Imaginez un instant la scène. Une sorte de type louche vous alpague au coin d'une rue numérique pour vous murmurer: Hé petit, tu veux voir les entrailles de l'algorithme de X ? C'est juste là, sers-toi. C'est précisément l'impression que donne la récente manœuvre d'Elon Musk. Le milliardaire semble tenir, du moins en partie, une promesse faite il y a une semaine, ouvrir l'algorithme de recommandation de son réseau social au public. Si l'intention paraît noble sur le papier, la réalité ressemble davantage à une vaste opération de communication qu'à une véritable révolution de la transparence.

Il faut se souvenir que Musk avait déjà promis cette ouverture dès 2022. À l'époque, nous avions eu droit à un simple instantané du code, rapidement devenu obsolète, loin de la définition standard d'un projet open source vivant et collaboratif. Cette nouvelle tentative, bien que présentée comme un pas en avant, souffre des mêmes maux chroniques. Le patron de X a promis de mettre à jour ce dépôt toutes les quatre semaines, mais permettez-moi de douter de la tenue de cet engagement quand on observe le passif de l'entreprise.

Le problème principal réside dans ce qui manque. Elon Musk avait assuré qu'il publierait tout le code utilisé pour déterminer les recommandations, y compris pour les publicités. Or, de là où je suis assis, cette promesse est loin d'être tenue. Le code régissant l'affichage publicitaire brille par son absence. Plus troublant encore, le système de tri par défaut du fil “Abonnements”, désormais géré par l'IA Grok depuis novembre dernier, semble lui aussi introuvable dans ce dépôt. Nous avons donc affaire à un puzzle incomplet dont les pièces les plus lucratives et les plus opaques ont été soigneusement retirées de la boîte.

Le site web Gizmodo a tenté d'obtenir des réponses sur ces omissions flagrantes, mais le silence radio de X est devenu une norme inquiétante. Néanmoins, nous voici avec ce nouveau tas de code et la première chose à savoir est que, selon les propres mots d'Elon Musk, cet algorithme est nul. C'est une déclaration fascinante, surtout quand on la compare à celle de Nikita Bier, chef produit chez X, qui se vante d'une augmentation du temps d'engagement des nouveaux utilisateurs. Qui croire ? L'algorithme est-il inefficace ou est-il une machine à addiction trop performante ?

La vérité est probablement plus cynique. Celui décrit dans la documentation technique ressemble à une mise à jour de la méthode TikTok. Un système conçu pour capturer votre attention à tout prix. Il ne cherche pas à vous informer ou à élever le débat, mais à stimuler vos pulsions les plus primaires. Il privilégie l'engagement pur, cherchant désespérément ce qui vous fera arrêter de scroller, quitte à vous inonder de contenus clivants. C'est un mécanisme qui flatte votre ça et ignore totalement votre surmoi.

Musk qualifie également son algorithme de stupide, une réponse directe aux plaintes de certains utilisateurs conservateurs américains, comme Mark Kern, qui estiment que le système pénalise les comptes souvent bloqués. Si cela est techniquement plausible, il est hilarant de voir ces critiques omettre que les comptes massivement bloqués sont souvent des vecteurs de harcèlement. L'algorithme ne serait donc pas woke, mais simplement un filtre basique contre les comportements toxiques, ce qui semble déranger une frange spécifique de l'utilisateur “libéré” par Musk.

Mais le point le plus critique de cette fausse transparence réside dans la nature même du système. X admet que tout repose désormais sur une architecture d'intelligence artificielle basée sur Grok. L'analyse ne se fait plus via des règles manuelles compréhensibles par un humain, mais par un apprentissage automatique opaque qui ingurgite vos clics, vos réponses et vos favoris pour recracher ce qu'il juge pertinent. Ouvrir le code d'une boîte noire neuronale est un non-sens. Voir le code source du conteneur ne vous explique pas comment l'IA prend ses décisions à l'intérieur. C'est du théâtre de la transparence, rien de plus.

Le contexte aggrave ce sentiment de fumisterie. La plateforme est devenue une entreprise privée, fuyant les obligations de reporting public et a récemment écopé d'amendes de l'Union Européenne pour son manque de transparence. De plus, l'outil Grok est actuellement sous le feu des critiques pour avoir généré des images non consensuelles à caractère sexuel. Dans ce climat de dérégulation et de chaos, jeter quelques lignes de code en pâture au public ressemble à une diversion maladroite.

Nous sommes face à deux concepts irréconciliables: les besoins d'une entreprise qui doit accrocher l'utilisateur pour vendre de la publicité et le désir humain d'être bien informé et serein. Rendre l'algorithme open source ne résoudra jamais cette équation impossible tant que le but ultime restera la maximisation du profit par l'attention. Nous verrons si les développeurs externes parviennent à extraire quelque chose d'utile de ce code, mais il y a fort à parier que cette opération ne serve qu'à masquer la réalité d'un service devenu un casino attentionnel imprévisible.

I’m at such a huge point in my life, but it’s also been such a nightmarishly stressful and shit day. Tomorrow will be better.

Hoe heerlijk zou het zijn als de wereld zo simpel was als een Marvel-film?

Dat je met bovennatuurlijke krachten de mensen die je pijn doen kunt uitschakelen en dat het dan gerechtvaardigd voelt.

Of dat je, zonder twijfel of nuance, je moeder de schuld kunt geven van al je ellende.

Misschien voelt dat zelfs tijdelijk bevrijdend: eindelijk een oorzaak. Eindelijk een vijand.

Alleen het is niet de waarheid.

De realiteit is complex. Misschien wel té complex.

Het leven geeft geen antwoorden in zwart-wit.

Mijn favoriete denker van deze tijd, Yuval Noah Harari (1976), wijst hierop in zijn boek Nexus.

In een interview met de Volkskrant zei hij dat hij niet begrijpt hoe goed opgeleide mensen zo zwart-wit kunnen denken over bijvoorbeeld goed en kwaad.

“Als de gewone man moeite heeft met het aanvaarden van de complexiteit van de realiteit, kan ik daar begrip voor opbrengen, want het is complex. Maar mensen die jarenlang geschiedenis, filosofie, literatuur of kunst hebben gestudeerd en zouden moeten hebben geleerd met de complexiteit van de realiteit om te kunnen gaan, dan na al die jaren van studie eindigen met het simplistische idee dat de ene kant honderd procent slecht is en de andere kant honderd procent goed, begrijp ik niet.”

En hij voegt eraan toe:

“Dan denk ik: Moest je daar al die jaren voor naar de universiteit? Je kunt kleine kinderen in één dag leren om zo te denken. Waarom ben je dan gaan studeren?”

Ja.

Goed punt.

Het interview eindigt met deze scherpe opmerking over wijsheid:

“Wijsheid komt voort uit het vermogen de complexiteit van de werkelijkheid te zien, en alle kanten van een dilemma, niet slechts één kant. Er zijn geen simpele antwoorden.”

==

Zelfhulpboeken en therapie bieden houvast.

Ze geven woorden aan wat ongrijpbaar voelt. Ze leren ons patronen herkennen.

Voorbeeld: “Jouw behoefte aan bevestiging komt door je afwijzende moeder.”

Ja. Oké. Dat klinkt helder. Maar is ze nu de vijand?

• Wat voor opvoeding kreeg je moeder zelf?
• Hoe heeft de maatschappij haar gevormd?
• Wat betekenen jouw eigen verwachtingen van ouderschap eigenlijk?
• In hoeverre projecteer je je eigen angsten en verlangens op haar gedrag?
• Wat doet het met je om haar niet alleen als ‘moeder’, maar als mens te zien?
• Kun je erkennen dat haar tekortkomingen niet alleen jouw littekens zijn, maar ook haar eigen worsteling met het leven?
• En wat zegt jouw verlangen naar bevestiging werkelijk over jou, los van haar?

Ik denk dat de grote levensvragen over ons verleden niet over schuld gaan. Het gaat erom of je begrip kunt vinden. Bij jezelf. Of wellicht bij degene die je pijn heeft gedaan.

Dat kan alleen als we het idee loslaten dat er één oorzaak was. Het is inzien dat jouw verhaal verweven is met dat van anderen.

Dat je moeder geen Marvel-vijand hoeft te zijn, net zoals jij geen slachtoffer hoeft te blijven. Dat het niet gaat om wie gelijk heeft, maar om wie de wijsheid heeft om de werkelijkheid beter te begrijpen, zoals Harari zo mooi omschreef.

Dat we inzien dat de waarheid niet ik vs. de ander is. Dat het ook niet in het midden ligt. Maar dat er altijd tegenstrijdige verhalen naast elkaar bestaan en ze allemaal even waar zijn.

Het is verleidelijk om vast te houden aan een verklaring. Om er een label op te plakken.

Dat snap ik.

Het lucht tijdelijk op.

Want onze geest wil grip in deze chaotische wereld. Op onze chaotische gevoelens.

We kunnen alleen de waarheid niet afdwingen met een label of een eenduidig verhaal. We kunnen het alleen een beetje benaderen.

Door te accepteren dat er geen eenvoudige antwoorden zijn.

Het leven is geen Marvel-film. Het is geen rechtlijnige zoektocht naar de slechterik. Het is een wirwar van tegenstrijdigheden, nuance en onbeantwoorde vragen.

Daarom waren de eerste vier seizoenen van de fantasy-serie Game of Thrones (2011) zo goed. Omdat het niet gaat over goed en kwaad. Maar over tegengestelde belangen van de verschillende ‘houses’. Waar personages voor heftige dilemma’s komen te staan.

Bijvoorbeeld.

Als kind Bran (van huis Stark) in een toren klimt en via het raam ziet dat Jaime (van huis Lannister) zijn tweelingzus Cersei zit te batsen. Een groot geheim, aangezien Cersei de vrouw is van de koning.

• Als Jaime Bran laat ontsnappen, zal iedereen weten dat hij zijn tweelingzus neukt. Wat betekent dat mensen doorhebben dat de zoon van de koning niet de zoon van de koning is, maar van hem.
• Als hij Bran bedreigt of hem tot rede brengt, zal dit geheim dan veilig blijven? Kun je een kind vertrouwen?
• Of hij vermoordt het kind… Probleem opgelost. Maar kan hij leven met het idee dat hij een kindermoordenaar is?

Veel films en tv-series zijn veel te moralistisch. Personages kiezen bij dilemma’s altijd het goede pad en de slechterik altijd het slechte. Maar niet in Game of Thrones.

Hoofdpersonages kunnen zomaar sterven of een kind (proberen te) vermoorden. Dit maakt het enorm onvoorspelbaar en daardoor ook enorm schokkend en daardoor wordt het ook juist realistischer.

Als je goed oplet bij het herbekijken, bouwt elke verhaallijn in de serie naar een dilemma toe en vervolgens zien we de gevolgen van die oplossing.

Het verbaast me daarom niks dat de laatste seizoenen van Game of Thrones niet om aan te gluren waren. Ze hadden het bronmateriaal van de boeken verlaten en lieten ook dat spel van dilemma’s volledig los. Het ging niet meer om sociologie maar psychologie, zoals Zeynep Tufekci (1978) zo mooi betoogde over het mislukken van het laatste seizoen.

=

Dat is niet makkelijk, om zo naar je eigen leven te kijken. Dat het een spel van belangen is.

Maar wel realistisch.

Je eerste verklaring is nooit je beste verklaring. Het is waarschijnlijk de meest primitieve. Het meest zwart-witte.

Om de nuance te vinden, zul je het verleden moeten blijven onderzoeken.

Blijf verklaringen vinden.

Probeer de nuance te zien.

Juist daarin schuilt een mogelijk gevoel van vergeving.

Ik weet het.

Dat is een groot woord.

Je hoeft er ook niet naar te zoeken, naar dat gevoel. Je hoeft niemand te vergeven.

Maar soms is een beetje compassie meer dan genoeg om het dragelijker te maken.

Heling wordt overschat. Want heling is geen eindpunt.

Dat wat je is overkomen blijft een gesprek dat je elke keer opnieuw met jezelf voert. Gevoelens veranderen. Verklaringen veranderen. De rest van je leven lang.

Hopelijk neemt de intensiteit daardoor af.

Zodat je er weer mee kunt leven.

Liefs,

Tomson

Iemand die te gevoelig reageert op een situatie en wil dat er rekening wordt gehouden met die persoon, wordt een ‘snowflake’ genoemd.

Het idee is dat zo iemand, net als een sneeuwvlok, denkt dat hij uniek is. Tegelijkertijd kan hij weinig weerstand bieden tegen veranderende omstandigheden of kritiek.

Sinds de opkomst van Donald Trump (1946) in Amerika in 2016 is deze term veelvuldig gebruikt om de gevoelige generatie Z te kleineren.

De term ‘snowflake’ bestaat al meer dan honderd jaar, maar is in ons woordgebruik gekomen dankzij een boek uit de jaren ’90.

