Our comments on this topics (ordered by publication date, newest first):
On this New Year and this Wolf Moon—as the World decides if it's time or not already to start the World War—I looked up, for my now traditional Scheherazadean tribute, at how my life gets snapshotted by 𝕏 (ex‒twitter), through a selection from the last 1001 tweets that I posted on the platform.
Donald Trump ordered to take control of Venezuela, in particular its oil resources, and for good measure, also ordered the abduction of its president Nicolás Maduro, who is now detained with his wife and probably already extradited to the US. This is another gross violation of international law that pushes the world closer to its brim.
For this new year 2026, I wish for ourselves to bring more beauty to the world than we will take from it.
«Dis-lui que je la méprise
Qu'elle me dégoûte à pleurer»
Over the period 2005-2025, I shared my life with that of Elena del Valle, at which point, she decided that she had had enough of me. Fair enough.
One silly detail that never fails to bring tears to my eyes in the constant flow of pictures that the modern world bring to us from the Gaza massacres, are murdered children draped in their children's clothings.
Do you know Ruth María Pascual? And do you know Georges Pasquier, Jojo? Do you know Jeanne Planche, la Jeanne?
This interaction with Grok took place on 24 February (2025). Grok helped me code the template that displays our interaction below, by the way, so it's good for something, but it couldn't quite understand what I wanted and I had to fine tune it myself. Still, help much appreciated, thank you Grok.
We got very close to WWIII finally igniting with long-range NATO missiles striking deep into Russia (this was on day 1001). The resourceful Russians found a way out between the alternatives of nuclear escalation or conceding defeat, in which case I was worrying they would prefer self (and global) destruction to surrender. But they thankfully found a way out: орешник. Their dominance in missile warfare was upgraded to a new type of non-nuclear armageddon yet still with nuclear-level deterrence. The world was safe again, at least for some time, and I then thought the biggest problem of humanity was back to that of the Children of Gaza. We passed from cancer to gangrene.
2025 is already five days old, and as I read my last year greetings, I realize I could copy/paste them here and keep repeating the same tirade, year, after year, after year, after year, after year. It is more clear today, on 5 January (2025), than it was last year, that we are freefalling into the end of occidental civilization, not feeling the gravity of the situation just because one doesn't realize when the event horizon is crossed. Other people realize that for you, long after it happened. This is called History. And because one is wrong when one is right too early, I believe it is time for me to stop worrying and love the bomb.
Gaza is probably already gone. We are merely seeing it going.
Today, the last red line drawn by Russia on the scorched Earth of battlefields has been crossed: long-range missiles have been launched to strike deep into its territory, closer to the head. The nuclear escalation now seems unavoidable.
What is going on in Gaza is atrocious beyond precedent. Never before, in the history of mankind, have such crimes been committed so openly, under the nose of the so-called International Community, over such infinite periods of time and with such steady progress in redefining the limits of barbarism.
I am in Syros for my 47th birthday. Two years ago, I was thinking what would become of us from the inspiration provided by a detail of a monument erected to celebrate a victory of Prussia over France. The inspiration was a naked child scratching his head as if to ponder how to reconcile innocence with horror, which both define the world.
NATO authorized direct attacks with its weapons on Russia and it becomes increasingly confirmed that Macron will deploy French troups in Ukraine. We are about to reset the World War Three counter to zero.
Today marks the 2nd "anniversary" of the Ukraine war. I did not find the strength to write anything on the 1st one, as this was such a depressing omen, signaling the impossibility of a solution anywhere soon and an immediable rottening of the wound. On the 2nd year, I would like to just equally ignore it—which is what most of us do anyway on a daily basis—and postpone the snapshot of my perception caught in the moment to the 3rd, 5th or 10th year marking the event of what appears to be the beginning of the end.
2024 is celebrated around the World as two major wars ravage its surface. Children are dying, civilians are murdered and hate is spreading among those who are not yet fighting. We drink champagne—le vin du diable—awaiting our turn, though refusing to accept that it will come.
Ça va
Il y a toujours un peu partout
Des feux illuminant la Terre
Ça va
les Hommes s'amusent comme des fous
Au dangereux jeu de la guerre
Ça va
As I write this, a column of mercenaries is driving towards Moscow to topple down a government trapped in a never-ending conflict and under increasing pressure and hostilities from Western Countries.
Everything that I write now will be obsolete in a few hours.
Orwell wrote an enthralling essay on his time in private education ("Such, Such Were The Joys") in "«an expensive and snobbish school which was in process of becoming more snobbish, and, I imagine, more expensive»". He got there because such a place was "«sometimes willing to sacrifice financial profit to scholastic prestige»" to "«bring credit on the school»".
