When The Station Leaves The Train

By Eric Le Roy

.

.

Screen Shot 2026 02 17 at 23 51 39

A couple of days ago, my colleague informed me that almost all of our readership had disappeared. Apparently, our erstwhile ‘fans’ are now opting for the seamless, dreamless efficiency of AI. I don’t blame them. Who wouldn’t prefer to have the world and all that’s in it summarized in a few seconds, when the alternative is a laborious process once known as ‘thought’?

.Read the rest

Safe Until Further Notice

ChatGPT Image Jan 4, 2026, 01_12_18 PM

Mr. K kept two documents in his desk drawer. One was a residence card that politely promised stability until 2030. The other was a passport that politely promised identity until 2031. He treated both like adults treat seatbelts: he knew they mattered, he hated thinking about why.

On good days, he almost forgot them. He went to work, bought bread, argued with a coffee machine that refused to understand the … Read the rest

Quebec To The Rescue

By Eric Le Roy

.

.

        First, I support no ideology under this shining sun. You don’t have to be wrong for me to be right, and vice versa. All my life, I have involved myself in civil discourse with all comers. Often it has seemed modestly productive, although rare is the occasion when I’ve noticed any radical shifts of opinion. Most people, including me, walk away with our convictions … Read the rest

Weltschmerz

By Eric Le Roy

.

‘We have fallen in the dreams the ever living

Breathe on the tarnished mirror of the world

And then smooth out with ivory hands and sigh.”

(Yeats)

.

.

My life at an advanced age vacillates between flashes of murderous rage and periods of unaccountable serenity. When I sense the futility of thinking that anything much is going to change during my ‘golden years’, I … Read the rest

Europe: Walking Toward the Unwritten Horizon

ChatGPT Image Dec 8, 2025, 07_20_54 PM

Europe is very easy to insult.

From a certain angle, the continent looks like an aging museum with Wi-Fi: polite, overregulated, uncomfortable with power, lost in its own procedures while other players move faster and hit harder. If you lived here in the 1970s and come back now, the contrast feels almost obscene. Where once your memory stored quiet town squares and local accents, now it finds the familiar … Read the rest