Een van mijn favoriete schrijvers en een van de grootste invloeden op mijn werk is hier verantwoordelijk voor. Hij heet Chuck Palahniuk (1962) en bracht in 1996 het boek Fight Club uit. Over mannen die voor de lol gaan vechten in kelders en van daaruit een anarchistische terroristische organisatie beginnen om de kapitalistische samenleving omver te werpen.

Met name de verfilming van dit boek, Fight Club (1999), bracht de term ‘snowflake’ in omloop. Als metafoor voor de mens die maar één persoon echt belangrijk vindt in het leven: zichzelf.

Alleen Chuck heeft deze term nooit zo bedoeld. Hij bedoelde juist iets heel anders.

==

Het boek Fight Club kwam in 1996 uit. De oplage was maar een paar duizend stuks en de verwachtingen van de uitgever waren zeer laag. De recensenten die de moeite namen om er wat over te schrijven, vonden het boek ook helemaal niks.

De roman is een aanklacht tegen consumentisme, het verheerlijkt op een ironische wijze mannelijkheid en bevat een van de grootste plottwists uit de culturele geschiedenis. Maar waar iedereen over viel, was de gewelddadigheid.

En toen meldde Hollywood zich. Regisseur David Fincher (1962) wilde heel graag dit boek verfilmen. Brad Pitt (1963), Edward Norton (1969), Helena Bonham Carter (1966) en Jared Leto (1971) werden gecast.

De film kwam in 1999 uit.

Het was echt een gigantische flop.

Mede doordat de film, net zoals het boek, verkeerd werd begrepen. Mensen vielen over de gewelddadigheid en de macho-uitstraling van mannen die zonder shirt in een kelder met elkaar gaan knokken voor de lol.

Ja.

Daar gaat de film wel over. Maar er zitten zoveel meer lagen in deze film. Het is satire. Het is ironie. Het gaat over de gevolgen van feminisering van de samenleving op een groep mannen die daardoor buitengesloten raken. Het gaat over het systeem uitdagen en omver werpen. Het gaat over zoveel meer.

En tegelijkertijd. Ik snap de verwarring uit 1999 ook wel.

Welke date wordt nou warm om naar de bioscoop te gaan voor een film met de titel Fight Club? Ze hadden het beter knuffelclub kunnen noemen.

Maar toch ook wel jammer. Want die koppels hebben de mooiste romantische zin ooit uitgesproken in een film gemist.

Ik bedoel, kom op. Dit kan toch niemand overtreffen na een seksscène?

‘I haven’t been fucked like that since grade school’, zegt Marla (Helena Bonham Carter) tegen Tyler (Brad Pitt).

De grap is dat er in het filmscript eerst een veel ergere quote stond die rechtstreeks uit het boek kwam.

Maar de producenten zagen dit totaal niet zitten. Zelfs Brad Pitt werd daar wat ongemakkelijk van. ‘Mijn mams ziet deze film ook!’ was zijn verweer.

Bestaat er een meer romantische zin in de literatuur dan de zin na een vrijpartij: ‘I want to have your abortion’?

Toen de producenten de one-liner ‘I haven’t been fucked like that since grade school’ eindelijk op beeld zagen, wilden ze toch liever de zin uit het boek erin hebben. Maar het was al te laat. David Fincher weigerde dit eruit te knippen.

Het boek en de film zitten vol met andere geniale en heftige quotes die jij waarschijnlijk ook wel kent. Zelfs als je de film nog nooit hebt gezien.
(Ik kom iets verder in dit stuk terug op de quotes.)

Dit komt door de schrijfmethode van Chuck Palahniuk. En ik denk ook juist door die schrijfmethode dat de film en ook het boek uiteindelijk wel een heel groot succes werden.

Chucks visie is dat je door het lezen van schokkende literatuur toegang krijgt tot je eigen onderdrukte trauma’s. Je geeft de lezers via de horror op papier toestemming om hun eigen trauma’s te voelen en daardoor op te lossen.

Dit effect kun je alleen voor elkaar krijgen als je scènes omschrijft die eigenlijk te heftig en te kwetsbaar en te rauw zijn.

Deze methode heet dangerous writing. Een term bedacht door schrijver Tom Spanbauer (1946–2024), die jarenlang schrijfworkshops aan onder andere Chuck heeft gegeven.

==

Schrijver Tom Spanbauer voelde zich bevrijd toen hij als tiener voor het eerst zijn gedachten opschreef in een schrijfboekje.

Hij noemde het boekje ‘truth book’. Een boekje om geheimen in op te schrijven die je nergens anders kon vinden.

Dit waren de eerste zinnen:

‘Billie Cody heeft dikke tieten.’

‘Volgens mij is Kurt Cameron queer.’

‘Ik masturbeer drie keer per dag.’

Deze waarheden zaten nu niet meer in hem, maar stonden op papier. Ze waren in de wereld. En nu kon hij ze teruglezen en voelde hij zich niet meer zo alleen.

Het was als een bevrijding.

Zijn moeder vond een paar weken later het boekje. Het streng christelijke gezin kon zijn waarheden niet aan.

Zijn vader schopte hem twee weken later het huis uit en wilde hem nooit meer zien.

Deze pijn van verstoten zijn door je familie vind je in elke roman van de Amerikaan terug. Het zoeken naar een nieuwe familie. Net zoals elk van zijn romans gaat over de worsteling met seks en biseksualiteit.

Het is pijnlijk om interviews van de laatste tien jaar van zijn leven terug te lezen. Hij leed niet alleen fysiek door de ziekte AIDS, maar had het ook mentaal zwaar. In een ver verleden werden zijn romans bejubeld, gelauwerd en verkochten ze ook aanzienlijk. Hij was een cultfiguur in de queer gemeenschap. Maar de laatste vijftien jaar wist hij maar met moeite een uitgever te vinden die zijn nieuwe werk wilde uitbrengen.

Ik heb drie boeken van hem gelezen: In the City of the Shy Hunters (2001), I Loved You More (2013) en Now Is the Hour (2006).

Ik kan echt moeilijk omschrijven hoe diep zijn boeken me raken. Er zit een onderlaag in die me betovert. Er zit veel humor in, onvergetelijke personages en vooral heel veel kwetsbaarheid en gevoeligheid over het ongemak van seks en seksuele geaardheid. Ook de rauwheid is ongekend.

Spanbauer schrijft alleen maar ‘waarheden’ op. De methode die hij al tal van schrijvers heeft geleerd via zijn dangerous writing-methode. Dankzij zijn workshops hebben meer dan veertig Amerikaanse auteurs kunnen debuteren bij een uitgever.

Het enige wat telt als je schrijft, is diepe waarheden naar boven brengen.

Er staat maar één vraag centraal: waarom deed je wat je deed?

En je moet daar zeer diep voor gaan tijdens het ‘bloeden op papier’. Het moet je bijna vermoorden. Alleen dan krijg je authentieke teksten.

Je ziet het terug in zijn werk. Een waarheid die je tranen in de ogen geeft. Het zijn die details die je laten schrikken. Omdat je ze herkent.

Maar Spanbauer schuwt ook de controverse niet. Zoals het boek I Loved You More (2014). Zelfs de open-minded queer gemeenschap was geschokt en sprak er schande van dat er tot in detail over anale seks wordt gesproken.

Het zat blijkbaar te dicht op de waarheid…

Het is de waarheid die het boek over zijn jeugd Now Is the Hour ook zo kwetsbaar en zo betoverend maakt.

Rigby groeit op in een zeer streng christelijk gezin, waar seks, homoseksualiteit en masturbatie niet bestaan. Daardoor snapt Rigby niet goed wat er in zijn lichaam gebeurt als hij begint te puberen.

Hij trekt zich af. Komt klaar. Voelt zich heel smerig en schuldig erover. Om zich daarna opnieuw af te trekken. Zijn moeder betrapt hem op een dag en hij krijgt ervan langs van zijn vader met de riem. Daarna wordt hij naar de kerk gebracht, waar hij zijn zonden moet opbiechten en moet zweren het nooit meer te doen.

Met zijn eerste vriendinnetje weet hij ook niet zo goed wat er nu van hem verwacht wordt. Wat hij überhaupt mag voelen. Wat hij hoort te doen. Wat hoort en wat verboden is.

Seks is iets dat in zijn gezin gewoon niet bestaat en dan vertelt zijn zus hem huilend in de auto dat ze zwanger is van haar vriendje.

Rigby sluit zich thuis op in de badkamer als zijn zus het opbiecht aan de ouders. Zodat hij het geschreeuw en gescheld niet hoeft te horen.

Poh.

Wat een roman.

De bekendste en meest succesvolle schrijver uit zijn workshop is Chuck Palahniuk.

==

Je ziet de dangerous writing-methode heel goed terug in het boek Snuff (2008) van Chuck Palahniuk.

In deze roman probeert pornoster Cassie Wright een wereldrecord mannen in 24 uur neuken te verbreken. Zeshonderd stuks. En ze hoopt tijdens de uitvoering hiervan ook nog te sterven aan een of andere vaginale aandoening op het eind.

Laat maar zeggen: sterven in het harnas, om echt een legende te worden.

Dit wordt allemaal gefilmd, in de hoop dat het een groot commercieel succes wordt in pornoland.

De titel van de pornofilm is: World Whore Three: The Whore to End All Whores.

Ja. Ik snap dat zo’n boek niet per se uitnodigt om te lezen. Maar Palahniuks verweer is dat je literatuur tot het extreme moet opblazen om tot het echte ongemak van de mens te komen.

De kern van het boek is niet de hang naar beroemd worden. De kern van het boek is seksueel ongemak.

Als Cassie faalt in haar wereldrecord in het boek, is ze gewoon een ordinaire slet. Als ze het record verbreekt, is ze een legende.

Dat is het patriarchale oordeel waarmee we naar vrouwen kijken in onze samenleving.

Een van de mannen die in de rij staat tijdens de filmshoot is ervan overtuigd dat hij de zoon van Cassie is.

De mysterieuze zoon die Cassie na de geboorte heeft weggegeven. Een ‘ongelukje’ tijdens het opnemen van een pornoscène in het verleden. Niemand weet wie die zoon is.

Maar deze jongen wel. Hij is het.

Hij kwam erachter toen hij zich zat af te trekken op een pornoclip van Cassie. Tot hij met zijn lul in de hand al rukkend werd betrapt door zijn adoptiemoeder. Die, al wijzend naar het scherm, zei: ‘Dat is je moeder’!

Ongeloofwaardig?

Uiteraard.

Maar tegelijkertijd is dit een van de populairste genres op bepaalde websites: MILF.

Freud (1856–1939) zou het beamen. We hebben een vreemde relatie met vader- en moederfiguren in onze samenleving.

Het traumatische component in deze scène zit erin dat sinds die jongen betrapt is op aftrekken op zijn eigen moeder, hij geen stijve meer kan krijgen.

En dat is een trauma waar mensen zich mee kunnen identificeren.

Omdat het onderdrukte trauma’s zijn voor mannen én vrouwen.

Gebeurtenissen uit onze jeugd die invloed hebben op onze seksuele beleving als volwassenen. Ik heb het niet eens per se over seksueel misbruik, maar over seksuele schaamte.

Je deed als kind iets ‘volwassens’ en werd betrapt en die verwarring van schaamte en opwinding blokkeert je seksuele plezier.

Dat is een thema waar niemand over praat. Maar via fictie kun je wel toegang krijgen tot je schaamte.

Dat was de kern van het boek Snuff. En het boek werkte. Tijdens de boektour kwamen ontelbaar veel fans op Chuck af om te vertellen over hun seksuele schaamte uit de jeugd. Zoals een vrouw die als meisje had ontdekt dat een huishoudelijk apparaat van haar moeder trilt als je het aanzet en dat het grappige gevoelens geeft als je het tussen de benen stopt. Ze nodigde allemaal vriendinnen uit om dit thuis bij haar te proberen. Tot haar moeder binnenkwam en ze betrapte. Ze heeft haar dochter een flinke afranseling gegeven met de kabel van het apparaat en sindsdien heeft deze vrouw nooit meer een orgasme gehad. Of de gast die als kind tijdens een American footballwedstrijd de kledingkist van zijn moeder ontdekt en zich omkleedt tot vrouw in jurk en zo de woonkamer instapt waar de vader met vrienden de wedstrijd kijkt en zegt: ‘Kijk papa hoe knap ik er nu uitzie?’

Je kunt je voorstellen dat er opnieuw een afranseling volgde, ditmaal met de riem.

Dat zijn de trauma’s uit onze jeugd waar we ons voor schamen. Die we wegdrukken. Maar elke keer opnieuw in bed aan het licht komen.

Literatuur lezen geeft je toestemming om je minder gek te voelen. Om die gevoelens in beweging te zetten. ​ Dat geldt ook voor Fight Club.

==

De kern van het boek Fight Club is niet dat jongens graag met elkaar stoeien en dat volwassen mannen deze mannelijke behoefte omzetten in een illegale vechtclub om met elkaar te knokken.

De kern van het boek (en deels ook de film) is dat veel mannen zonder vader opgroeien in Amerika.

Ze voelen zich eenzaam, gefrustreerd, niemand die ze uitlegt hoe de wereld werkt.

