In 1729, Jonathan Swift wrote what might be history’s most horrifying dinner suggestion. He wasn’t hungry, just tired of moral hypocrisy.
I discovered Jonathan Swift in school through his masterpiece, Gulliver’s Travels. I was fascinated with the places Gulliver visited – and that’s probably what injected me with wanderlust. In this piece though, I want to talk about another work of his, something of a far greater import.
During his lifelong study of human indifference and cruelty, Swift did what any reasonable person in his place would : he suggested we eat babies.
Peter Scotchmer dives into two great reads- Saroo Brierley's contemporary true story 'Lion' and Rudyard Kipling's classic novel 'Kim' during his own travels through the Indian subcontinent. While in India on family business, I picked up two outstanding books about the...
On Homunculi, Algorithms, and the Small Souls We Make Jonathan Bennett follows a thread from alchemy to algorithmic avatars in a reflection on our age-old desire to imitate creation—and the uncanny reflections we’ve unleashed. 19th century engraving of Homunculus from...
A humorous reflection on life’s lowered expectations, fine dining dreams gone cold, and existential musings from an Arctic kitchen. There comes a point in every man’s life when he realizes that all the years of carefully curated knowledge, refined tastes, and grand...
Indifference is not a response in unsettled times Love, not indifference, protects. Here is a Downy woodpecker by Maria Corcacas. This morning, as the ‘dim temple of the Dawn1’ paled the sky, our red-headed male downy woodpecker announced his return with his...
Neolithic Man's discovery, Rodin's insight, and William of Occam's wisdom Imagine Mankind’s awe, when, for the first time, he watched a rock melt in a fire, and out ran a liquid. When it cooled, he saw it was different, and he called it metal. It truly was a...
I’ve walked many ancient sites, but Troy is different. Homer writes of ‘windy Troy’, and when I stood upon the ruined battlements, looking out toward the sapphire sea, it was constant and strong. I thought of exhausted sailors rowing past Cape Sigeion, and their...
Filippa the Flaxen, Queen of East Anglia, with hair like soft strands of warm gold, shimmering in sunlight, the colour of the muted sun, is seldom remembered these days. Once upon a time, though, her people, the Flax, were cultivated and eaten in much greater...
Be skeptical, and think afresh... Flying Fish Services Ltd. The Editor of The Ironist has long asked me for my views on the war in Ukraine. For me it is a long way to Europe – let alone across the Atlantic – as I haven’t left the Black Sea. But sturgeons live longer...
Enjoy life more with a little reflection. It’s almost November; a cool breeze blows. Frail, yellowing leaves flicker on branches; their brethren, dried and curled, toss aimlessly as they roll down the street. I need an escape from this coming cold…India! The red dust...