Editorial notes: This is one of Shai’s longest essays, written in seven instalments, six within a period of just ten days in 2016 (from 13th October to 23rd October 2016) and the seventh, a year later, on August 31 2017. Reflecting on Shai’s complete collection of writings, this can be seen, perhaps, as the zenith and culmination of his intellectual journey. As he was writing this essay he was...
[Fraudulent document? — Editor] Marcus Garvey’s diaries were amongst the improbable finds at Saddam Hussain’s ill-financed palaces. Their contents have always been overshadowed, by the incredible story of their theft and doctoring by the Church of Scientology away from the Catholic Church (who were hiding it from common knowledge). They describe a man who investigated other wisdoms...
Editorial notes: This post/story appears in two versions (see also Warm Rays in Cold Rooms (v1)) and it is not clear which one is the later or more up to date of the two, hence they are both published here. I was walking around the room, trying to focus on discovering new meanings between the storylines that were painted in items and their histories amidst history. I returned to sit on the bed...
Editorial notes: This essay/story appears in two versions (see also Warm Rays in Cold Rooms (v2)) and it is not clear which one is the later or more up-to-date of the two, hence they are both published here. After paying his respect to the anonymous pornstar, Professor Steven Stephenson, said, slurring his words [it was the one and only time I caught him blind drunk (nb. ethanol)], “I tried to...
Socrates and Leonard Cohen sit beneath an olive tree smoking opium from a Chinese pipe. Socrates: Gestures at black tar. Is this British? It has that tangy taste. LC: You know I don’t buy British. Both are silent as they mull over each other’s words. LC: You know I got fans. S: I got fans. LC: Yeah, but mine are alive. S: LC: Sometimes I think they want all my songs to be about sex, but I don’t...