Volgens Chuck weten vrouwen zich altijd goed te organiseren in theeclubjes, boekenclubs, tupperwareparties en gender reveal parties, et cetera. Maar mannen weten niet goed hoe ze bij elkaar moeten komen.

Daarom bedacht hij Fight Club. Eindelijk een club waar mannen zich verbonden en begrepen voelen.

Het gemis van een vader wordt gecompenseerd in zo’n knokclub.

In de film zit een scène waarin de Narrator (Edward Norton) op de wc zit en Tyler (Brad Pitt) in bad ligt, wat dit thema goed typeert.

Ze hebben net daarvoor een vechtclub opgericht en fantaseren in de badkamer erover met wie ze zouden willen vechten als alles mogelijk is.

Tyler: ‘If you could choose, who would you fight?’

Narrator: ‘I’d fight my boss, probably.’

Tyler: ‘Really?’

Narrator: ‘Yeah, why? Who would you fight?’

Tyler: ‘I’d fight my dad.’

Narrator: ‘I don’t know my dad. I mean, I know him, but … He left when I was like, six years old. Married this other woman and had some other kids. He did this every six years. He changes city and starts a new family.’

Tyler: ‘Fucker’s setting up franchises!’

Korte pauze.

Tyler: ‘My dad never went to college. So it was real important that I go.’

Narrator: ‘That sounds familiar.’

Tyler: ‘So I graduate. Call him up long-distance and say: “Dad, now what?” He says: “Get a job.”’

Narrator: ‘Same here.’

Tyler: ‘Now I’m 25. Make my yearly call again. “Dad, now what?” He says: “I dunno. Get married.”’

Narrator: ‘You can’t get married. I’m a 30-year-old boy.’

Tyler: ‘We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.’

Bam.

Dit is de kern van het verhaal.

De emotionele connectie waar mannen op aanslaan. Dit is die onderlaag.

‘We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.’

Ikzelf ben opgegroeid in een gezin waarin mijn ouders bij elkaar zijn. Maar voor de klas heb ik weinig mannen gezien.

Laat staan als je pa ’m voor de bevalling peert, je hem door een scheiding weinig ziet, of als die altijd aan het werk is en ’s avonds laat pas thuiskomt.

Jongens hebben mannen nodig als voorbeeldfiguur in hun leven. Die ze laten zien hoe je je als een gentleman gedraagt. Hoe je met je gevoelens omgaat. Hoe je wat van je dag maakt en van je leven. Hoe je met respect met vrouwen omgaat.

Maar waar zijn die mannen?

Chuck Palahniuk was zenuwachtig toen hij zijn eigen vader via de telefoon sprak na het uitkomen van het boek. Zou hij doorhebben dat het boek deels over de relatie met hem ging?

Chuck komt uit een gewelddadig gezin. Zijn ouders hadden altijd ruzie. Tot bloedens toe. Het boek schrijven was een manier om met dat verleden om te gaan.

Maar weet je wat het maffe was?

Zijn vader had het niet door dat het over hem ging.

De vader van Chuck koppelde het verhaal namelijk aan de ingewikkelde relatie die hij zelf had met zijn vader.

Dat is ook de magie van literatuur. We bekijken het altijd vanuit onszelf.

Goed.

==

Het boek was een flop. De film ook. Maar op dvd groeide het uit tot een van de best verkochte dvd’s ooit. Posters belandden op vele deuren en muren van jongeren en studenten.

Ook het boek ging dankzij de film meer dan een miljoen keer over de toonbank.

Misschien ken je zelf deze film niet, maar elke gast in jouw omgeving kent deze film absoluut wel. Het is de Sissi onder de jongens.

Fight Club heeft veel invloed gehad op de hedendaagse popcultuur.

Zoals de beroemde zin: ‘The first rule of Fight Club is you do not talk about Fight Club.’

Of: ‘The things you own end up owning you.’

Of: ‘Hitting bottom is not a weekend retreat. It’s not a goddamn seminar. Stop trying to control everything, and just let go. Let go!’

Of: ‘I felt like destroying something beautiful.’

Maar ook de quote:

‘You are not special. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else.’

Chuck Palahniuk heeft de term ‘snowflake’ nooit bedoeld als een denigrerende opmerking.

Het was meer bedoeld als motivatie om de status quo van ‘snowflake’ te verlaten.

Het idee dat tegen kinderen wordt gezegd: “Je bent speciaal. Je bent bijzonder.” Terwijl ze nog niets hebben gepresteerd of gedaan in het leven.

Waarom zou je dan nog je best doen om iets moois van je leven te maken als je al zo bijzonder bent?

Chuck bedoelt: accepteer niet wat er tegen je wordt gezegd. Accepteer niet wat je bent. Laat je niet in een hok stoppen door de samenleving.

Identificeer je niet met labels.

Ontstijg die labels.

Wees absoluut geen snowflake.

Zoals bijvoorbeeld zijn eigen homoseksualiteit. Waarom de term ‘homo-schrijver’ accepteren en je daarnaar gedragen zoals de ‘samenleving’ verwacht dat een homoseksuele schrijver zich gedraagt? Hij heeft, net zoals andere schrijvers uit de jaren ’90 zoals Bret Easton Ellis (1964) en Douglas Coupland (1961), zijn homoseksualiteit lang verborgen gehouden om deze kwalificatie te voorkomen. Om koste wat kost te voorkomen dat hun boeken bij de ‘gay’-sectie van de boekhandel terechtkwamen.

Nee.

Je bent niet uniek. Je bent niet je label. Je bent een heleboel meer.

Liefs,

tomson darko

It is the future, and Nanofactories have brought the rest of the universe to our doorstep. Any material object can now be printed directly into our living rooms, granted we have the schema files.

This immediacy is incredibly efficient, but there is a sense we have lost some of the magic and mystery that we used to attach to things distant and rare. Historic romantic obsessions, such as Orientalism or Futurism, were powerful to people largely because the objects of desire were distant and near-unobtainable. That gap between the desire and the acquisition created a space for the imagination to fly and bloom.

That’s not to say we want to go back to such romantic fantasies, because, as we now clearly know: they were fantasies. Orientalism could be positive when it enchanted people to want to learn more about very real cultures to their East. But it was destructive when it was shared as accurate representation. At its worst, it portrayed people from the Middle-East and Asia as “other” enough that Western civilians would not empathize when Western governments invaded, pillaged, enslaved, and forced opium through those same Eastern nations.

Let us never return to that world.

Futurism was different, but still tricky. Through Humanist and adjacent movements, it inspired many many people to contribute to the sciences, to engineering, and to the arts. We had taken the reigns of history from unpredictable gods, and assure ourselves that we were on track to a better future. There was indeed widespread flourishing as a result of this movement, but there were also those who became too obsessed and blinded by the fantasy of that future, that they willingly sacrificed their present world for it.

Within a few decades of the birth of the Internet – that Futurist invention which connected people across Earth – the leading technology companies ignored consent and unleashed armies of “scraper” bots to ingest all of the information and creations of the world’s population to train their new Generative Artificial Intelligence models. These companies built vast data centers to power these models, sucking up enormous percentages of global energy, water, and computation hardware in the process.

Even at the time, many people were asking who would commit to such destructive, trust-breaking, and unsustainable development. These were not idiots – far from it. It was because the Futurist fantasy they held core included building god-like super-AI panaceas which would cure all of the world’s issues. When you are bringing about God, any sacrifice is worth it. And yet again these Romantics of the Distant committed their lives to false utopian fantasies, and sacrificed the consent and rights of many real humans along the way.

So now that we can print anything, whenever we desire, does Romanticism still have a place in our world? Should it? I suppose those among you old enough might remember a time when many Nanofactory design schemas were hard to find online. That time brought a kind of romanticism. I remember spending three days searching for the schema for a Honeyball Orange tree, as I had heard they were the tastiest of oranges. For three days I looked, and convinced myself in the process that these was going to be life-changingly tasty. No other orange tree could match. I didn’t find it at the time, but years later, during the Open-Schema boom, I finally came across it. I printed it, picked, and sliced open my first Honeyball Orange. And finally I tasted it. It was delicious. It really was. But I don’t know whether I can say it was life-changing in the way I had charged myself to believe. I probably wouldn’t recommend anyone else spending three days for this orange.

This is where I’m particularly intrigued by the recent “Hinted Design” movement emerging from the Avant-Garde side of the Printed Arts. One of their core philosophies centres around creating print schemas for objects which do not tell the whole story, but are designed to spark the imagination to fill out the empty space and the blanks. They often utilize moving lines, glassfreeze, and photon catchers to give a shimmering sense of a full object that could be.

I suspect that this kind of Romanticism we should continue to pursue – where we go in knowing that it is invigorating imagination at work, but also knowing that these distant fantasies are made to inspire, not to convey reality itself.

Vivo solo desde 2014. Doce años de silencio cotidiano cambian la forma en que uno se relaciona con los demás.

Aprendí a estar en silencio. A tenerme como compañero. A habitar el tiempo de la manera que más me gusta.

Por eso, cuando alguien se me acerca con expectativas, con intensidad o con cierta invasión, generalmente no reacciono bien. No es rechazo: es cuidado. Protejo el espacio que me permite respirar.

Con el tiempo entendí que no se trataba de aislarme, sino de ordenar.

Hubo un tiempo en el que no sabía estar solo. Necesitaba estar con amigos, con mi novia de ese entonces, siempre acompañado. Y lo disfrutaba. Pero sin planearlo, sin decidirlo conscientemente, la vida me fue llevando —con paciencia— al lugar que hoy habito.

Hoy quiero escribir sobre cómo he ordenado eso que llamo mi ecosistema social.

---

¿Qué es mi ecosistema social?

Es el conjunto de espacios, ritmos y personas que me rodean y que cumplen, más o menos, estas condiciones:

• no exigen intensidad
• no colapsan en el silencio
• permiten conversación sin agenda
• no dependen de las redes

No es una renuncia a los vínculos, es una forma de evitar que se desgasten.

Con el tiempo entendí que este ecosistema funciona mejor cuando tiene tres capas claras y dos ritmos bien cuidados.

---

Las tres capas

Capa 1: el núcleo

Una o dos personas. No más.

Son vínculos donde puedo hablar de cualquier cosa: lo importante, lo absurdo, lo profundo o simplemente jugar y bromear. No necesitan ser sostenidos activamente. El silencio de horas o días no se vive como abandono.

A veces es una caminata que se retoma después de semanas. O un audio que no exige respuesta inmediata. O una conversación que continúa exactamente donde quedó.

Estos vínculos no se buscan: se reconocen cuando aparecen. Curiosamente, suelen nacer en conversaciones laterales, sin intención, sin escenario preparado. Más adelante quiero desarrollar esa idea.

Suelen ser amigos antiguos, o personas con las que el tiempo ya hizo su trabajo.

Aquí el eje no es la conversación ni el silencio por sí solos, sino la confianza. El tiempo de calidad aparece cuando hace falta, no cuando se fuerza.

---

Capa 2: la afinidad

Aquí están las personas con las que converso bien. Hay intereses en común, pero el vínculo todavía no es núcleo.

Cuando nos vemos —o acordamos vernos— hablamos de eso que compartimos: cocina, matemáticas, física, ingeniería, ideas. No se trata de quién tiene la razón ni de quién sabe más. No hay competencia. Hay respeto y admiración mutua: yo por lo que saben, ellos por lo que yo sé.

En esta capa, la conversación es el centro. Y eso, para mí, es profundamente satisfactorio.

---

Capa 3: el hábitat (espacios, no personas)

Esta capa no está hecha de gente, sino de lugares.

Son mis espacios. Lugares donde no busco conversación; si ocurre, es un efecto secundario. No tengo que presentarme, no tengo que rendir. Voy solo y regreso lleno.

Aquí viven mi clase de cocina, el gimnasio, la natación, el ciclismo cuando hay buen grupo, algunas charlas o talleres a los que asisto con regularidad, o incluso ese restaurante que ya me reconoce sentado solo.

Este hábitat sostiene todo lo demás.

---

El ritmo: donde todo se cuida

Los vínculos que valen, se sostienen solos. Pero necesitan ritmo.

Aquí es donde debo encontrar el compás que más me gusta entre las tres capas. Demasiado de algo cansa. Muy poco, y el vínculo no se desarrolla.

Si vamos de afuera hacia adentro:

• Un hábitat visitado en exceso aburre. Mucho ciclismo, mucha cocina, demasiado de lo mismo, pierde encanto.
• En la capa de afinidad, abusar del contacto no deja madurar ideas ni vivir experiencias nuevas; no da espacio al crecimiento silencioso.
• Y si el núcleo deja de ser tranquilo y natural para volverse obligado, actuado o forzado, también se agota.

El ritmo no se impone: se escucha.

---

El lenguaje también cuida el ritmo

Por eso cuido mucho cómo hablo de los encuentros.

No me nace decir: “a ver cuándo nos vemos” “deberíamos vernos”

Prefiero frases como: “me gustó esta conversación” “cuando coincida, seguimos” “otro día seguimos hablando”

No cierran puertas. Dejan respirar el encuentro.

