the back foot. And again, I feel like I’m being incredibly critical and I don’t want it to come off that way because it wasn’t bad, per se. I guess I just more feel like this frustration sometimes whenever I see these cheap attempts of empowerment, and it’s not me saying that I would rather they don’t have it at all, but I just wish in a perfect world situations are not as much an afterthought.

Benjamin Button est l’un de mes films préférés. Je lirai bientôt le livre de Fitzgerald.

J’aime l’image. Le rythme. Le personnage de Benjamin. Le jazz. Mais le temps a une place importante dans ce film. Benjamin naît vieux et rajeunit tout au long du film.

Je n’ai jamais vraiment compris l’intérêt de ce choix scénaristique. Quelque part, je me disais que le film fonctionnerait malgré tout avec un Benjamin qui vieillissait comme tout le monde.

Mais le temps. Le temps est une notion toute relative pour Benjamin. Il défile, mais en sens inverse. Sa notion du temps lui est propre et unique. D’une certaine manière le temps n’a pas d’emprise sur lui puisque sa physionomie n’est pas en accord avec son âge.

Il est un homme. Et voit le temps comme un cadeau qui lui est offert chaque jour. Lui qui pensait qu’il allait bientôt mourir alors qu’il n’avait que 5 ou 6 ans.

Benjamin n’a jamais été jeune, vieux, ado ou quoi que ce soit. Il a toujours été Benjamin. Le même, d’ailleurs il a une constance dans son caractère que j’aime beaucoup. Un calme. Un détachement. Un amour pour les gens quels qu’ils soient. Surtout pour les vieilles personnes qui lui ont partagé tant de sagesse.

Benjamin est hors du temps. Il est hors de tout schéma. Il est fidèle à lui-même, en toutes circonstances.

C’est cette force tranquille que j’admire j’ai l’impression.

If technology is changing what we’re learning, why we’re learning it, and also how we’re learning it, then how do we make school relevant again?

What schools are doing in relation to technology varies considerably by location. Some schools and school divisions are embracing technology, while others, including some here in Manitoba, are shunning it in favor of traditional systems and approaches to learning. Even within those two extremes, there is considerable variation in how technology is being approached and implemented.

What stands out to me is the contrast between how schools are approaching technology and how the workforce is approaching technology. Computers are on most desks now. Many offices have some form of chat or messaging capability between employees. AI is increasingly being used to help automate tasks and simplify processes.

Then we go into a school.

The classroom may have few, if any, computers in it. The computer lab is still down the hall and treated the same as the library, an optional, extra activity that comes after schoolwork is complete. Or, if technology is in the classroom, it does nothing more than turn a paper-based activity into a computer-based one.

Computer skills are a necessary part of many jobs now. Without them, many employers won't even consider you, while some teachers in divisions where technology is not widely accepted or used still haven't learned how to turn on a laptop without help. That's a stark contrast.

There is a general belief that when students go home, they are using technology enough that they don't need more of it in school. But there's a problem with that logic. Texting your friends and playing video games does not teach you critical thinking, spreadsheets, workplace email etiquette, general computer use, typing with more than two thumbs, or responsible AI usage. It doesn't teach you how to work with a mouse, navigate Windows or Mac OS, have a video call, use Word to type a document, and so on.

Exposure to technology at home is not the same as learning to use technology effectively in the workplace.

If the purpose of education is to give students the knowledge and skills they need to determine how they want to live, then we are doing our students a disservice by not actually preparing them to use the technology that surrounds them in the outside world. Shunning technology at school or not adequately teaching it undermines that purpose, reducing education to little more than dispensing knowledge we hope will be useful someday.

There are digital literacy skills that can be taught from kindergarten to Grade 8. Early, age-appropriate introductions to technology help to set expectations, provide foundational skills that can be built upon in later grades, and offer additional teaching methods that aren't available using traditional pen-and-paper approaches.

I am not suggesting that we put laptops on every desk starting in kindergarten and move school exclusively to the digital world. I am suggesting that we need to prioritize teaching appropriate usage and critical thinking. To teach appropriate usage, access has to be available more of the time, not just when the teacher decides to take their class to the computer lab.

