Hashtagananza

I learn so much when I start a new book. What other activity would allow me to have, on the same month, a conversation about 1) soul alchemy in daoism, another on 2) thought suppression on the brain’s neocortex, one about 3) antagonist algorithms in artificial intelligence, one on 4) the differences between playing and … Continue reading Hashtagananza

Why I fight

Master grinned. And told me a tale of a time when the first leaves began to fall in the magic forest, and a hand-tall bird challenged the magnificent dragon for a fight. Frail but brave, she huffed her feathers and lifted her wings as if she was a big white crane. The fire breather laughed so loud he was heard on the other side of the world, for each of his scales were bigger than the puny fowl. So hard, the mere air bursting out of its mouth threw the bird against a rock and she passed out. Next autumn, the senseless tiny one was back. A bit fuller, but still diminutive compared to her foe. (...)

Predators into prey

"White supremacists, racists, sexists, abusers. There is something positive about how emboldened those slimy critters have been. In power, they are easier to sniff and attack. Yes, I confess I love seeing them turn into punch dough by the small hands of an Asian girl. I'm a Tigress, after all. The Queen of the cónglin. Pouncing is my nature and they are my diet." (...) --- read the full story here.

The Wooden Man

In my mind, it’s always present. One flash inside the other, never past, never future, forever happening. Right “now,” I am twelve. A sound: water nearby. The scent of leaves, bamboo, China. Among the woods, a broad, clear circle on the floor invites me in. The sacred ground where we train. Although this time, there's more. He watches us. Two arms point out; a third, a foot lower, aims at me; a single leg bends forward, like a cat stance. I return the look, in respect. The wooden man, icon of … Continue reading The Wooden Man