Porque si ya valió la pena, no necesita ser amarrado.

Tal vez cuidar los vínculos no sea vernos más, sino saber cuándo dejar espacio.

---

Con el tiempo entendí que mi ecosistema social no se trata de sumar personas, planes o presencia, sino de cuidar las condiciones: el espacio, el ritmo y la calidad con la que algo ocurre.

Hay vínculos que crecen en la conversación, otros en el silencio, y otros simplemente en saber que están ahí.

Todo lo demás es ruido.

Este es el mapa que hoy me funciona.

Si el tuyo se dibuja distinto, o si algo de esto te hizo pensar, puedes escribirme. Las buenas conversaciones no siempre empiezan hablando.

Envíame tu comentario, lo leeré con calma→ https://tally.so/r/2EEedb

Fond d'orange badigeon sur la toile qui chute entre du vert et la grisaille des troncs, les cours odorant l'air pour l'office d'un rouge de palmiste et l'air qui nous soupente, accroche au ciel passé la vieille angoisse humaine, soi ne pouvant jamais soustraire ses rêves à ce qui vient. L'usure de la lumière gagne le bord des choses.

Nombre d’occurrences : 14

#VoyageauLexique

Dans ce deuxième Voyage au Lexique, je continue d’explorer, en me gardant de les exploiter, les mots de Ma vie au village (in Journal de la brousse endormie) dont le nombre d’occurrences est significatif.

There is something unsettling about Mark chapter three, and it is unsettling not because of the miracles or the confrontations with demons, but because of how ordinary the resistance to Jesus feels. The people pushing back against Him are not strangers. They are not outsiders. They are the religious leaders, His own family, and the crowds who already know His name. Mark does not present opposition as loud or dramatic at first. He shows it emerging quietly, almost politely, through suspicion, rigidity, and wounded pride. That is what makes this chapter so confronting. It reveals how easily familiarity can turn into resistance, and how quickly certainty can harden into spiritual blindness.

Mark opens the chapter with Jesus returning to the synagogue on the Sabbath, a place meant for worship, rest, and reverence. There is a man there with a withered hand, and immediately the tension is clear. The religious leaders are watching Jesus closely, not to learn from Him, but to catch Him. Their eyes are not fixed on the suffering man. They are fixed on the rulebook. The tragedy of this moment is not merely that they oppose healing on the Sabbath, but that they have become so devoted to protecting their interpretation of the law that they can no longer recognize the heart of God standing in front of them.

Jesus does not heal impulsively. He pauses. He asks a question that cuts straight to the core: “Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath days, or to do evil? To save life, or to kill?” The silence that follows is deafening. They do not answer Him, not because they do not know the truth, but because the truth threatens their authority. Mark tells us that Jesus looks at them with anger, grieved at the hardness of their hearts. That word matters. He is not merely frustrated. He is grieved. Their rigidity is not just an intellectual problem; it is a heart problem. The Sabbath, intended as a gift, has become a weapon, and compassion has been replaced with control.

When Jesus heals the man, the response is immediate and chilling. The Pharisees go out and begin plotting with the Herodians on how they might destroy Him. Think about that progression. Healing leads to conspiracy. Mercy leads to murderous intent. Mark is showing us something vital here: when religious systems become more invested in preserving power than reflecting God’s character, they will always perceive compassion as a threat. The problem is not Jesus’ actions. The problem is that He exposes how far their priorities have drifted from God’s heart.

As Jesus withdraws to the sea, the crowds follow Him in overwhelming numbers. People come from Galilee, Judea, Jerusalem, Idumaea, beyond the Jordan, Tyre, and Sidon. Mark emphasizes the scope of this moment. Jesus’ reputation has spread far beyond religious centers. He is not confined to synagogues or controlled spaces. People with afflictions press in, desperate just to touch Him. Even unclean spirits fall before Him, crying out that He is the Son of God. Ironically, demons recognize His identity while many religious leaders refuse to. Yet Jesus silences the spirits. He does not accept their testimony. His mission will not be defined by chaos, spectacle, or fear.

This moment reveals another layer of resistance. The crowds want healing, relief, and power, but not necessarily transformation. Jesus is careful not to let excitement replace obedience. He is not building a fan base; He is forming disciples. That becomes clear when He goes up into a mountain and calls those He wants to Himself. This is not a democratic process. He does not ask for volunteers. He summons them. Mark says He appoints twelve “that they should be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach, and to have power to heal sicknesses, and to cast out devils.” The order is critical. Being with Him comes before doing anything for Him. Authority flows from relationship, not ambition.

The names of the twelve are familiar, but their ordinariness is easy to overlook. Fishermen, a tax collector, men with temperaments and histories that would never pass a modern vetting process. Jesus does not choose them because they are impressive. He chooses them because they are willing to be formed. Even Judas Iscariot, who will betray Him, is included. That alone should challenge our assumptions about calling and perfection. Jesus knows what is in Judas’ heart, yet He still invites him into proximity. This does not excuse betrayal, but it reminds us that proximity to Jesus does not automatically produce transformation. That requires surrender.

After appointing the twelve, Jesus returns to a house, and once again the crowds press in so heavily that He and His disciples cannot even eat. This detail matters. Ministry, even when holy, can be exhausting. The demands are relentless. There is no romanticized version of service here. And it is at this point that His own family intervenes. They hear what is happening and go out to restrain Him, saying, “He is beside himself.” Let that settle. The people who knew Him best growing up believe He has lost His mind.

This is one of the most painful moments in the chapter. Opposition does not always come from enemies. Sometimes it comes from those who love us, who remember who we used to be, and who struggle to reconcile that memory with who God is calling us to become. Jesus’ family is not malicious. They are concerned. But concern can still become resistance when it attempts to control what God is doing. Familiarity can make it difficult to accept divine calling, especially when it disrupts expectations.

The tension escalates when scribes from Jerusalem arrive, declaring that Jesus is possessed by Beelzebub and casts out demons by the power of the prince of devils. This accusation is not ignorant. It is calculated. They cannot deny His power, so they attempt to redefine its source. This is a crucial turning point in the chapter. Jesus responds with logic and authority, explaining that a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. Satan casting out Satan would be self-defeating. His power, Jesus explains, comes from binding the strong man, not partnering with him.

Then Jesus speaks one of the most sobering warnings in all of Scripture: the warning about blasphemy against the Holy Ghost. He makes it clear that all sins can be forgiven, but attributing the work of the Holy Spirit to evil places a person in a dangerous spiritual position. This is not about saying the wrong words in a moment of fear. It is about persistent, willful rejection of truth, even when that truth is undeniable. The scribes are not confused. They are hardened. They see the light and call it darkness because accepting it would dismantle their authority.

This warning is not meant to produce fear in sincere hearts. It is meant to expose the danger of pride disguised as discernment. When people become so convinced they are right that they cannot recognize God’s work unless it fits their framework, they risk resisting the very Spirit they claim to serve. Mark is not writing theology in abstraction. He is recording a real confrontation with eternal implications.

The chapter closes with a scene that redefines belonging. Jesus is told that His mother and brothers are outside, seeking Him. He looks at those sitting around Him and says, “Behold my mother and my brethren. For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother.” This is not a rejection of His family. It is a reordering of allegiance. Obedience, not bloodline, defines kinship in the kingdom of God.

This statement would have been shocking in a culture built around family identity. Yet it is also profoundly inviting. It means that no one is excluded from belonging because of their past, their status, or their lineage. But it also means that proximity without obedience is insufficient. Sitting near Jesus does not automatically place someone in alignment with Him. Doing the will of God does.

Mark chapter three exposes the subtle ways people resist Jesus while believing they are faithful. It challenges the assumption that opposition always looks hostile. Sometimes it looks like silence. Sometimes it looks like concern. Sometimes it looks like theological certainty. And sometimes it looks like familiarity that refuses to let God do something new.

This chapter asks uncomfortable questions. Are we more concerned with rules than restoration? Do we value control more than compassion? Are we willing to follow Jesus beyond what feels familiar or safe? And perhaps most importantly, are we open to the Spirit’s work even when it disrupts our assumptions?

Mark 3 does not offer easy answers, but he offers clarity. Jesus does not adjust His mission to accommodate hardened hearts. He continues healing, calling, teaching, and redefining what it means to belong. The invitation remains open, but it demands humility. To follow Him is not simply to admire His power, but to surrender our need to control how and where He works.

If Mark chapter three stopped with Jesus redefining family, it would already be unsettling enough. But the weight of this chapter lingers because it forces us to confront something deeper than opposition from others. It confronts the ways we ourselves can stand close to Jesus while quietly resisting His authority. In part one, we saw resistance come from religious leaders, crowds, and even family. In this second half, Mark presses the reader to examine allegiance, identity, and the cost of remaining spiritually comfortable.

One of the most striking features of Mark’s Gospel is how little space he gives to explanation. He does not pause to soften Jesus’ words or contextualize them for emotional comfort. He simply records what happened. And what happens in Mark 3 is a collision between authority and assumption. Jesus does not merely teach new ideas; He claims the right to redefine reality itself. That is why the tension escalates so quickly. The issue is never just healing on the Sabbath or casting out demons. The issue is who gets to say what God is like.

Throughout the chapter, Jesus quietly asserts divine authority without ever announcing it in dramatic terms. He does not begin with declarations of power. He begins by restoring a withered hand. He begins by calling ordinary men to Himself. He begins by healing the afflicted and silencing demons. Authority, in Mark 3, is demonstrated through restoration, not domination. That is precisely what makes it threatening. It exposes authority that cannot be controlled, negotiated, or institutionalized.

This is where modern readers often miss the point. We are tempted to place ourselves automatically on the side of Jesus in the story, assuming we would have recognized Him if we had been there. But Mark does not allow that comfort. He shows that the people who resisted Jesus were not villains in their own minds. They believed they were defending God, protecting truth, and preserving righteousness. That is the most dangerous form of resistance: the kind that believes it is faithful.

The scribes’ accusation that Jesus operates by the power of Beelzebub reveals something deeply human. When confronted with undeniable evidence that challenges our worldview, we often choose reinterpretation over repentance. The scribes could not deny the miracles, so they redefined their source. This is not ancient behavior. It happens whenever people see lives changed, chains broken, and compassion extended in ways that do not fit their expectations. Rather than ask whether God might be at work, they question the legitimacy of the work itself.

Jesus’ warning about blasphemy against the Holy Spirit must be understood in this light. It is not a threat aimed at the fearful or the doubting. It is a mirror held up to hardened certainty. When someone repeatedly attributes God’s work to evil because acknowledging it would require surrender, they place themselves in spiritual peril. Forgiveness requires repentance, and repentance requires honesty. A heart that refuses to name light as light cannot receive what it refuses to recognize.

This warning should not terrify sincere believers, but it should sober confident ones. There is a difference between discernment and dismissal. Discernment tests spirits with humility and prayer. Dismissal assumes authority without listening. Mark 3 reminds us that proximity to Scripture, tradition, or religious roles does not immunize anyone against hardness of heart. In fact, those things can sometimes reinforce it.

Another overlooked theme in this chapter is exhaustion. Mark repeatedly mentions crowds pressing in, demands escalating, and Jesus having no space even to eat. Ministry is not portrayed as glamorous. It is portrayed as draining. This matters because exhaustion often reveals what we truly believe. When tired, people revert to instinct. The religious leaders revert to control. The crowds revert to consumption. Jesus, however, retreats to prayer, calls disciples, and remains anchored in His mission.

The calling of the twelve sits at the center of the chapter for a reason. It is the counterpoint to chaos. While opposition grows louder, Jesus quietly builds something lasting. He does not respond to resistance by debating endlessly or performing greater spectacles. He responds by forming people. This is a pattern worth noticing. Transformation happens through proximity and obedience, not argument. The twelve are not chosen to win debates but to carry authority shaped by being with Him.

That phrase “that they should be with him” deserves slow reflection. Before preaching. Before healing. Before casting out demons. They are called to be with Him. In a world obsessed with output, this order feels backward. But Mark insists on it. Authority without intimacy becomes abuse. Power without presence becomes dangerous. Jesus builds a community grounded in relationship before responsibility.

This makes the closing scene of the chapter even more profound. When Jesus redefines family as those who do the will of God, He is not creating emotional distance. He is creating spiritual clarity. Belonging in the kingdom is not inherited; it is practiced. Obedience is not about rule-following but alignment. Doing the will of God means trusting Him enough to follow even when it disrupts expectations, relationships, and comfort.

For modern readers, this raises difficult questions. What happens when obedience to Jesus creates misunderstanding with those closest to us? What happens when faith disrupts family narratives, cultural expectations, or religious traditions? Mark 3 does not offer sentimental reassurance. It offers truth. Jesus does not promise that following Him will preserve every relationship unchanged. He promises that obedience will redefine belonging.

This is not a rejection of family, tradition, or structure. It is a warning against placing any of those above God’s call. When familiarity becomes the measure of truth, growth becomes impossible. When comfort becomes the standard of faithfulness, transformation stalls. Mark 3 exposes how easily good things can become obstacles when they are no longer surrendered.

