TEMPO Media Group - Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Whenever I stand before an imposing monument, I feel something is missing. It feels like just an abstract.
We remember Man Friday.
IN 1818, more than 200 years before the world enthusiastically and anxiously welcomed the age of ‘artificial intelligence’, a novel was published: Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelley.
One day in the 4th century BCE, Alexander heard there was an eccentric philosopher living in Athens. The young Macedonian king wanted to know more about Diogenes.
On a small proscenium stage, five girls sang in chorus; then one stepped forward:
I was reminded of Pahom.
I often feel strangely disturbed when I hear the word ‘philosopher’. We know these creatures exist, but I have never been able to clearly identify them.
On January 30, 2019, a woman fat as a sackful of rice and with a face twisted like Sarpakanaka, shot an air pistol at a life-sized doll. The doll had the face of Mahatma Gandhi.
In Cordoba, one day in the 12th century, a beardless young man astonished a famous philosopher.
What is the commotion in politics, deafening us and stimulating us, making us believe and disbelieve? Words.
There are many words and pictures that we notice on the backs of passing trucks—funny ones, erotic ones, wise ones, and playful ones.
It all started with Bouazizi.
One mother who is never celebrated is Gandari. She was on the losing side, and is despised.
In the 19th century, an old man in Surakarta observed with sadness what was going on around him: young men parading their piety.
An experiment turns half a century
You have 1 free article for this week. Get
4 free articles after Register.