Category: Fourre-tout

A little bit of everything

When eggs are teaching chickens

It’s increasingly common today to encounter children who seem more knowledgeable than their parents—especially when it comes to technology and media. Kids are naturally curious, and their young, adaptable minds absorb information like sponges. They’re essentially large empty hangars, storing everything they experience.

In this era of mass communication, children have become unofficial experts in electronic media. Whether it’s smartphones, iPads, or computers, they seem to know it all. It might be time to harness this expertise to assist those of us who are less tech-savvy.

These days, nearly everyone owns a smartphone. Yet, despite its ubiquity, few people take the time to fully master this incredible gadget, often due to their hectic schedules. Ironically, the so-called “smartphone” is often far “smarter” than its user. It’s a mini-encyclopedia capable of answering almost any question, while its owner might struggle with even basic functions.

Children, however, have an edge. Free from the demands of jobs and adult responsibilities, they have ample time to explore and unravel the secrets of these devices. To test this theory, I enlisted the help of a ten-year-old. The results? Both are astounding and slightly unnerving. It’s remarkable how much kids know, and yet a bit disconcerting to imagine a 10-year-old wielding such knowledge and such budding power.

Sensing the potential (and the risks), my inner Machiavelli started scheming. Why not turn this untapped resource into something productive? Instead of letting kids waste hours on video games, why not recruit them to educate us technologically challenged adults? A clever entrepreneur could organize a posse where these young “tech tutors” would guide us through the digital maze—for a fee, of course- and illuminate us. What kid wouldn’t jump at the chance to earn money while showing off his skills?

It would be a win-win situation for everyone. Adults get the help they need, kids feel empowered, and perhaps we can forestall the nightmare of a future where tech-savvy teenagers dominate the world unchecked.
Just imagine a White House filled with Mini-Musk types. Terrifying, isn’t it?

Alain

Rose’s best day

Valerie

One day, Rose woke up from her crystal bed. She wore her prettiest dress and high heels before running down the grand staircase into the ballroom. Her name tag indicated she was younger than her older brother.

“Come on, your grandparents are here!” someone called.

Excited, Rose ran to greet her grandparents. She performed a delightful dance, sang a few songs, and ended with a graceful bow.

They sat down for lunch at noon, enjoying chicken salad and rice. Afterward, Rose took her grandparents on a tour of the palace, showing them the elegant rooms, lush gardens, sparkling pools, and the balcony with a breathtaking view of the ocean.

“Hey, everyone, let’s go to the field—it’s amazing!” Rose exclaimed.

“The sculptures there are incredible,” she added.

“That sounds lovely. Let’s go,” her grandmother said with a smile.

They strolled through the fields, talking and admiring the scenery. By the end of the tour, it was already six o’clock, and they returned to the palace. Dinner was served: a delicious garlic soup and spaghetti.

When dessert arrived, Rose turned to her grandparents. “Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, we’re staying for a whole week,” they replied warmly.

As the day wound down, Rose’s mother said, “Rose, it’s time for bed.”

Rose darted off like a tiny mouse, running from the dining room through the ballroom, up the grand staircase, and into her room. Her parents followed to kiss her goodnight, tucking her in with loving smiles.

Valerie, 7 years old

Assisted dying

Society often avoids discussions about death, treating it as a taboo unfit for polite conversation. Yet, like many taboos, this aversion is profoundly misguided. Death, one of life’s certainties, deserves open dialogue, public debate, and, ultimately, personal autonomy. No one but the individual directly involved should hold the final say in matters of their mortality.

The specter of death looms universally. It is a natural process culminating in “the permanent ending of vital processes in a cell or tissue.” Final and irreversible. Yet, in most cases, this monumental decision is not left to the individual but dictated by conservative authorities averse to change.

While some fear death itself, many more dread the slow, agonizing process of dying—particularly when accompanied by pain or debilitating conditions.

Death is deeply personal. The decision of how and when it occurs should rest solely with the person involved. It’s a matter of agency over one’s body—a right that is gradually, though far too slowly, gaining recognition through the legalization of “assisted dying” in some parts of the world. But how long will it take before this right is universally accepted?

The question is urgent, especially given the state of deeply politicized judicial systems that may be ill-equipped to resolve such a nuanced, deeply human issue. As Napoleon Bonaparte aptly said, “Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than to be able to decide.”

In life, the mind governs the body, but when the body’s deterioration overwhelms the mind, it’s often time to let go. No elderly person desires to endure life tethered to machines, tubes protruding from every direction.

And what is the glory of reaching 100? While some embrace it with zest—like the centenarian who celebrated with a parachute jump—others may prefer to bow out quietly. Both choices are valid, as they stem from the individual’s unique perspective.

Thinking about death is not morbid; it is practical. It’s a decision that must be considered carefully while one still can choose. Assisted dying is as essential as the right to planned parenthood—both choices are rooted in autonomy and dignity.

Support this right before it becomes a casualty of regressive policies. A society that values individual freedom must ensure that this ultimate choice remains in the hands of the one who matters most—the person facing the end of their journey.

Alain