The chapter also forces us to consider how we respond to authority that does not flatter us. Jesus does not seek approval. He does not soften His message to retain crowds. He does not apologize for disrupting expectations. His authority is rooted in truth, not acceptance. That kind of authority is unsettling because it cannot be controlled. It demands response.

Mark’s Gospel was written for a community experiencing pressure, persecution, and confusion about what it meant to follow Jesus faithfully. Mark 3 would have spoken directly into their reality. It would have reminded them that resistance often comes from within religious systems, that belonging requires obedience, and that the cost of discipleship includes misunderstanding and loss. But it also would have offered assurance: Jesus remains steady. His mission does not waver. His authority does not diminish because of opposition.

In many ways, Mark 3 is a diagnostic chapter. It reveals where hearts are aligned and where they are resistant. It shows that people can admire Jesus’ power while rejecting His authority. It warns that religious certainty can become a shield against transformation. And it invites readers into a deeper question: not whether Jesus is powerful, but whether we are willing to submit to what that power reveals about us.

The chapter ends without resolution because the choice remains open. Some will continue plotting. Some will continue pressing for miracles. Some will follow and be formed. Mark leaves the reader standing in the room with Jesus, surrounded by voices calling from outside, expectations pulling from every direction, and a simple but costly invitation at the center: do the will of God.

That invitation still stands. Not as a demand for perfection, but as a call to surrender. Not as a rejection of who we are, but as an invitation to become who God intends us to be. Mark 3 does not allow passive faith. It demands decision. And in that demand, it offers something far greater than comfort: it offers belonging rooted in obedience, authority shaped by love, and a life aligned with the heart of God.

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee

Spoke too soon: Awoke at 3:00am for no apparent reason, so decided to burn the night oil and continue work on the Ganzeer.com update.

It's mostly organizational: Editing work categories and adding new ones, and shuffling projects around and fixing metadata, that sort of thing. Not fun, but should hopefully result in a web presence that makes better sense.

I did however come across a couple dusty external hard-drives that hold a treasure trove of olden works, including documentation of the first publication I ever put together: 8x8!

Won't get around to populating the website with most of that old stuff till I'm done with organizing what's already on there first. I reckon I'll probably crash by sunrise and have to make an attempt to recalibrate my body's circadian rhythms once again over the days to come.

#journal #work

In February 2025, artificial intelligence researcher Andrej Karpathy, co-founder of OpenAI and former AI leader at Tesla, posted a provocative observation on social media. “There's a new kind of coding I call 'vibe coding',” he wrote, “where you fully give in to the vibes, embrace exponentials, and forget that the code even exists.” By November of that year, Collins Dictionary had named “vibe coding” its Word of the Year, recognising how the term had come to encapsulate a fundamental shift in humanity's relationship with technology. As Alex Beecroft, managing director of Collins, explained: “The selection of 'vibe coding' as Collins' Word of the Year perfectly captures how language is evolving alongside technology.”

The concept is beguilingly simple. Rather than writing code line by line, users describe what they want in plain English, and large language models generate the software. Karpathy himself described the workflow with disarming candour: “I just talk to Composer with SuperWhisper so I barely even touch the keyboard. I ask for the dumbest things like 'decrease the padding on the sidebar by half' because I'm too lazy to find it. I 'Accept All' always, I don't read the diffs anymore.” Or, as he put it more succinctly: “The hottest new programming language is English.”

For newsrooms, this represents both an extraordinary opportunity and a profound challenge. The Generative AI in the Newsroom project, a collaborative effort examining when and how to use generative AI in news production, has been tracking these developments closely. Their assessment suggests that 2026's most significant newsroom innovation will not emerge from development teams but from journalists who can now create their own tools. The democratisation of software development promises to unlock creativity and efficiency at unprecedented scale. But it also threatens to expose news organisations to security vulnerabilities, regulatory violations, and ethical failures that could undermine public trust in an industry already battling credibility challenges.

The stakes could hardly be higher. Journalism occupies a unique position in the information ecosystem, serving as a watchdog on power while simultaneously handling some of society's most sensitive information. From whistleblower communications to investigative documents, from source identities to personal data about vulnerable individuals, newsrooms are custodians of material that demands the highest standards of protection. When the barriers to building software tools collapse, the question becomes urgent: how do organisations ensure that the enthusiasm of newly empowered creators does not inadvertently compromise the very foundations of trustworthy journalism?

The Democratisation Revolution

Kerry Oslund, vice president of AI strategy at The E.W. Scripps Company, captured the zeitgeist at a recent industry panel when he declared: “This is the revenge of the English major.” His observation points to a fundamental inversion of traditional power structures in newsrooms. For decades, journalists with story ideas requiring custom tools had to queue for limited development resources, often watching their visions wither in backlogs or emerge months later in compromised form. Vibe coding tools like Lovable, Claude, Bubble AI, and Base44 have shattered that dependency.

The practical implications are already visible. At Scripps, the organisation has deployed over 300 AI “agents” handling complex tasks that once required significant human oversight. Oslund described “agent swarms” where multiple AI agents pass tasks to one another, compiling weekly reports, summarising deltas, and building executive dashboards without human intervention until the final review. The cost savings are tangible: “We eliminated all third-party voice actors and now use synthetic voice with our own talent,” Oslund revealed at a TV News Check panel.

During the same industry gathering, leaders from Gray Media, Reuters, and Stringr discussed similar developments. Gray Media is using AI to increase human efficiency in newsrooms, allowing staff to focus on higher-value journalism while automated systems handle routine tasks.

For community journalism, the potential is even more transformative. The Nieman Journalism Lab's predictions for 2026 emphasise how vibe coding tools have lowered the cost and technical expertise required to build prototypes, creating space for community journalists to experiment with new roles and collaborate with AI specialists. By translating their understanding of audience needs into tangible prototypes, journalists can instruct large language models on the appearance, features, and data sources they require for new tools.

One prominent data journalist, quoted in coverage of the vibe coding phenomenon, expressed the reaction of many practitioners: “Oh my God, this vibe coding thing is insane. If I had this during our early interactive news days, it would have been a godsend. Once you get the hang of it, it's like magic.”

But magic, as any journalist knows, demands scrutiny. As programmer Simon Willison clarified in his analysis: “If an LLM wrote every line of your code, but you've reviewed, tested, and understood it all, that's not vibe coding in my book. That's using an LLM as a typing assistant.” The distinction matters enormously. True vibe coding, where users accept AI-generated code without fully comprehending its functionality, introduces risks that newsrooms must confront directly.

The Security Imperative and Shadow AI

The IBM 2025 Cost of Data Breach Report revealed statistics that should alarm every news organisation considering rapid AI tool adoption. Thirteen percent of organisations reported breaches of AI models or applications, and of those compromised, a staggering 97% reported lacking AI access controls. Perhaps most troubling: one in five organisations reported breaches due to shadow AI, the unsanctioned use of AI tools by employees outside approved governance frameworks.

The concept of shadow AI represents an evolution of the “shadow IT” problem that has plagued organisations for decades. As researchers documented in Strategic Change journal, the progression from shadow IT to shadow AI introduces new threat vectors. AI systems possess intrinsic security vulnerabilities, from the potential compromising of training data to the exploitation of AI models and networks. When employees use AI tools without organisational oversight, these vulnerabilities multiply.

For newsrooms, the stakes are uniquely high. Journalists routinely handle information that could endanger lives if exposed: confidential sources, whistleblower identities, leaked documents revealing government or corporate malfeasance. The 2014 Sony Pictures hack demonstrated how devastating breaches can be, with hackers releasing salaries of employees and Hollywood executives alongside sensitive email traffic. Data breaches in media organisations are particularly attractive to malicious actors because they often contain not just personal information but intelligence with political or financial value.

The Gartner research firm predicts that by 2027, more than 40% of AI-related data breaches will be caused by improper use of generative AI across borders. The swift adoption of generative AI technologies by end users has outpaced the development of data governance and security measures. According to the Cloud Security Alliance, only 57% of organisations have acceptable use policies for AI tools, and fewer still have implemented access controls for AI agents and models, activity logging and auditing, or identity governance for AI entities.

The media industry's particular vulnerability compounds these concerns. As authentication provider Auth0 documented in an analysis of major data breaches affecting media companies: “Data breaches have become commonplace, and the media industry is notorious for being a magnet for cyberthieves.” With billions of users consuming news online, the attack surface for criminals continues to expand. Media companies frequently rely on external vendors, making it difficult to track third-party security practices even when internal processes are robust.

Liability in the Age of AI-Generated Code

When software fails, who bears responsibility? This question becomes extraordinarily complex when the code was generated by an AI and deployed by someone with no formal engineering training. The legal landscape remains unsettled, but concerning patterns are emerging.

Traditional negligence and product liability principles still apply, but courts have yet to clarify how responsibility should be apportioned between AI tool developers and the organisations utilising these tools. Most AI providers prominently display warnings such as “AI can make mistakes and verify the output” while including warranty disclaimers that push due diligence burdens back onto the businesses integrating AI-generated code. The RAND Corporation's analysis of liability for AI system harms notes that “AI developers might also be held liable for malpractice should courts find there to be a recognised professional standard of care that a developer then violated.”

Copyright and intellectual property considerations add further complexity. In the United States, copyright protection hinges on human authorship. Both case law and the U.S. Copyright Office agree that copyright protection is available only for works created through human creativity. When code is produced solely by an AI without meaningful human authorship, it is not eligible for copyright protection.

Analysis by the Software Freedom Conservancy found that approximately 35% of AI-generated code samples contained licensing irregularities, potentially exposing organisations to significant legal liabilities. This “licence contamination” problem has already forced several high-profile product delays and at least two complete codebase rewrites at major corporations. In the United States, a lawsuit against GitHub Copilot (Doe v. GitHub, Inc.) argues that the tool suggests code without including necessary licence attributions. As of spring 2025, litigation continued.

For news organisations, the implications extend beyond licensing. In journalism, tools frequently interact with personal data protected under frameworks like the General Data Protection Regulation. Article 85 of the GDPR requires Member States to adopt exemptions balancing data protection with freedom of expression, but these exemptions are not blanket protections. The Austrian Constitutional Court declared the Austrian journalistic exemption unconstitutional, ruling that it was illegitimate to entirely exclude media data processing from data protection provisions. When Romanian journalists published videos and documents for an investigation, the data protection authority asked for information that could reveal sources, under threat of penalties reaching 20 million euros.

A tool built through vibe coding that inadvertently logs source communications or retains metadata could expose a news organisation to regulatory action and, more critically, endanger the individuals who trusted journalists with sensitive information.

Protecting Vulnerable Populations and Investigative Workflows

Investigative journalism depends on systems of trust that have been carefully constructed over decades. Sources risk their careers, freedom, and sometimes lives to expose wrongdoing. The Global Investigative Journalism Network's guidance emphasises that “most of the time, sources or whistleblowers do not understand the risks they might be taking. Journalists should help them understand this, so they are fully aware of how publication of the information they have given could impact them.”

Digital security has become integral to this protective framework. SecureDrop, an open-source platform for operating whistleblowing systems, has become standard in newsrooms committed to source protection. Encrypted messaging applications like Signal offer end-to-end protection. These tools emerged from years of security research and have been vetted by experts who understand both the technical vulnerabilities and the human factors that can compromise even robust systems.

When a journalist vibe codes a tool for an investigation, they may inadvertently undermine these protections without recognising the risk. As journalist James Risen of The Intercept observed: “We're being forced to act like spies, having to learn tradecraft and encryption and all the new ways to protect sources. So, there's going to be a time when you might make a mistake or do something that might not perfectly protect a source. This is really hard work.”

The Perugia Principles for Journalists, developed in partnership with 20 international journalists and experts, establish twelve principles for working with whistleblowers in the digital age. First among them: “First, protect your sources. Defend anonymity when it is requested. Provide safe ways for sources to make 'first contact' with you, where possible.” A vibe-coded tool, built without understanding of metadata, logging, or network traffic patterns, could create exactly the kind of traceable communication channel that puts sources at risk.

Research from the Center for News, Technology and Innovation documents how digital security threats have become more important than ever for global news media. Journalists and publishers have become high-profile targets for malware, spyware, and digital surveillance. These threats risk physical safety, privacy, and mental health while undermining whistleblower protection and source confidentiality.

The resource disparity across the industry compounds these challenges. News organisations in wealthier settings are generally better resourced and more able to adopt protective technologies. Smaller, independent, and freelance journalists often lack the means to defend against threats. Vibe coding might seem to level this playing field by enabling under-resourced journalists to build their own tools, but without security expertise, it may instead expose them to greater risk.

Governance Frameworks for Editorial and Technical Leadership

The challenge for news organisations is constructing governance frameworks that capture the benefits of democratised development while mitigating its risks. Research on AI guidelines and policies from 52 media organisations worldwide, analysed by journalism researchers and published through Journalist's Resource, offers insights into emerging best practices.