I understand that devices can be a distraction, forcing teachers to spend considerable time getting students to pay attention to their lessons. That's actually a two-fold problem. First, lessons need to be engaging to keep students' attention. Simply managing the environment by banning devices doesn't guarantee they'll pay attention. Second, learning to manage those distractions is part of appropriate usage, and it should be taught directly in the classroom.

If schools establish appropriate usage policies from kindergarten, and all teachers enforce and model those same policies themselves, over time the school can create a natural, technology-friendly environment.

How do policies around not running in the hall get established and enforced? It's because all teachers enforce the same rules. Those same strategies apply to technology.

Schools don't ban walking because students sometimes run. They teach students when and how to move appropriately. The same thing can be created with technology.

Technology has to change what we teach, which means age-appropriate, responsible usage and critical thinking need to be included in the curriculum, not just in theoretical discussions at the high school level, but starting in kindergarten.

Critical thinking needs to be taught as a transferable skill, practised across subjects, and applied to the kinds of information students actually encounter, including AI-generated responses.

Critical thinking is not just spotting incorrect information, although that's part of it. It includes examining evidence, reasoning, context, and whether conclusions are justified. It's also about learning to critically evaluate information by challenging the assumptions being made.

Students need to do this not just with printed articles in the classroom, but also online, in real time, while engaging with AI output or other material they come across.

In order for that to happen, teachers need to be trained as well. Teacher education does not generally prepare teachers to teach technology unless they specialize in the subject area. Teachers need to understand how to use technology effectively and appropriately themselves, which means they need opportunities to develop and practise the same competencies they're expected to teach. That will require substantial professional development throughout the profession.

Teaching students to use technology prepares them for the world as it exists. Rethinking what we teach prepares them for the world as it's changing.

We can't keep pretending that students are not surrounded by technology when they leave school every day, or that computers aren't an integral part of the modern workforce, or that AI isn't becoming increasingly prevalent in workplaces.

In some ways, this brings us back to a more fundamental question about what the role of education actually is.

Is job readiness still a foundational part of school?

High schools continue to prepare students for college or university by asking them to choose between university entrance courses and non-university entrance courses. We continue to ask teenagers to make critical life choices about their futures.

If job readiness is no longer part of the K–12 education system, then why are we asking teenagers to make educational pathway decisions that can affect their future opportunities? Perhaps there should be one academic track for everybody that focuses on foundational life skills and a more general education.

If job readiness is going to continue to play a role in high school education, then we need to make sure schools are teaching current technology with an eye towards what might come next.

We can't continue to pretend that the world hasn't changed.

We don't have 20 years to conduct research before writing new curricula, training teachers, and bringing education into the 21st century. Research is important, but it doesn't mean we have to postpone teaching the technology skills students already need while we investigate what comes next.

How many more students need to graduate without an appropriate technology education before we fix the problem?

Election Day

En español al final.

Today, millions of us will walk into polling places carrying more than identification and a list of names.

We will carry our fears.

Our frustrations.

Our hopes.

Our anger.

Our memories.

Our disappointments.

We will carry the things we believe have been taken from us and the things we are afraid may be taken next.

Some will vote because they want change.

Others because they fear it.

Some will vote for justice.

Some for security.

Some for their children.

Some for their wallets.

Some because they believe the country is moving in the right direction.

Others because they are convinced we have lost our way.

And for a few minutes, behind a curtain or standing before a machine, each of us will exercise one of the quiet powers entrusted to ordinary citizens.

We will choose.

But before we do, perhaps there is another question worth asking.

Not simply:

Who will receive my vote?

But:

What am I carrying with me when I cast it?

Because fear can vote.

Anger can vote.

Resentment can vote.

Revenge can vote.

So can compassion.

So can conscience.

So can hope.

So can love of neighbor.

The ballot will not tell us which one held the pen.

Only we will know.

There is nothing insignificant about elections.

Governments make decisions that affect real people.

Policies determine whether families eat, whether children are educated, whether the sick receive care, whether the accused receive justice, whether strangers are welcomed or turned away, whether soldiers are sent to war, and whether power is restrained when it becomes abusive.

