If the universe had a mood, it would be Monday. Entropy marches, coffee cools, batteries drain, and socks vanish into an event horizon behind the washing machine. Against this cosmic backdrop, optimism can feel like a form of bad arithmetic. Yet here we are—hairless apes who invented anesthesia and sourdough starters—still arguing about whether the glass is half full, half empty, or a … Read the rest
In politics as in physics, energy without work becomes wasted heat. A statesman may radiate heat—boasts, ultimatums, and gusts of indignation—yet accomplish little if no force is actually applied along a clear line of action. Over time, the system notices. Entropy, in this case, takes the form of diminishing credibility.
Consider a leader fond of superlatives, negotiating with a hard, continental power on his frontier—an autocracy that redraws maps … Read the rest
By Eric Le Roy
Soul
Mine is a fishbowl
standing by itself on a table
by the edge of a dusty road.
Once I thought,
how round, how clairvoyant,
how full of eyes,
this aqua, these minnows!
Wanderers pass
from many distances,
the tired or wild.
They wash their dust-caked hands
in me, and now
the water is a cloud.
To such a murky soul I have slowly come.
