検索キーワード： 著者 "Boris Kriger" すべてのカテゴリー

The Pelican’s Gift: Bestiary and the Secret of Lasting Knowledge is a luminous meditation on how knowledge survives — and why some books outlive centuries while others vanish.

Classical epistemology asked "how does the mind acquire knowledge of the world?" and spent three and a half centuries unable to answer, because the question was badly posed. It presupposed a division between mind and world, between subject and object, between inner representation and outer reality — a division that does not exist in nature.

Somewhere between the courtroom and the kitchen table, between the breaking-news headline and the whispered suspicion, humanity picked up a devastating habit: the reflex to accuse first and ask questions later—if at all.

This book, more or less, demonstrates that time is most likely an illusion, its speed depends on age, and from a physical point of view, time, as such, may not make sense. Why should all this matter to us? Just as people suffered and died, they will continue to suffer and die. I have nothing to say to that. It’s true. And nothing can be done about it.

Replacing the psychologist with a computer, however strange it may be, can have a therapeutic effect because we invariably see in the psychologist a person who can judge us and experience disdainful feelings about our weaknesses. In many cases, the patient will not tell a real psychologist that which he reveals to a machine. Urges the patient feels are indecent and aggressive will be hidden from the psychologist until a trusting relationship is built.

What is the connection between the expansion of the universe and sadomasochism? Why is everything in the world striving for decay? How can one realize this and effectively resist self-destruction, at least on an individual level? The peculiarity of this audiobook is that the author tries to make broad generalizations, referring to various scientific disciplines. This audiobook discusses self-destruction at all levels, from cosmology to the human psyche, in which self-destruction is considered a deviation from the norm.

Teddybearness is a system of values, ideas, and actions, based on a gentle and benevolent attitude towards everything and everyone, the absence of all anger, hatred, envy, and hostility. Teddybearness ignores the insolubility of the problems of this world and is aimed at creating maximum comfort “here and now”.

This audiobook raises questions why our world is such, and not different, showing a lot of opportunities to create other worlds, in some ways similar and in some things fundamentally different from ours. The audiobook offers the highest moral law of the creators - not to create imperfect worlds, painful for their inhabitants.

The world is changing at an incredible pace. Many areas do not have time to come into compliance with these changes. One of these areas is taxation and incomes. The principle of collecting taxes from companies and individuals is flawed because it implies the possibility of tax evasion, and because high taxes really hinder the development of business and the lives of individuals, and therefore the development of the society for which these taxes are collected.

On the twenty-eighth of February, two thousand and twenty-six, an artificial intelligence system helped designate a girls' elementary school in the southern Iranian town of Minab as a military target. One hundred and sixty-eight people died, most of them schoolchildren. The system was working as designed. That is the problem. This book argues that the danger of artificial intelligence has been catastrophically misdiagnosed.

Your passport is not a document of freedom. It is a leash with a government logo. The nation-state—that seventeenth-century invention built on territory, bureaucracy, and the implied threat of force—is creaking under the weight of a world it was never designed to manage. Tax codes nobody understands, border walls that solve nothing, surveillance dressed up as security, and a social contract you never actually signed. The question is no longer whether this system works. The question is: what comes next?

Look up at the night sky. Every star, every galaxy, every wisp of nebula appears perfectly, eternally still. The constellations that Hipparchus cataloged over two thousand years ago remain recognizable tonight. The Universe seems frozen. It is not. Behind that apparent stillness rages a cosmos of extraordinary violence: galaxies colliding over hundreds of millions of years, stars being born and dying in thermonuclear cataclysms, space itself expanding and carrying everything apart. The Universe is not frozen. We are merely too brief to see it move.

In The Attention Trap, Boris Kriger traces the quiet catastrophe unfolding behind every screen: the transformation of human attention from an intimate, irreplaceable faculty into the most fiercely contested commodity on Earth. Algorithms bid for your gaze. Platforms auction your focus. Love letters vanish between memes, and wars disappear behind recipe videos. Meanwhile, small businesses are crushed not by competition but by invisibility, and trust between people erodes as every word begins to feel like a sales pitch.

In 1800, a young Welsh factory manager did something no one had ever tried before: he treated his workers like human beings. He raised their wages, shortened their hours, built schools for their children, and — to the astonishment of absolutely everyone — made more money than ever.

Every morning, billions of people drag themselves out of bed to perform tasks that a machine could do better, faster, and without existential dread. They commute for hours, attend meetings that could have been emails, fill out forms that no one reads, and return home too exhausted to wonder why. They were told this was life. They were told wrong. The Career Redundancy in the Age of Intelligent Machines is a provocative manifesto that refuses to pretend the crisis of work and education is a problem to be managed. It is a liberation to be seized.

Peter Griffin, the cartoon patriarch of Family Guy, is in a theater and says what no one else in the theater dares say: what the hell is this! The audience is frozen. The actors are frozen. He is the only living person in the room. And—strangely—he is closer to what Anton Chekhov actually wanted than any of the reverent strangers around him. This book is about a writer who quietly invented something nobody had named: a literature that works the way real life works. Without resolution. Without verdict. Without the lies of plot.

We have mapped the surface of Mars with greater precision than the floor of our own oceans. We predict the weather on Jupiter but cannot say when the next earthquake will strike. We speak of the planet’s future with the confidence of prophets—yet we do not know where the water came from, why heavy elements sit in the crust instead of sinking to the core, or how the first living cell assembled itself from dust. Dust and Time is a sweeping, unflinching exploration of the vast territories of geological ignorance that modern science has papered over with confident models and apocalyptic headlines.

You are not imagining it. The years really are getting shorter. Not on any clock, not on any calendar — but inside the three pounds of tissue between your ears, something has changed. The summers that once stretched into lazy eternities now collapse into a long weekend. A decade vanishes like a coin in a magician's hand. And the unsettling sense that you are being robbed of time — that life is accelerating toward some finish line you never agreed to approach — is shared by nearly everyone who has lived long enough to notice it.

What if time is not something the universe runs on, but something the universe produces? For more than a century, Henri Bergson’s notion of “duration” shaped how philosophers, artists, and psychologists thought about time. He won a Nobel Prize for it. He publicly challenged Einstein over it. And yet his beautiful metaphors never answered the most basic question: what actually is time?

Every major nation on Earth is governed by someone you wouldn’t trust to park your car. From aging strongmen who confuse their own biography with history to ambitious young demagogues who confuse their Instagram following with a mandate, the global political class has achieved something remarkable: unanimous, bipartisan, cross-cultural incompetence. Meanwhile, automated systems already fly your planes, regulate your power grid, and manage the supply chains that keep civilization from starving.