These things matter.

Our votes matter.

But perhaps that is precisely why we should be careful about what politics is allowed to become inside us.

Jesus once warned His disciples:

“And take heed to yourselves, lest at any time your hearts be overcharged…”

Among the things He warned could weigh down the human heart were simply:

“the cares of this life.”

There are few things today capable of occupying the heart quite like politics.

We watch.

We argue.

We scroll.

We predict.

We fear.

We become convinced that everything depends upon what happens next.

And slowly, almost without noticing, concern becomes anxiety.

Conviction becomes contempt.

Disagreement becomes hatred.

Our neighbor becomes our enemy.

And politicians become something they were never meant to be:

saviors.

Today we will choose people to hold power.

But before we do, we should ask what has been allowed to hold power over us.

If fear has convinced us that cruelty is acceptable, we should notice.

If anger has made another person's suffering satisfying, we should notice.

If loyalty to a party has caused us to excuse behavior we would condemn immediately from the other side, we should notice.

If winning has become more important than truth, we should notice.

And if we have begun believing that everyone who votes differently from us must be stupid, evil, hateful, ignorant, or beyond redemption—

perhaps we should notice that most of all.

Because tomorrow is coming.

The signs will eventually come down.

The advertisements will stop.

The texts asking for another five dollars will disappear.

Someone will win.

Someone will lose.

Some of us will celebrate.

Some of us will grieve.

And then we will walk outside.

The person who voted differently from us will still live across the street.

They will still teach our children.

Deliver our packages.

Repair our cars.

Work beside us.

Sit beside us in church.

Stand behind us at the grocery store.

Pull over when they see us stranded beside the road.

We will still need one another.

Democracy requires us to make choices about power.

Community requires us to remember that we belong to one another afterward.

Those are not competing responsibilities.

We can vote according to conscience without surrendering compassion.

We can oppose policies without despising people.

We can demand accountability without craving humiliation.

We can speak plainly about injustice without allowing injustice to teach us hatred.

A soft heart does not require a soft spine.

And conviction does not require cruelty.

So today, vote.

Take it seriously.

Study the choices before you.

Listen carefully.

Think deeply.

Pray, if you are inclined to.

And when you stand before that voting machine, ballot in hand, remember that you are doing more than deciding who should govern.

You are also deciding what you are willing to lend your name to.

Then cast your vote.

Walk outside.

And remember:

The election will eventually end.

Your neighbor will still be your neighbor.

Your conscience will still belong to you.

And long after the votes have been counted, there will remain another choice no machine can record:

whether fear will govern us,

whether hatred will define us,

whether power will consume us,

or whether, even now,

we will choose to love one another.

Today we will choose who holds power.

But we are still responsible for what holds power over us today.

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Día de las Elecciones

Hoy, millones de nosotros entraremos en centros de votación llevando algo más que una identificación y una lista de nombres.

Llevaremos nuestros temores.

Nuestras frustraciones.

Nuestras esperanzas.

Nuestra ira.

Nuestros recuerdos.

Nuestras decepciones.

Llevaremos las cosas que creemos que nos han quitado y aquellas que tememos que puedan quitarnos después.

Algunos votarán porque quieren un cambio.

Otros porque le temen.

Algunos votarán por la justicia.

Otros por la seguridad.

Algunos por sus hijos.

Algunos por sus bolsillos.

Algunos porque creen que el país avanza en la dirección correcta.

Otros porque están convencidos de que hemos perdido el rumbo.

Y durante unos minutos, detrás de una cortina o frente a una máquina de votación, cada uno de nosotros ejercerá uno de los poderes silenciosos confiados a los ciudadanos comunes.

Elegiremos.

Pero antes de hacerlo, quizá haya otra pregunta que valga la pena hacernos.

No simplemente:

¿Quién recibirá mi voto?

Sino:

¿Qué llevo dentro de mí cuando lo emito?

Porque el miedo puede votar.

La ira puede votar.

El resentimiento puede votar.

La venganza puede votar.

También puede votar la compasión.

También la conciencia.

También la esperanza.