Today I played, for the first time, with OpenAI's playground (see also chat GPT), which is still in beta mode, and that people make write pieces of code or motivation letters. As someone who was already mildly interested in the Markov chains of Emacs Doctor several decades ago, I found myself pleasantly surprised that I could indeed almost have a non-boring, dynamic and close to a Turing type conversation with this engine. That is the record of my exchanges with Sarah:
My Scheherazadean tribute to twitter became timely again with another 1001 tweets written since those that I could, on the previous occasion, only trace back down to 2014. This time, a higher engagement with the platform allows me to overlap with the online record that is, at the time of writing, kept up to 15 March (2017) (a tweet commenting "It does not need to be imagined, it needs to be written down."). All tweets actually seem to remain accessible, if they are referenced. These are, for instance, my first & second tweet, and my third one, one year and a half later. Follows below a selection among the last thousand or so written since then.
If Van Gogh would have seen the world we now live in, after cutting off one ear, he would have poked one eye out.
I am in Freiburg for my 45th year on this planet that is also 7 months and 7 days (218 days) of what never looked so much like the 3rd world war, with the recent explosion of the gas pipeline from Russia to Germany (this was four days ago) and the annexation of the four regions of Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson to Russia (this was today).
Did we notice that we were already 100 days into World War III? The Second one also started like this, almost unnoticed. One was speaking of a "Drôle de Guerre" (funny war) to describe the period between the French and British declaration of war to Germany on 3 September (1939) until the actual fighting, dated 10 May (1940). There was missing the destruction and desolation of a "serious" war so this term was employed instead (British people spoke of "phoney war" instead, and possibly one mistranslated the other. The Germans spoke of Sitzkrieg (sitting war) while the Polish, also part of the events, found it "dziwna wojna" or surprising. It is the same now as, for most of us, there is no obvious or direct consequences of destruction, death and calamities. At most the inflation. In fact, most people would probably say that we are not at war. So a funny if not surprising situation indeed, definitely phoney and, as time passes—it is already 100 days—aren't most of us sitting down? The basics do not really change in the great world-changing events, only details and specifics.
It is now a month that Putin invaded Ukraine. What do I think now that is different from what I was thinking a month ago and what, on the opposite, has been confirmed or reinforced?
It is now ten days that Putin invaded Ukraine. What should have been a blitzkrieg is slowly but surely turning into a World War; so that will be the third one. What will be the infamous tryptic: 14-18, 39-45, 22-27?
Last night, around 4:00pm CET, a quick look at twitter before going to bed kept me glued to the screen instead: Russia had started a large-scale military operation in Ukraine and deployed troops there. And this is what Putin had to say about it: [1]
An event that looks like one more in a long series of aggravating moves in our chaotic world has the same detonating flavour as the ones that can cause world wars. It might be that nothing more catastrophic than what we are getting used to will happen, but if it would take greater proportions, of the type that will be life-changing for everybody, I'd wish to record my feelings on the night that it happened.
Le Monde—the French newspaper of record—explains why it took it two days to confirm the death of Luc Montagnier.
It is now confirmed by mainstream media that Prof. Luc Montagnier, discoverer of the RNA replication mechanism and awardee of the Nobel prize for his work on the HIV, passed away two days ago. The information has been broken and circulated in a timely manner by France-Soir, which triggered either condemnation of the claim as fake or an embargo on its diffusion. This allowed a quite unique circumstance of a popular tribute by admirers of the character unpolluted by politicians and the authorized press, de facto silenced by their incompetence.
Or did he? As I write, the information has been announced by France Soir over 23h ago
2022, it's full of two, full of "too" too, it's been years that—pondering on what the future will bring us—I keep commenting on how things keep worsening irremediably towards a catastrophic event that will snap and result in a major collapse of society, if not civilization. But since it remains true for all points on the curve, that even an exponential growth is locally linear, things never look so dramatic from one day to the next even if they are going much worse now than they were one year ago. Remember, indeed, such a year as the last one, where "quarantine camps" [1] have been opened, where mandatory vaccination has been ordered in several places [2], coercing people who refuse the inoculation of an experimental product of dubious interest for an illness pausing a dubious threat to the general population, by firing them ("no jab, no job") [3] and depriving them from social aid after that [4], limiting their right to go out in shops and businesses [5], facing incarceration in, this time, actual jail [6][7], and, overall, losing their status of human beings [8][9] to be qualified instead of monsters and sociopaths who don't belong anywhere [10]. Remember, as well, that people have been shot at with real bullets when protesting peacefully against such measures [11]. All this happened. And here is the real danger to humanity: segregation, coercion, mass hysteria and authoritarian abuse of a fraction of the population with the blessings, if not encouragement, of the state and another fraction of the same population. And above all, normalization of such atrocities.