The findings emphasise the need for human oversight throughout AI-assisted processes. As peer-reviewed analysis notes: “The maintenance of a 'human-in-the-loop' principle, where human judgment, creativity, and editorial oversight remain central to the journalistic process, is vital.” The Guardian requires senior editor approval for significant AI-generated content. The CBC has committed not to use AI-powered identification tools for investigative journalism without proper permissions.

The NIST AI Risk Management Framework provides a structured approach applicable to newsroom contexts. It guides organisations through four repeatable actions: identifying how AI systems are used and where risks may appear (Map), evaluating risks using defined metrics (Measure), applying controls to mitigate risks (Manage), and establishing oversight structures to ensure accountability (Govern). The accompanying AI RMF Playbook offers practical guidance that organisations can adapt to their specific needs.

MIT Sloan researchers have proposed a “traffic light” framework for categorising AI use cases by risk level. Red-light use cases are prohibited entirely. Green-light use cases, such as chatbots for general customer service, present low risk and can proceed with minimal oversight. Yellow-light use cases, which comprise most AI applications, require enhanced review and human judgment at critical decision points.

For newsrooms, this framework might translate as follows:

Green-light applications might include internal productivity tools, calendar management systems, or draft headline generators where errors create inconvenience rather than harm.

Yellow-light applications would encompass data visualisations for publication, interactive features using public datasets, and transcription tools for interviews with non-sensitive subjects. These require review by someone with technical competence before deployment.

Red-light applications would include anything touching source communications, whistleblower data, investigative documents, or personal information about vulnerable individuals. These should require professional engineering oversight and security review regardless of how they were initially prototyped.

Building Decision Trees for Non-Technical Staff

Operationalising these distinctions requires clear decision frameworks that non-technical staff can apply independently. The Poynter Institute's guidance on newsroom AI ethics policies emphasises the need for organisations to create AI committees and designate senior staff to lead ongoing governance efforts. “This step is critical because the technology is going to evolve, the tools are going to multiply and the policy will not keep up unless it is routinely revised.”

A practical decision tree for vibe-coded projects might begin with a series of questions:

First, does this tool handle any data that is not already public? If so, escalate to technical review.

Second, could a malfunction in this tool result in publication of incorrect information, exposure of source identity, or violation of individual privacy? If yes, professional engineering oversight is required.

Third, will this tool be used by anyone other than its creator, or persist beyond a single use? Shared tools and long-term deployments require enhanced scrutiny.

Fourth, does this tool connect to external services, databases, or APIs? External connections introduce security considerations that require expert evaluation.

Fifth, would failure of this tool create legal liability, regulatory exposure, or reputational damage? Legal and compliance review should accompany technical review for such applications.

The Cloud Security Alliance's Capabilities-Based Risk Assessment framework offers additional granularity, suggesting that organisations apply proportional safeguards based on risk classification. Low-risk AI applications receive lightweight controls, medium-risk applications get enhanced monitoring, and high-risk applications require full-scale governance including regular audits.

Bridging the Skills Gap Without Sacrificing Speed

The tension at the heart of vibe coding governance is balancing accessibility against accountability. The speed and democratisation that make vibe coding attractive would be undermined by bureaucratic review processes that reimpose the old bottlenecks. Yet the alternative, allowing untrained staff to deploy tools handling sensitive information, creates unacceptable risks.

Several approaches can help navigate this tension.

Tiered review processes can match the intensity of oversight to the risk level of the application. Simple internal tools might require only a checklist review by the creator themselves. Published tools or those handling non-public data might need peer review by a designated “AI champion” with intermediate technical knowledge. Tools touching sensitive information would require full security review by qualified professionals.

Pre-approved templates and components can provide guardrails that reduce the scope for dangerous errors. News organisations can work with their development teams to create vetted building blocks: secure form handlers, properly configured database connections, privacy-compliant analytics modules. Journalists can be directed to incorporate these components rather than generating equivalent functionality from scratch.

Sandboxed development environments can allow experimentation without production risk. Vibe-coded prototypes can be tested and evaluated in isolated environments before any decision about broader deployment. This preserves the creative freedom that makes vibe coding valuable while creating a checkpoint before tools reach users or sensitive data.

Mandatory training programmes should ensure that all staff using vibe coding tools understand basic security concepts, data handling requirements, and the limitations of AI-generated code. This training need not make everyone a programmer, but it should cultivate healthy scepticism about what AI tools produce and awareness of the questions to ask before deployment.

The Emerging Regulatory Landscape

News organisations cannot develop governance frameworks in isolation from the broader regulatory environment. The European Union's AI Act, adopted in 2024, establishes requirements that will affect media organisations using AI tools. While journalism itself is not classified as high-risk under the Act, AI systems used in media that could manipulate public opinion or spread disinformation face stricter oversight. AI-generated content, including synthetic media, must be clearly labelled.

The Dynamic Coalition on the Sustainability of Journalism and News Media released its 2024-2025 Annual Report on AI and Journalism, calling for shared strategies to safeguard journalism's integrity in an AI-driven world. The report urges decision-makers to “move beyond reactive policy-making and invest in forward-looking frameworks that place human rights, media freedom, and digital inclusion at the centre of AI governance.”

In the United States, the regulatory landscape is more fragmented. More than 1,000 AI-related bills have been introduced across state legislatures in 2024-2025. California, Colorado, New York, and Illinois have adopted or proposed comprehensive AI and algorithmic accountability laws addressing transparency, bias mitigation, and sector-specific safeguards. News organisations operating across multiple jurisdictions must navigate a patchwork of requirements.

The Center for News, Technology and Innovation's review of 188 national and regional AI strategies found that regulatory attempts rarely directly address journalism and vary dramatically in their frameworks, enforcement capacity, and international coordination. This uncertainty places additional burden on news organisations to develop robust internal governance rather than relying on external regulatory guidance.

Cultural Transformation and Organisational Learning

Technical governance alone cannot address the challenges of democratised development. Organisations must cultivate cultures that balance innovation with responsibility.

IBM's research on shadow AI governance emphasises that employees should be “encouraged to disclose how they use AI, confident that transparency will be met with guidance, not punishment. Leadership, in turn, should celebrate responsible experimentation as part of organisational learning.” Punitive approaches to unsanctioned AI use tend to drive it underground, where it becomes invisible to governance processes.

News organisations have particular cultural advantages in addressing these challenges. Journalism is built on verification, scepticism, and accountability. The same instincts that lead journalists to question official sources and demand evidence should be directed at AI-generated outputs. Newsroom cultures that emphasise “trust but verify” can extend this principle to tools and code as readily as to sources and documents.

The Scripps approach, which Oslund described as starting with “guardrails and guidelines to prevent missteps,” offers a model. “It all starts with public trust,” Oslund emphasised, noting Scripps' commitment to accuracy and human oversight of AI outputs. Embedding AI governance within broader commitments to editorial integrity may prove more effective than treating it as a separate technical concern.

The Accountability Question

When something goes wrong with a vibe-coded tool, who is responsible? This question resists easy answers but demands organisational clarity.

The journalist who created the tool bears some responsibility, but their liability should be proportional to what they could reasonably have been expected to understand. An editor who approved deployment shares accountability, as does any technical reviewer who cleared the tool. The organisation itself, having enabled vibe coding without adequate governance, may bear ultimate responsibility.

Clear documentation of decision-making processes becomes essential. When a tool is deployed, records should capture: who created it, what review it received, who approved it, what data it handles, and what risk assessment was performed. This documentation serves both as a protection against liability and as a learning resource when problems occur.

As professional standards for AI governance in journalism emerge, organisations that ignore them may face enhanced liability exposure. The development of industry norms creates benchmarks against which organisational practices will be measured.

Recommendations for News Organisations

Based on the analysis above, several concrete recommendations emerge for news organisations navigating the vibe coding revolution.

Establish clear acceptable use policies for AI development tools, distinguishing between permitted, restricted, and prohibited use cases. Make these policies accessible and understandable to non-technical staff.

Create tiered review processes that match oversight intensity to risk level. Not every vibe-coded tool needs security audit, but those handling sensitive data or reaching public audiences require appropriate scrutiny.

Designate AI governance leadership within the organisation, whether through an AI committee, a senior editor with oversight responsibility, or a dedicated role. This leadership should have authority to pause or prohibit deployments that present unacceptable risk.

Invest in training that builds basic security awareness and AI literacy across editorial staff. Training should emphasise the limitations of AI-generated code and the questions to ask before deployment.

Develop pre-approved components for common functionality, allowing vibe coders to build on vetted foundations rather than generating security-sensitive code from scratch.

Implement sandbox environments for development and testing, creating separation between experimentation and production systems handling real data.

Maintain documentation of all AI tool deployments, including creation, review, approval, and risk assessment records.

Conduct regular audits of deployed tools, recognising that AI-generated code may contain latent vulnerabilities that only become apparent over time.

Engage with regulatory developments at national and international levels, ensuring that internal governance anticipates rather than merely reacts to legal requirements.

Foster cultural change that treats AI governance as an extension of editorial integrity rather than a constraint on innovation.

Navigating the New Landscape

Vibe coding represents neither utopia nor dystopia for newsrooms. It is a powerful capability that, like any technology, will be shaped by the choices organisations make about its use. The democratisation of software development can expand what journalism is capable of achieving, empowering practitioners to create tools tailored to their specific needs and audiences. But this empowerment carries responsibility.

The distinction between appropriate prototyping and situations requiring professional engineering oversight is not always obvious. Decision frameworks and governance structures can operationalise this distinction, but they require ongoing refinement as technology evolves and organisational learning accumulates. Liability, compliance, and ethical accountability gaps are real, particularly where published tools interface with sensitive data, vulnerable populations, or investigative workflows.

Editorial and technical leadership must work together to ensure that speed and accessibility gains do not inadvertently expose organisations to data breaches, regulatory violations, or reputational damage. The journalists building tools through vibe coding are not the enemy; they are practitioners seeking to serve their audiences and advance their craft. But good intentions are insufficient protection against technical vulnerabilities or regulatory requirements.

As the Generative AI in the Newsroom project observes, the goal is “collaboratively figuring out how and when (or when not) to use generative AI in news production.” That collaborative spirit, extending across editorial and technical domains, offers the best path forward. Newsrooms that get this balance right will harness vibe coding's transformative potential while maintaining the trust that makes journalism possible. Those that do not may find that the magic of democratised development comes with costs their organisations, their sources, and their audiences cannot afford.

---

References and Sources

1. Karpathy, A. (2025). “Vibe Coding.” X (formerly Twitter). https://x.com/karpathy/status/1886192184808149383

2. Collins Dictionary. (2025). “Word of the Year 2025: Vibe Coding.” https://www.collinsdictionary.com/us/woty

3. CNN. (2025). “'Vibe coding' named Collins Dictionary's Word of the Year.” https://www.cnn.com/2025/11/06/tech/vibe-coding-collins-word-year-scli-intl

4. Generative AI in the Newsroom. (2025). “Vibe Coding for Newsrooms.” https://generative-ai-newsroom.com/vibe-coding-for-newsrooms-6848b17dac99

5. Nieman Journalism Lab. (2025). “Rise of the vibecoding journalists.” https://www.niemanlab.org/2025/12/rise-of-the-vibecoding-journalists/

6. TV News Check. (2025). “Agent Swarms And Vibe Coding: Inside The New Operational Reality Of The Newsroom.” https://tvnewscheck.com/ai/article/agent-swarms-and-vibe-coding-inside-the-new-operational-reality-of-the-newsroom/

7. The E.W. Scripps Company. (2024). “Scripps creates AI team to lead strategy, business development and operations across company.” https://scripps.com/press-releases/scripps-creates-ai-team-to-lead-strategy-business-development-and-operations-across-company/

8. IBM Newsroom. (2025). “IBM Report: 13% Of Organizations Reported Breaches Of AI Models Or Applications.” https://newsroom.ibm.com/2025-07-30-ibm-report-13-of-organizations-reported-breaches-of-ai-models-or-applications

9. Gartner. (2025). “Gartner Predicts 40% of AI Data Breaches Will Arise from Cross-Border GenAI Misuse by 2027.” https://www.gartner.com/en/newsroom/press-releases/2025-02-17-gartner-predicts-forty-percent-of-ai-data-breaches-will-arise-from-cross-border-genai-misuse-by-2027

10. Auth0. (2024). “11 of the Worst Data Breaches in Media.” https://auth0.com/blog/11-of-the-worst-data-breaches-in-media/

11. Threatrix. (2025). “Software Liability in 2025: AI-Generated Code Compliance & Regulatory Risks.” https://threatrix.io/blog/threatrix/software-liability-in-2025-ai-generated-code-compliance-regulatory-risks/

12. MBHB. (2025). “Navigating the Legal Landscape of AI-Generated Code: Ownership and Liability Challenges.” https://www.mbhb.com/intelligence/snippets/navigating-the-legal-landscape-of-ai-generated-code-ownership-and-liability-challenges/