También el amor al prójimo.

La boleta no nos dirá cuál de ellos sostuvo el bolígrafo.

Solo nosotros lo sabremos.

No hay nada insignificante en unas elecciones.

Los gobiernos toman decisiones que afectan a personas reales.

Las políticas determinan si las familias tienen qué comer, si los niños reciben educación, si los enfermos reciben atención, si los acusados reciben justicia, si los extranjeros son recibidos o rechazados, si los soldados son enviados a la guerra y si el poder es limitado cuando se vuelve abusivo.

Estas cosas importan.

Nuestros votos importan.

Pero quizá sea precisamente por eso que debemos tener cuidado con aquello en lo que permitimos que la política se convierta dentro de nosotros.

Jesús advirtió una vez a sus discípulos:

«Mirad también por vosotros mismos, que vuestros corazones no se carguen…»

Entre las cosas que advirtió que podían cargar el corazón humano estaban simplemente:

«los afanes de esta vida».

Hay pocas cosas hoy capaces de ocupar el corazón como la política.

Observamos.

Discutimos.

Deslizamos la pantalla.

Hacemos predicciones.

Tememos.

Nos convencemos de que todo depende de lo que ocurra después.

Y lentamente, casi sin darnos cuenta, la preocupación se convierte en ansiedad.

La convicción se convierte en desprecio.

El desacuerdo se convierte en odio.

Nuestro prójimo se convierte en nuestro enemigo.

Y los políticos se convierten en algo que nunca debieron ser:

salvadores.

Hoy elegiremos a personas que ejercerán el poder.

Pero antes de hacerlo, debemos preguntarnos qué hemos permitido que ejerza poder sobre nosotros.

Si el miedo nos ha convencido de que la crueldad es aceptable, debemos prestarle atención.

Si la ira ha hecho que el sufrimiento de otra persona nos resulte satisfactorio, debemos prestarle atención.

Si la lealtad a un partido nos ha llevado a justificar conductas que condenaríamos inmediatamente si vinieran del otro lado, debemos prestarle atención.

Si ganar se ha vuelto más importante que la verdad, debemos prestarle atención.

Y si hemos comenzado a creer que todos los que votan de manera diferente a nosotros deben ser estúpidos, malvados, llenos de odio, ignorantes o estar más allá de toda redención—

quizá debamos prestar especial atención a eso.

Porque mañana llegará.

Los carteles finalmente desaparecerán.

Los anuncios terminarán.

Los mensajes de texto pidiendo otros cinco dólares dejarán de llegar.

Alguien ganará.

Alguien perderá.

Algunos celebraremos.

Algunos lamentaremos el resultado.

Y después saldremos.

La persona que votó de manera diferente a nosotros seguirá viviendo al otro lado de la calle.

Seguirá enseñando a nuestros hijos.

Entregando nuestros paquetes.

Reparando nuestros autos.

Trabajando a nuestro lado.

Sentándose junto a nosotros en la iglesia.

Esperando detrás de nosotros en el supermercado.

Deteniéndose para ayudarnos cuando nos vea varados al costado de la carretera.

Seguiremos necesitándonos unos a otros.

La democracia exige que tomemos decisiones sobre el poder.

La comunidad exige que recordemos que seguimos perteneciendo los unos a los otros después.

Esas responsabilidades no están en conflicto.

Podemos votar de acuerdo con nuestra conciencia sin renunciar a la compasión.

Podemos oponernos a ciertas políticas sin despreciar a las personas.

Podemos exigir rendición de cuentas sin desear la humillación.

Podemos hablar claramente sobre la injusticia sin permitir que la injusticia nos enseñe a odiar.

Un corazón sensible no requiere una columna vertebral débil.

Y tener convicciones no requiere crueldad.

Así que hoy, vota.

Tómalo en serio.

Estudia las opciones que tienes delante.

Escucha con atención.

Piensa profundamente.

Ora, si así lo deseas.

Y cuando estés frente a esa máquina de votación, con la boleta en la mano, recuerda que estás haciendo algo más que decidir quién debe gobernar.

También estás decidiendo a qué estás dispuesto a prestar tu nombre.