«Back in September, I told my 9 year-old that he'd get his first shot of a COVID vaccine by Halloween»
This is not the opening line of a horror novel, but a serious comment from Ashish K. Jha, MD, MPH @ashishkjha, a Dean of something somewhere. If you do not feel the thrill of such a morbid association, maybe the comments, that I screenshot below as a snapshot of growing insanity, will clarify the tones of this picture. To me, they are beyond belief, painting a world where children's greatest aspiration is to "get the jab", celebrating "Vaccine-o-ween" and being "independently minded kid" for demonstrating frustration and anxiety at the delay of their injection. This is child abuse from people that have been indoctrinated at an embarrassing level. Read again the opening line. Do we want medical doctors and childhood to make such bondings?
Look at this man.
Censorship is going at a speed never seen before in any society that qualifies itself of democratic and remotely believes to hold some amount of freedom and liberties. Some of the recent highlights include censorship of the president of the United States and then in its wake, of a series of other officials, politicians, intellectuals, scientists, artists, etc., in addition to many less known activists. All this happens chiefly on YouTube and Twitter, with a worrying silence from the big majority of people, not to say consent and approval. It went one step further today with direct censorship of someone's private blog. This is not anecdotical because it's one thing to monitor a wide-audience platform, with the invalid but at least plausible excuse that you have to play by their rules, and to go after someone's personal property.
The gloomy future which I was alluding to in my previous reading list is slowly but surely setting itself at ease in our daily lives. There is increasing massive and systematic surveillance, with France being particularly keen at leading the way towards a dystopian nightmare that we have been warned against so many times. One of the ironic tragedies of this great reset is that it will reset everything in its wake, including our literary heritage: Hugo, Lamartine, Bernanos (from the French side), Orwell, Huxley, Vonnegut (from the English one), they all become obsolete in the built back better world of which they warned us against.
There is broadly two attitudes one can have regarding covid: either you see the evil in the virus itself, either you see the evil with much more familiar forms at the interface of politics and finance.
Most of my New Year blog posts actually comment in one way or another on how unfit the current situation is to wish for happiness, but this Year, I will take an extra step and actually skip this indecency altogether. It is clear that this Year 2021 will be a miserable, terrible, painful and horrifying one. For many. Maybe for most. Therefore, I present everybody—ourselves—my sorrows and sympathy for the difficult times to come.
Joe Biden has been declared the 46th president of the United States. By the media, but it seems to be accepted now that they are the ones to decide, not the legal system, not the court, nor the state and certainly not the current office which gets silenced 40s into their assessment of the situation.
I am not one bit better than the meanest on earth. I said then, and I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it, and while there is a criminal element I am of it, and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free.
Debs.
France just sent a writer, Hervé Lalin, known as Hervé Ryssen, to jail for nine months. For his writings.
In the same week, the French president (Macron) made a flamboyant speech in the defense of total freedom of speech in his country with also, simultaneously, all major newspapers launching a common call in defense of freedom of speech, of writing and of drawing. But not for Ryssen. He is behind bars as I write. Of him, I know very little. He seems to be a self-declared antisemite, a racist and has a few theories of his own ranging from incestuous practices of the Jewish people to satanic expression in Holywood's movies. I don't know, really, but now, more than I want to, I feel that I have to.
Easter is an important holiday break for us: that's typically when we make the most interesting and exploratory trip of the year. In 2018, it was badly spoilt by my intestine troubles, for which I had to be hospitalized for a few days, only to be hospitalized, this time for surgery and for about ten weeks, a few months later. This took in its wake the best of this year's holidays which had been craftily prepared for a great narrow-boating trip in south Wales. Last year, we visited Easter Spain, and still have in memory the shock of meeting Albarracín, a place which seems to have not yet heard about the Reconquista. This year we had planned to visit the Portugal which we have neglected, that is, all that lies between the Algarve and Porto, passing by one of my favorite region of Spain, also greatly neglected, Extremadura. But this time, it's not me, it's the World which is sick.
