I wish that I could ask you[I] (not for an answer, just for the telling of the story): I split the world in half and put it back together, I saw the stars appear for the first time in the sky, and possibilities flicker in and out between seconds, minutes and days; grey fog becoming incandescent flowers, bodies dancing around me like clockwork dolls singing the hour. I saw everything I wanted I...
To suggest a framework, within a narrative of textual commentary, for understanding (a) on what basis a de novo commentary could be written; (b) how this is seen within the 1st/10th commandments, and to do so, explain how Torah framing can, without internal contradiction (within this write-up) accommodate the universal uniqueness (which includes, e.g. “enemies of the faith according to any...
Editorial notes: One of Shai’s special skills was writing short stories in a style used by famous authors. The two short stories below are a reflection of these attempts. The first written in the writing style of the American-British novelist and screenwriter, Raymond Chandler[I] and the second in the writing style of Jorge Luis Borges. Instant Noodles with Egg by Raymond Chandler The night...
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...
In the middle of my life, I found myself adrift in elderly trails of an ancient forest. The forest was older than the fur and feathers that tossed and curled amongst its barks and tendrils. It was older even than the soil that was its current home. Once, long ago, it had been under the sea, composed of microbial blooms and an innovative evolutionary whirlwind. Forest Alone in the forest, lost...
Editorial notes: As noted in Shmoop, the title of this post is made in reference to a “line spoken by Neo, played by Keanu Reeves, in The Matrix, directed by Lilly and Lana Wachowski (1999). As part of his training as The One, Neo must learn all kinds of martial arts to fight the Agents, who work for the machines and keep the computer simulation known as the Matrix running. But instead of...