Entonces emite tu voto.

Sal de allí.

Y recuerda:

Las elecciones finalmente terminarán.

Tu prójimo seguirá siendo tu prójimo.

Tu conciencia seguirá perteneciéndote.

Y mucho después de que se hayan contado los votos, quedará otra elección que ninguna máquina puede registrar:

si el miedo nos gobernará,

si el odio nos definirá,

si el poder nos consumirá,

o si, incluso ahora,

elegiremos amarnos los unos a los otros.

Hoy elegiremos quién ejercerá el poder.

Pero seguimos siendo responsables de aquello a lo que permitimos ejercer poder sobre nosotros hoy.

Welkom bij het nieuws volgens en van de StaatsOmroep Smægmå, of andersom.

Er is oorlog, er is ziekte, er zijn ongelukken, onderzoeken, rapporten over het klimaat, er wordt handel gedreven, heel veel handel gedreven, er zijn wedstrijden, er is buiten en daar is ons weer, er staan rijen wagens op snelwegen en in parkeerstellages, de lichten branden, de lichten gaan uit, we slapen er nog een nachtje over, kortom alles is zoals het altijd is, er is bijna geen nieuw nieuws meer de moeite van het presenteren waard daarom, niet alleen hierom, hebben wij besloten als gehele Smægmåånse Omroep Stichting om een jaartje over te slaan, we nemen samen een sabbatical opdat we hopelijk na een jaar weer fris en volledig opgeladen herbeginnen aan de uizendingen over hier eerder genoemde onderwerpen, berichten waarvoor wij blijkbaar zijn opgericht of in ieder geval heel vaak naar buiten brengen via de ons beschikbare media, u kent ze inmiddels maar al te goed, de radio, televisie en het wereldse lokale en internationale internet.
We hebben er geen zin meer in om u iedere keer dezelfde berichten te vertellen over de wederwaardigheden van leiders hier en daar en hun eeuwige competitie en concurrentie beginselen, we gaan met zijn allen minstens een jaar in een grot in de woestijn zitten pim pam petten, ezeltje prik spelen, vingerverfen en contempleren over heden, verleden en toekomst van een omroep voor de hele Staat Smægmå, en misschien komen we tot de conclusie dat we nooit meer berichten omroepen voor u in naam van ons geweldig vaderland of dat we het helemaal anders doen of gewoon op oude voeten en zolen verder gaan. U zult de tussenstand der oorlogen, het algemeen ziekte verloop, de persoonlijke ongelukken met grotere gevolgen en de lengte als ook de locatie van stilstaand en langzaam rijdende u op de snelweg elders moeten volgen, de krant, op een weblog, een podcast of zo maar voorlopig gaan wij u niet tegemoet komen met voortgangsrapporten over alles wat erg is, dood gaat, elkaar kapot schiet en dergelijke. Wij wensen u veel media genot zonder ons en dergelijke, met vriendelijke groet van het hele team van SOS, namens de voorzitter, missie leider van SOS,

Hannibal Lectœr

Discover the lively spirit of Craic, an overlooked gem compared to today's busy social media scene

An Irish pub, full of tales and laughter, is the best place for me to tell you about the vibrant essence of Craic – a gem often overlooked in today's whirlwind of social media and technology. Amidst the hustle of Twitter, Facebook's frenzy, or even LinkedIn where you might stumble upon this very story, about a different type of social media.

Once a beacon of swift information, Twitter transformed post-Elon Musk's acquisition, into a place of abrasiveness. It's a stark reminder of the dangers when digital realms lose ethical moorings and human decency. But there is an alternative.

Amidst this chaos, the finest form of social interaction is Craic. Hold on, it's not about indulging in vices. Craic encapsulates those moments when folks gather around a braai, a dinner table, or share a drink – be it beer, wine, tea, or coffee – engrossed in conversation. Originating from Ireland, it's bolstered with a good ol' bottle of whisky (or whiskey), sparking debates and immersive engagements.