I've been on Twitter since November (2009), which is very late actually (I've been on the Internet since 1993). It was in a time when social media were not yet a big thing. I was very much against facebook (and still am), but someone, now a top editor in a big journal, convinced me to give it all a try. I hated facebook even more after trying it. But I actually came to enjoy Twitter.
And now that some #10YearsChallenge gets trending there, it was a nice occasion to go down through my entire stream. Sadly, Twitter doesn't let you do that. I'm blocked beyond 2014. One can still download one's full dataset, though, which I did, but it comes without any friendly interface to browse them (it used to). In the process, however, I also noticed that I just passed a thousand tweets! No that much given some people would easily write such an amount in a week, and read as much in a day or less. Still, this is agreeable to go down memory lane. This is a selection of a few interesting events that one can still access in my twitter feed.
Something not unique, but quite rare, seems to be happening in France. The country, which once was leading the nations to aspire to new models of civilization nurtured by freedom and human rights, and was inspiring the world towards these universal ideals, later took its turn to join a queue for some sort of political balconing to explore how private and corporate interests could maximally spoil the people's fundamental rights and common good.
The country that once was that of du Guesclin, of Jeanne d'Arc, of Robespierre, of Desaix, of Victor Hugo, of Lamartine, of Bernanos and of de Gaulle, became the country of Pompidou, of Giscard, of Chirac, of Sarkozy and of Hollande, in an observably worsening sequence. Each next president of the French republic was less popular than the previous one. For the latter in the series, the indicators even became qualitative: Sarkozy was the first president not to be re-elected and Hollande was the first to not even try. And then came Macron.
It is unsettling to consciously realize that there is only one unit of human history (a century) that separates us from the great war (!?). I remember the same odd feeling of History suddenly shrinking to a speck of insignificant duration at the occasion of the bicentenary of the French revolution, which was the first of the decisive turning points leading to our contemporary society: the revolution leading to the first war, the first to the second and the second leading us to where we are now (see Jean Dutour for the details of this sequence would this not be evident). The French revolution, however disruptive and terrible it was, still carried at least the illusion of a step forward. It made such a great impression on such a great man as Victor Hugo. With the first war just behind him, Bernanos, the most visionary writer of his time, was already observing that "le visage du monde devenait hideux" (en). After the second, it was plain for everybody to see its traumatic proportions. In this droplet of time that separates us from the first war, three generations of my ancestors have gone. It almost took me out as well.
Slaughterhouse-Five is Vonnegut's masterpiece, and the second book of him I read (after Cat's cradle). I enjoyed it so much I naturally turned to the rest of his work, with the anxiety that the minor pieces would not be up to the famous ones (a problem with every author). Vonnegut is a peculiar writer, with strange sci-fi plots and uncanny characters whose recurrences throughout his work make you feel there is a thread to follow. Reading the synopsis of his works does not really make you crave to read them. The titles, in particular, are, to my taste, extremely poor. Even the book covers are, for some reason, repelling. It looks like every care has been taken by both the author and the people in charge of his marketing to make you flee away. It all changes, however, when you open the book and start reading.
How shocking! Big Ben has gone silent until 2021! That's a recording of our last hearing of it:
Since I have recently worried more than on average (this is a constant preoccupation) on political turmoil, oppression and dictatorship, etc., in the wake of the American political landscape, brexit, and, of course, the French elections, I have put back at the top of my list some old-time classics that I have wanted to read for a long time, plus a political essay/documentary from someone I personally know.
In the French presidential debate [1], where the liberal discourse was confronting the nationalistic one, but which everybody agrees was of terrible quality, full of unwarranted aggressiveness, insults, belittling of the other, etc., the pathetic Marine Le Pen had one good rhetorical line: "whoever wins the election, a woman will govern France, either me or Mrs. Merkel" (?!).
Our 2nd edition of Microcavities is going fast towards its 2nd edition.
Our democracies have little left even of the mere appearance of what they proclaim to be. A recent "incident" in Spain provides a neat illustration of the totalitarian regimes that now rule us. Two puppeteers performing for the Carnival in Madrid were detained by the police and jailed without bail for apology of terrorism [1].
I discovered Philip Glass in 1992, in my Lycée years (secondary school in France) in a beautifully shaped building
that was inspiring for the aspiring scientist.
The Laussy del Valle family presents you their first New Year's wishes. They are the first because Julia wasn't yet born last year and we weren't a full family without her, who, by Spanish custom, links our name with a soul.
In the two weeks of holidays we have in August this year, I will be reading:
All these books are related in some (sometimes very indirect) way to the Plaza Mayor de Madrid.