13. European Data Journalism Network. (2024). “Data protection in journalism: a practical handbook.” https://datavis.europeandatajournalism.eu/obct/data-protection-handbook/gdpr-applied-to-journalism.html

14. Global Investigative Journalism Network. (2025). “Expert Advice to Keep Your Sources and Whistleblowers Safe.” https://gijn.org/stories/gijc25-tips-keep-sources-whistleblowers-safe/

15. Journalist's Resource. (2024). “Researchers compare AI policies and guidelines at 52 news organizations.” https://journalistsresource.org/home/generative-ai-policies-newsrooms/

16. SAGE Journals. (2024). “AI Ethics in Journalism (Studies): An Evolving Field Between Research and Practice.” https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/27523543241288818

17. Poynter Institute. (2024). “Your newsroom needs an AI ethics policy. Start here.” https://www.poynter.org/ethics-trust/2024/how-to-create-newsroom-artificial-intelligence-ethics-policy/

18. Center for News, Technology and Innovation. (2024). “Journalism's New Frontier: An Analysis of Global AI Policy Proposals and Their Impacts on Journalism.” https://cnti.org/reports/journalisms-new-frontier-an-analysis-of-global-ai-policy-proposals-and-their-impacts-on-journalism/

19. Media Rights Agenda. (2025). “DC-Journalism Launches 2024/2025 Annual Report on Artificial Intelligence, Journalism.” https://mediarightsagenda.org/dc-journalism-launches-2024-2025-annual-report-on-artificial-intelligence-journalism/

20. NIST. (2024). “AI Risk Management Framework.” https://www.nist.gov/itl/ai-risk-management-framework

21. Cloud Security Alliance. (2025). “Capabilities-Based AI Risk Assessment (CBRA) for AI Systems.” https://cloudsecurityalliance.org/artifacts/capabilities-based-risk-assessment-cbra-for-ai-systems

22. Palo Alto Networks. (2025). “What Is Shadow AI? How It Happens and What to Do About It.” https://www.paloaltonetworks.com/cyberpedia/what-is-shadow-ai

23. IBM. (2025). “What Is Shadow AI?” https://www.ibm.com/think/topics/shadow-ai

24. Help Net Security. (2025). “Shadow AI risk: Navigating the growing threat of ungoverned AI adoption.” https://www.helpnetsecurity.com/2025/11/12/delinea-shadow-ai-governance/

25. Wikipedia. (2025). “Vibe coding.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vibe_coding

26. Simon Willison. (2025). “Not all AI-assisted programming is vibe coding (but vibe coding rocks).” https://simonwillison.net/2025/Mar/19/vibe-coding/

27. RAND Corporation. (2024). “Liability for Harms from AI Systems: The Application of U.S. Tort Law.” https://www.rand.org/pubs/research_reports/RRA3243-4.html

28. Center for News, Technology and Innovation. (2024). “Journalists & Cyber Threats.” https://innovating.news/article/journalists-cyber-threats/

29. USC Center for Health Journalism. (2025). “An early AI pioneer shares how the 'vibe coding' revolution could reshape data journalism.” https://centerforhealthjournalism.org/our-work/insights/early-ai-pioneer-shares-how-vibe-coding-revolution-could-reshape-data-journalism

30. Wiley Online Library. (2024). “From Shadow IT to Shadow AI: Threats, Risks and Opportunities for Organizations.” Strategic Change. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/jsc.2682

31. U.S. Copyright Office. (2024). “Copyright and Artificial Intelligence.” https://www.copyright.gov/ai/

---

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

There are seasons in life when the hardest part is not the pain itself, but the silence that seems to surround it. You pray, but the words feel thin. You open Scripture, but it doesn’t move the way it once did. You look for reassurance, for warmth, for that familiar sense of closeness, and instead you are met with quiet. In those moments, a thought begins to form that feels both frightening and shameful: maybe God has stepped away. Maybe you’ve been left alone. This is not a new fear, and it is not a sign that something has gone wrong with your faith. It is one of the most human experiences a believer can have, and it is also one of the most misunderstood.

Feeling abandoned by God is not the same thing as being abandoned by God. Those two realities can feel identical from the inside, but they are profoundly different in truth. Feelings tell us something important about our inner state, but they do not always tell us what is actually happening. Pain has a way of narrowing our vision, of making absence feel larger than presence, of convincing us that silence must mean distance. Yet throughout the story of faith, silence is often the place where the deepest work is happening.

One of the most damaging assumptions we make is that closeness to God should always feel comforting. We assume that if God is near, we will feel peace, clarity, and reassurance. But Scripture tells a more complex story. It shows us people who were deeply loved by God and yet walked through seasons of confusion, fear, grief, and doubt. It shows us that God’s presence is not always experienced as relief. Sometimes it is experienced as endurance. Sometimes it is experienced as being held steady when everything inside you wants to collapse.

There are moments when God feels far not because He has moved, but because our capacity to sense Him has been overwhelmed. Trauma, grief, anxiety, depression, exhaustion, and prolonged stress all affect how we experience reality. They narrow our emotional bandwidth. They mute our sense of connection. They make everything feel distant, including God. This does not mean your faith is weak. It means your nervous system is under strain. God does not disappear when your emotional world shuts down. He remains present even when you cannot feel Him.

One of the most dangerous lies whispered in these seasons is the idea that silence means rejection. That if God were truly with you, things would feel different. That if you were more faithful, more prayerful, more disciplined, you wouldn’t feel this way. This lie quietly turns suffering into self-accusation. It convinces people that their pain is evidence of failure rather than a normal part of being human in a broken world.

But faith was never meant to be measured by how consistently we feel God. If it were, faith would rise and fall with our moods, our circumstances, and our mental health. Faith is not an emotional state. It is a posture of trust. It is the decision to lean on what is true when what is felt is unstable.

Throughout Scripture, we see people who trusted God while feeling abandoned by Him. We see prayers that sound more like protests than praise. We see questions that are not neatly resolved. These are not censored or corrected. They are preserved. They are included because they reflect a faith that is honest enough to speak from the depths rather than perform from the surface.

There is something deeply important about understanding that God does not equate silence with absence. In human relationships, silence often signals withdrawal. When someone stops responding, it usually means they have disengaged. We project that same logic onto God, assuming that quiet must mean distance. But God is not bound by the limitations of human communication. He does not vanish when He is quiet. In fact, some of the most transformative moments in faith occur in silence, when there is nothing left to rely on but trust itself.

Consider how growth works beneath the surface. When a seed is planted, everything that matters happens underground. There is no visible progress. There is no reassurance. There is only darkness, pressure, and time. If growth depended on constant visibility, nothing would ever take root. In the same way, there are seasons in the life of faith where God’s work is hidden. Not absent, hidden. Not inactive, unseen. These are the seasons that feel like abandonment, but are often preparation.

We often assume that God’s love must feel warm to be real. Yet love does not always express itself through comfort. Sometimes love expresses itself through patience. Through restraint. Through allowing a person to grow strong enough to carry what they are becoming. God does not always intervene immediately because immediate relief is not always the deepest form of care. There are things that can only be formed in endurance, in waiting, in learning to stand when nothing is holding you up emotionally.

This is difficult to accept because everything in us wants relief now. We want clarity now. We want assurance now. We want God to speak loudly enough to drown out our fear. When that does not happen, we assume something has gone wrong. But there are seasons where God is not trying to soothe you. He is trying to strengthen you. Not by hardening your heart, but by deepening it.

Feeling spiritually numb is one of the most misunderstood experiences in the life of faith. People often interpret numbness as a sign of spiritual decline, as if their connection to God has weakened or disappeared. In reality, numbness is often a protective response. When pain becomes too intense, the mind and body create distance as a way to survive. This emotional distance does not sever your relationship with God. It simply changes how that relationship is experienced for a time.

God does not measure your faith by how inspired you feel. He measures it by your willingness to remain, even when inspiration is gone. There is a quiet courage in staying when everything in you feels empty. There is a deep faith in choosing not to walk away, even when you feel nothing pulling you forward. This kind of faith is rarely celebrated, but it is profoundly strong.

There is also a tendency to believe that if God were truly present, life would make more sense. That the confusion would clear. That the questions would resolve. Yet Scripture is full of unresolved tension. Faith does not eliminate mystery. It teaches us how to live within it. God does not owe us immediate understanding in order to remain faithful to us. His presence is not dependent on our comprehension.

One of the most painful aspects of feeling abandoned by God is the isolation it creates. People often feel ashamed of these feelings and hide them. They fear judgment. They fear being told to pray harder, believe more, or stop doubting. This isolation compounds the pain, making it feel as though not only God, but everyone else, is distant as well. But faith was never meant to be a solitary performance. It was meant to be a shared journey through both certainty and doubt.

There are moments when faith feels strong and expansive, and moments when it feels fragile and threadbare. Both belong to the same story. God is not more present in one than the other. He is present in both. The difference is not His nearness, but our awareness of it.

It is important to understand that God’s promises are not contingent on your emotional state. His commitment does not weaken when you are tired. His love does not flicker when you struggle. He does not withdraw because you are confused, angry, or afraid. If anything, these are the moments when His presence is most steady, even if it is least felt.

We often imagine abandonment as a dramatic event, a clear moment when someone leaves. But spiritual abandonment, as people experience it, is usually subtle. It feels like unanswered prayers. Like delays that stretch on too long. Like doors that remain closed without explanation. Like walking forward without any sense of direction. These experiences are deeply unsettling, but they are not evidence of being forsaken. They are evidence of being human in a world where faith is not always accompanied by clarity.

There is a difference between God withholding comfort and God withdrawing His presence. Comfort is a feeling. Presence is a reality. God may withhold comfort for a season without ever withdrawing His presence. This distinction matters because it reframes how we interpret our experience. Instead of asking, “Why has God left me?” we begin to ask, “What might God be forming in me here?”

This is not an easy shift. It requires patience. It requires humility. It requires the willingness to sit with questions that do not have immediate answers. But it also opens the door to a deeper, more resilient faith. A faith that does not depend on constant reassurance. A faith that can withstand silence without collapsing into despair.

Many people who have walked through seasons of spiritual dryness later describe them as turning points. Not because they were pleasant, but because they stripped away illusions. They learned that faith is not about feeling close to God all the time. It is about trusting His closeness even when it cannot be felt. They learned that God’s faithfulness is not proven by emotional highs, but by steady presence through emotional lows.

There is something profoundly honest about admitting that you feel abandoned by God. It requires vulnerability. It requires courage. It requires letting go of the image of faith as constant confidence. God does not reject this honesty. He meets it. He receives it. He is not threatened by your questions or disappointed by your struggle. He is not waiting for you to feel better before He draws near.

In fact, the very act of turning toward God with your sense of abandonment is itself an expression of faith. You would not ask where God is if you did not believe, at some level, that He is there. The question itself reveals a relationship that has not been severed. It reveals a heart that still longs for connection, even when it feels lost.

There are seasons where faith feels like walking through fog. You take one step at a time, unsure of what lies ahead, trusting that the ground will be there when your foot lands. This kind of faith is quiet. It does not announce itself. It does not look impressive. But it is strong. It is resilient. It is the kind of faith that endures.

Feeling abandoned by God does not mean you have been abandoned by God. It often means you are in a season where faith is being refined, stripped of dependency on feeling, and anchored more deeply in truth. These seasons are uncomfortable, but they are not pointless. They are shaping something that will outlast the emotions that dominate them.

In the next part, we will move deeper into what it means to live faithfully in these seasons, how to hold onto hope when feelings fail, and how to recognize God’s presence even when it seems hidden.

For now, it is enough to know this: you are not alone in feeling this way, and you are not alone in this season. God’s silence is not His absence. His quiet work continues, even when you cannot see or feel it.

There comes a point in these seasons—often quietly, without announcement—when you realize that faith has changed shape. It is no longer the bright certainty it once was. It is steadier now. Heavier. Quieter. It does not rush to conclusions or demand immediate answers. It simply stays. And staying, in a season where God feels absent, is one of the most faithful things a person can do.

We are conditioned to believe that growth must feel like progress. That transformation must feel uplifting. That if God is at work, we should sense momentum. But some of the deepest work God does happens when nothing feels like it’s moving at all. These are the seasons where faith is not fueled by inspiration, but by commitment. Where obedience looks less like bold action and more like refusing to quit. Where prayer is not eloquent, but persistent. Where belief is not confident, but resilient.

One of the most difficult truths to accept is that God’s nearness does not guarantee emotional comfort. We want closeness to feel reassuring. We want presence to feel warm. Yet there are moments when God is near in ways that do not register emotionally. Much like a parent who stands watch while a child sleeps through a storm, God’s presence is sometimes protective rather than perceptible. You are kept, even when you are not comforted.

This challenges our assumptions about what love should feel like. We often equate love with immediate relief. But love also takes the long view. It sees who you are becoming, not just what you are enduring. God’s love is not reactive. It is intentional. It is not dependent on your current awareness of it. It holds steady even when you are unsure, even when you are questioning, even when you feel disconnected.