Craic delves deeper; it's not just a chat, it's an immersive exploration. It ponders over the origins of things we often overlook in our fast-paced world. Modern marvels like phones, computers, or nuclear energy have ancestral roots we scarcely acknowledge. Even the sophistication of ancient civilizations, languages, and number systems often eludes our recognition. Imagine the Craic around the fire when the Pyramids were first raised!

When discussions arise, technologists often turn to smartphones for instant answers – but these sources aren't always definitive, failing when batteries die or signals vanish. Here's where the age-old debate of whisky versus Google comes in – and trust me, whisky triumphs!

Now, let me whisk you away to a little gem called Durty Nelly's, nestled alongside the Raite River near Bunratty Castle in Ireland. Picture it – a pub steeped in history. Durty Nelly's, adorned with a sign that piques curiosity, beckons with tales of its elusive namesake. Was Durty Nelly a woman you couldn't look in the eyes? Wink-wink! The pub's ambiance is woven with the cooing of pigeons, entwined with lively conversations, true Craic in its element.

Step inside. As dusk blankets the area and the River Shannon's mist drifts in, the warm glow of a peat fire illuminates the space. A piano tunes up, joined often by the beat of a Bodhran. And after a few pints of Guinness, the crowd erupts in drunken yet harmonious singing – a scene akin to Billy Mack crooning “Christmas is All Around,” only merrier.

A ritual unfolds as a Guinness is poured and left to settle for 125.27 seconds (an art in itself!). Observing the bubbles cascading in the glass becomes a mesmerizing prelude to that first creamy sip. The nuances of enjoying a Guinness, it's akin to mastering an art form or delving into physics. The bubbles flow downwards.

Amidst the sawdust-strewn floors, camaraderie reigns. Even if an American tourist stumbles in, a vividly green spectacle, laughter fills the air – reminiscent of Kermit the Frog. Here, conversations gravitate towards joyous tales; Craic is about laughter, not tears. And if someone trips, there's always a hand to steady them. Glasses clink multiple times, resonating with the chorus of “Sláinte” – the Irish cheer for good health.

Exiting into the night, stumbling towards waiting taxis, the confusion of climbing into the wrong one often adds to the laughter, a perfect ending to a night of merry-making.

Adjacent to Bunratty Castle, Durty Nelly's adds a medieval touch. Imagine reveling in a medieval banquet, serenaded by mesmerizing music, and sipping on Mead, a honey-based elixir that fuels the fervor of Craic.

Allow me to share a slice of Craic, my maiden voyage to Ireland for Liz and Noel's wedding. It involved a mad dash from Shannon to Cork to fetch Noel's suit, a spontaneous stop at Blarney Castle to kiss the Blarney stone, and a quirky encounter in a traffic jam between a Guinness truck and a tractor loaded with hay.

The unpredictable Irish roads, dotted with charming pubs, often beguiled travelers into impromptu stops. A pint led to another, and soon, dusk descended, urging us to hasten back to Shannon – albeit tardy for the wedding dinner. This resulted in a trust erosion of Noel and myself and we were designated a chaperone.

The chaperone was Liz’s brother Brian. Tasks unfolded, adventures ensued, and even a last-minute errand to fetch wedding rings turned into a detour to Durty Nelly's at the insistence of Brian. I’ll not forget the scene as we arrived back, Brian’s mom standing in the kitchen, greeting us with “Wipe that smirk off your face, Brain McGee.” Despite this tardiness and slight mishap, the spirit of Craic prevailed.

So, in the realm of social media giants, remember, there's no app for Craic. No, sorry WhatsApp, this is a journey through tales, laughter, and the vibrant essence of human connection – something no digital platform can replicate.

And a final bit of Craic, before we end. On a follow up trip to Ireland we were in a greasy spoon after a Guinness infused visit to Durty Nelly’s. While waiting for the food I plonked myself next to an Irishman. Could not understand a word he said, and then he fell asleep. When the food was ready, I helped him up to a taxi. All I succeeded in doing was moering his head into the car door post. My friends were horrified. Did I not know who I had just assaulted? It was the southern leader of the Provisional IRA. I did not end up with concrete boots, but some good craic to tell people around the Chiminea.

Ronald Bartels | LinkedIn | Instagram