When Canalejas was shot in the streets of Madrid at the hands of an anarchist, he was alone. Even if he had been a criminal capitalist (it appears he was not), he died a victim. He was a prime minister.
This morning I filed in a complain at the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid train station, one of the many daily examples where ferocious capitalism raised its head way above common sense.
034 days ago, I uploaded my first YouTube video [1], to celebrate Elena's birthday (on the 22). I now uploaded my tenth [2], on the Holy Week in Madrid.
The French director Alain Resnais died yesterday.
Regardless of a gloomy situation and of everything bad that may/could/can/will happen, one has to strive to be happy, resolutely happy, hopelessly happy, I therefore wish to wish you (no pun intended) a Happy New Year.
To emphasize that, I'll put it apart and in the official languages of our little group:
It is great whenever a scientific breakthrough is so big that everybody knows the Nobel prize will be awarded according to the original wish of its atoning patron: to honor those who during the preceding year, shall have conferred the greatest benefit on mankind.
Voltaire wrote Candide from the shock of hearing about Lisbon's earthquake. This emotion was probably fueled by his rivarly with Rousseau on the question of Christianity. Voltaire's grief was, really, religion.
Chávez died.
There was an important demonstration in Madrid and other Spanish cities yesterday, to protest against austerity and corruption.
These are some personal thoughts motivated by the Operation Pillar of Defense [1]:
Today, the European Union was awarded the peace Nobel prize [1]. The merit was "for over six decades contributed to the advancement of peace and reconciliation, democracy and human rights in Europe".
There is something of cosmic proportion in this story. In the now famous village of Borja, a fresco from a minor artist, Elías García Martínez was defaced by a local resident, Cecilia Giménez, an Octogenarian who, in good faith, decided to benevolently restore the painting to preserve it from humidity.
Stallman is one of the rare alive persons I see who can assume the role of a morale conscience for our contemporary world and much troubled society (!?) He is the genuine intellectual, achieved scientist and cold tempered social activist entitled to carry this much needed virtuous, wise and timeless truth that the rest of us can rely upon.
Ask the beasts and they will teach you the beauty of this earth.
Saint Francis of Assisi.
Onyx, the Yorkshire terrier of my mother, passed away. Five years after her. Five years alone as they were inseparable companions, and the loneliness of the little dog ever since always echoed a bit of my own.
The copyright business is to intellectual production the same atrocious deformity as slavery was to the physical integrity of people in the past centuries.
The videos of Gaddafi's demise have been a great shock for me. The images themselves were not the most shocking, though, the real shock came from the concert of congratulations that accompanied the news of Gaddafi's death. I would have like to read consternation, outrage, condemns and reproving. Not even stopping long on such supremacist uncouthness as Clinton's "hilarity" (we came, we saw, he died [1], you can compare this impromptu spontaneous reaction to her sober official statement [2]), how can a man be lynched and all our leaders deliver victorious speeches and manifest outright satisfaction?
I do not want to delve much into the political issues, which are complex but more importantly, are really not the point. I would just summarize here what may be can be agreed upon by most.
Images and even videos showing the fall of Gaddafi bear a mention or another along the lines of "content is potentially offensive or inappropriate. Viewer discretion is advised."
When Nabe got 33, he went to Jerusalem to get baptised. A mystical move which he recounted in an essay, L'âge du Christ:
Google started, less than a couple of weeks ago,(i) a revolutionary service: its social networking platform Google+.
Today is Elena's 30th birthday!
There is little echo in the international press of the recent events in Spain, be it the growing mass gatherings [2], or some cases of its violent repression by the police [1]. This is a bit strange as the events are both important and notable. Since the demonstrations are pacific and their demands are mainly against political corruption and decency in the conduct of power, I have only positive feelings about it. Today, we went in Munich to support the indignados, themselves supporting the core movement in Spain.
We might ask ourselves how we would be reacting if Iraqi commandos landed at George W. Bush’s compound, assassinated him, and dumped his body in the Atlantic.
"I can report to the American people and to the world" announces the president of the United States, Barack Obama... What? That they have cured cancer? Landed on Mars? Achieved room-temperature superconductivity? Solved the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? At least lifted the embargo on Cuba?
I was looking for a representative masterpiece of minimalism for my list of favourite songs. I have settled for Mad Rush
The bliki is a blog provided by a wiki.
This is the technology we shall be using on laussy.org from now on. We initially used own-cooked php scripts, then later upgraded to a dedicated weblog engine, WordPress, but as we later relied increasingly on MediaWiki that is powering the rest of our web, there came a strong urge for uniformity and homogeneity.