There is a particular grief that comes with spiritual silence. It is not just the pain of unanswered prayers, but the loss of something familiar. The loss of a sense of closeness you once knew. The loss of a spiritual rhythm that once sustained you. This grief deserves to be acknowledged. It is real. It is valid. And it does not disqualify you from faith. Grief and faith can coexist. In fact, they often do.

Many people try to rush through these seasons, believing that the goal is to get back to how things were before. But growth does not move backward. It moves deeper. The version of faith you are being formed into now may not look like the one you had before, but it may be stronger, more compassionate, more grounded, and more enduring.

There is also a subtle shift that happens when faith matures. You stop asking God to constantly prove Himself to you, and you begin to trust that He is who He says He is—even when your circumstances suggest otherwise. This trust is not blind. It is forged through experience, through survival, through seeing that you are still standing even after seasons that should have broken you.

When God feels absent, it is tempting to fill the silence with noise. To distract yourself. To numb the discomfort. To search for quick answers that will make the tension go away. But silence has a purpose. It invites reflection. It strips away superficial beliefs. It reveals what you are truly anchored to. In silence, faith is either deepened or abandoned. Staying is a choice.

Staying does not mean pretending you are okay. It does not mean suppressing doubt or forcing positivity. Staying means bringing your whole self—confusion, frustration, weariness, and all—into the presence of God, even when that presence feels distant. It means continuing the conversation, even when you feel like you are speaking into the void. God hears prayers that feel unanswered. He receives cries that feel unacknowledged.

There is also a quiet humility that develops in these seasons. You learn that you do not control outcomes. You do not manage timing. You do not always understand purpose in the moment. Faith becomes less about certainty and more about surrender. Not resignation, but trust. Trust that God’s perspective is broader than yours. Trust that what feels like delay may be alignment. Trust that what feels like loss may be pruning.

One of the most profound changes that occurs in these seasons is the way you relate to others. When you have felt abandoned, even temporarily, you become more compassionate toward those who are struggling. You stop offering easy answers. You stop minimizing pain. You begin to sit with people in their discomfort rather than trying to fix it. This is not accidental. God often uses our own seasons of silence to shape us into people who can hold space for others.

Faith that has survived silence carries a depth that faith formed only in comfort cannot. It knows the weight of unanswered questions. It understands the ache of waiting. It has learned that God is not a vending machine of blessings, but a steady presence through every season. This kind of faith does not need to announce itself. It speaks through endurance. Through patience. Through quiet strength.

There is also freedom that comes when you stop interpreting every difficulty as a sign of divine displeasure. Life is complex. Suffering is not always instructive. Pain is not always corrective. Sometimes things are simply hard. God does not need to orchestrate every hardship to be present within it. He does not abandon you to teach you a lesson. He walks with you because He loves you.

Many people fear that if they admit feeling abandoned by God, they are somehow betraying their faith. But honesty is not betrayal. It is relationship. You do not hide your pain from someone you trust. You bring it to them. God is not offended by your honesty. He is not shocked by your doubt. He is not disappointed by your fatigue. He knows your limits. He knows your frame. He remembers that you are human.

There is a tenderness in God’s patience that we often overlook. He does not rush your healing. He does not demand emotional recovery on a timeline. He does not pressure you to feel something you do not feel. He meets you where you are, not where you think you should be. This meeting may not always feel dramatic, but it is faithful.

Over time, often without your noticing, something shifts. You may not feel God in a sudden rush of emotion, but you begin to notice small evidences of His presence. A moment of peace that arrives unexpectedly. A strength you didn’t know you had. A clarity that comes slowly. A door that opens at the right time. These are not coincidences. They are signs of quiet faithfulness.

Looking back, many people realize that the season where God felt most absent was actually the season where their faith became most real. It stopped being borrowed. It stopped being performative. It stopped relying on constant affirmation. It became personal. Grounded. Durable.

This does not mean the pain was necessary or that it should be romanticized. Pain is painful. Silence is unsettling. Waiting is exhausting. But meaning can still be found within these experiences. Not because they are good in themselves, but because God is present within them.

If you are in a season right now where God feels distant, it is important to resist the urge to make permanent conclusions based on temporary feelings. Feelings shift. Circumstances change. God remains. Your current experience is not the final word on your relationship with Him. It is a chapter, not the conclusion.

You are not behind. You are not failing. You are not forgotten. You are in process. A process that is shaping depth, resilience, and a faith that will sustain you long after this season passes.

Faith is not proven by how loudly you can proclaim it when things are easy. It is proven by how quietly you hold onto it when everything feels uncertain. This kind of faith does not demand immediate answers. It rests in trust. It waits without despair. It hopes without guarantee.

There may come a day when you feel God’s closeness again in a way that is unmistakable. There may come a moment when the silence lifts and clarity returns. But even if that day feels far away, know this: the absence you feel is not abandonment. It is not evidence of God’s withdrawal. It is part of a larger story of growth, refinement, and enduring love.

For now, it is enough to remain. To breathe. To keep showing up. To keep turning toward God, even when you feel nothing in return. This turning itself is faith. Quiet. Unseen. Powerful.

Feeling abandoned by God does not mean you have been abandoned by God.

It often means you are being held in a way that does not announce itself, guided in a way that is not immediately visible, loved in a way that is deeper than feeling.

Stay.

Trust.

You are not alone.

Watch Douglas Vandergraph’s inspiring faith-based videos on YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@douglasvandergraph

Support the ministry by buying Douglas a coffee https://www.buymeacoffee.com/douglasvandergraph

Your friend, Douglas Vandergraph

Working late trying to get pull request comments addressed. Cannot stop listening to this live performance from Mayonnaise. Hangin by the way translates to “Wind” in English.

#Status #MusicVideo #Mayonnaise #OPM

I had a rare moment of Christian celebration yesterday, when Rev. Kelle Brown of Seattle’s Plymouth UCC and chair of the Poor People's Campaign in Washington State kicked off our civic MLK Day rally saying:

“In one year it feels like what we’ve been through centuries of crap-stained years from hell, soaked in hot dog water,” she said.

In a passionate speech, Brown called President Donald Trump a “warmonger” and condemned Project 2025, exploitation under capitalism, unaffordable health care and disproportionate policing. – Seattle Times, Jan. 19, 2026

That's the kind of gospel-focused moral clarity without dissembling I was raised to expect from Christianity. It's what the world expects to hear from our faith leaders during this crisis, and what we are not hearing from Catholicism. Which is odd, given that the Catholic Church isn’t exactly known for skimping on the “moral judgment.” Where other traditions have to wrangle over “prudential” disagreements, we have the standard of Catholic Social Teaching to help cut through the noise of subjective congregational opinion and reach objective truth.

But with months of policy that demonstrably violates the principles we say are central to our faith and its vision of a just society, that judgment has been sinfully slow in coming. The “slow and steady” crowd point to the historically rare Special Message from the U.S. Bishops denouncing mass deportation policies as if that excuses their silence. But why did it take eleven months for them to say anything? Surely the defunding of the Church’s refugee settlement services and those of Jesuit Refugee Services and potential restrictions on religious worker visas didn’t have anything to do with it, right?

As the federal government actively works to erode the very democratic norms that keep the Church safe from persecution, the leaders of the Church failed either to speak against the substance of those abuses or to rein in their fellow bishops who are complicit in committing them. While well-behaved bishops stick to their worn-out, collegial etiquette to avoid the perceived “scandals” of open partisanship or faternal correction, the culture-war mavericks among them have no problem actively serving as government appointees in an openly antidemocratic regime.

Yes, we should be grateful the bishops are finally speaking out against the deadly abuse of immigrants, refugees, and American citizens in the nativist hellscape that is now America. But we should also be mad as hell that they steadfastly refuse to address the gravely disordered morality behind it all.

Immigrant abuse is only a symptom.

Trumpism and MAGA Catholicism are the disease.

And our bishops’ “special message” is a band-aid.

Make no mistake. Our bishops are not courageously challenging a Trumpist agenda. They’re just raising a point of order.

And in doing so they have effectively abandoned their children: Catholics – indeed, any Christians – speaking out against this disease because of our faith and not despite it. We are the neglected children of our spiritual parents, wondering why Dad is too busy to show up for the big game.

Perhaps that’s about to change.

Yesterday, three American cardinals finally spoke out. Instead of staying on the safely purple plain denouncing the evils of our immigration policy, they ventured into a scathing critique of the United States’ gravely immoral cessation of foreign aid and expansionist warmongering.

We seek a foreign policy that respects and advances the right to human life, religious liberty, and the enhancement of human dignity throughout the world, especially through economic assistance. – Cardinals Cupich, McElroy, and Tobin, January 19, 2026

Moreover, in an interview the day before, Military Archbishop Timothy Broglio declared that a U.S. invasion of Greenland may well be morally unjust.

“It would be very difficult for a soldier or a marine or a sailor by himself to disobey an order such as that,” he said. “But strictly speaking, he or she would be within the realm of their own conscience, would be morally acceptable to disobey that order. But that's perhaps putting that individual in an untenable situation, and that's my concern.” – National Catholic Reporter, January 19, 2026

My fellow Catholics, we have been put on notice.

It is not enough merely to question politely whether mass deportation is gravely immoral (it is) or a matter of prudential difference of opinion (it is not).

A properly formed conscious must find U.S. foreign policy gravely inconsistent with a culture of life, a violation of religious liberty and human dignity throughout the world.

And as culture-war Catholics have delighted in telling everyone for forty years, if you disagree, you may not be as good of a Catholic as you pretend.

Harsh words, but ask yourself: does the incarnate Christ – through whom all life and being enters into visible reality from the mind of the eternal Father – stand for authoritarian rule and military expansionism or against them? Does he lend the power of his creative Word to sustain “princes in their palaces” or “the least among you” who are the bedrock of his Kingdom?

Nearly a century ago, no less than the Pope denounced the dangerous fictions of Germany’s rising authoritarian government in Mit brennender sorge, the only encyclical ever published in German.

The peak of the revelation as reached in the Gospel of Christ is final and permanent. It knows no retouches by human hand; it admits no substitutes or arbitrary alternatives such as certain leaders pretend to draw from the so-called myth of race and blood. – Pope Pius XI, March 14, 1937

It is time for our pastors and the princes of today’s Church do the same. I call on my bishops – as I implore you to call upon yours – to denounce MAGA and Trumpist Catholicism as gravely inconsistent with the gospel and the social teaching of the Church. I call on my bishops to denounce all Catholic teaching that promotes the degradation of the rule of law and democratic norms as an attack on the Body of Christ. I call on them to denounce the MAGA cult of personality around the authoritarian president as a false idolatry. Before it is too late.

Your excellencies, it is time to wake up and smell the hot dog water.

In Summary: * As I sit here at the keyboard listening to the pregame show for tonight's college basketball game between my Indiana Hoosiers and the Michigan Wolverines, the teams have taken their seats and the National Anthem is being performed. Tipoff is right around the corner. It's my intention to listen to the radio call of the game, then finish my night prayers before 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.

Health Metrics: * bw= 220.0 lbs. * bp= 130/80 (81)

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

Diet: * 06:45 – 1 Sonic cheeseburger sandwich, toast and butter * 11:00 – baked fish * 11:30 – 1 peanut butter sandwich * 15:50 – home made vegetable soup, white rice

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 05:00 – listen to local news talk radio * 06:20 – bank accounts activity monitored * 06:50 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials, nap * 14:10 – now watching Blade Runner: Final Cut * 17:00 – now listening to the pregame show ahead of tonight's college basketball game between the IU Hoosiers and the Michigan Wolverines

Chess: * 16:30 – moved in all pending CC games

So… a week and an half ago, just getting over the flu I’d had for two weeks, I decided I needed a second wooden spatula in the kitchen. So I made one from cherry. And broke it when I put in the inlay of ash which was just a hair too big.

The cherry spatula is 3 inches wide. The maple ones are 3½ inches wide. The blades vary in length from 3 to 4 inches.

Then I made five more from maple because I figured I could do better. I had planned to get four from a 12/4 x 7 inch x 20 inch chunk of maple, but after cutting the first two out, I realized I could get three from the thickness I had. And if the board were 9 inches wide, I could probably get nine blanks from a 20-22” long piece. But anyway.

Roughed them all out on the bandsaw, changing blades way too often. Had a ¾” 2/3 tpi hook blade for ripping / resawing out each spatula shaped piece from the 12/4 board, then a ¼” 16 tpi blade for cutting out the shape.

From there, the blanks went into the carving vise, and I dialed in the shape with spokeshaves. I used the large and small HNT Gordon shaves, as they both have tight enough mouths that I can work the “wrong way” on the grain and still not get bad tear-out.

On a few of the spats, I used the belt sander to flatten the back of the blade, but generally I did that with the large shave. I think the two with the worst blades were ones I cut with the tension too low on the resaw blade.

Carving was mostly done with a 45°︎ V tool palm-gouge. I think it’s 3mm wide. I also used a #3x6mm and a #2x12mm on the blue and yellow spat. The plum painted ones just got lines carved with the v-tool and then I made some thin plum milk-paint and painted it into the lines.

#woodworking #batchProduction