#essey

~ It's all about AI't ~

U can now mint the Re:fleXion 'bout the essay AI't af NotebookLM Pod 4 free on NINAprotocol

AI't 📘

In the summer of 2024 I've been asking some LLMs 'bout their Music Preferences. I summoned them in this Essay, 2gether with my own personally written Re:fleXion. U can find the essay AI't here for free:

At the beginning of this year I fell into a deep black hole: little women.

After reading the first and second books in the space of a second, I also hurriedly caught up with all the adaptations I could find (the two most recent movies AND the TV series--I liked them, but amy and laurie are NOT really them).

Of little women I loved: amy and laurie. the way they live their relationship and transform and are so… perfect… it's so beautiful. THE BOOK MAKES IT ALL MAGICAL.

So, I present to you my thesis (41 slides, quotes, chapters, colors): amy and laurie, a love that can change the world. Because I truly believe that Amy and Laurie are endgame.

I find extremely interesting the contrasting meanings of word passion. Passion can be uderstended as a torment. However it can be also meant as a lust or a pleasure.

I believe that art has proven that the lines between those two meanings are blurring. And as we know, art reflects the life.

As a example I would like to take the famous sculpture “Ecstasy or Saint Teresa” This art piece shows us the moment of a woman being struck with a spear. Her tormentor is supposed to by an angle. The women is expected to be in a lot of pain as, after all, this is a Martyrdom scene.

However on her face I do not see an expression of suffering. I see a expression of pleasure. Almost like she is melting from it.

Many interpreted an act of puncturing Saints Theresa’s chest as a sexual one.

In my opinion this particular sculpture shows us the idealistic fulfillment that a woman reaches by being touched (hurt) by sacred power.

扶桑社　「天然生活」10月号

Night in the woods is a game about growing up and about death. I'll start from afar. There is a widespread belief that it is worthwhile to have a hamster for a child in order to introduce death. As for me, this is an attempt to make a good face over a bad game. Are we really could control death? Expecting that the child will not face it in any other way? Specially looking for meetings with death, and she is always nearby, means to close your eyes and defiantly fumble with your hands in the air, missing. To bring a living creature closer to you, specifically to extract (educational) benefit from its death, is to create the illusion that you are bringing death to some schedule of upcoming events.

Because "It’s always the others who die", the experience of death is sealed in our lives in bizarre and unpredictable ways. It may pass unnoticed, may be deeply traumatic, but I begin to think that it does not stack, one death does not prepare for another, in the sense that it does not facilitate the experience the trial of grief an sober. You will not lose, if near you dies one creature less.

But, on the other hand, the death of another serves as an index sign to OWN death. It’s always the others who die, but everyone will die. Another common belief that I would like to touch upon is that a person really matures only when he realizes his own mortality. When he is able with his mind’s eye to trace the index sign of someone’s death and find himself walking along the road in the same direction. Contrary to the fact that May Borovski is over 18, everyone calls her a kid, and she, in turn, declares that she will never die.

And Casey Hartley, May's childhood friend, the loss of which we learn at the very beginning of the game, serves as her guide on the path of realizing one’s own mortality and building attitudes towards it. Perhaps he even leaves her his own  attitude as an inheritance:

ここのところ小説がよく書けている（＝考えていることを都度入れ込めている）ために、単純な投稿が多くなっている。自分の持ち味だと思っている、謎をじっくり展開していく投稿から離れていることが少し悔しい。もっともっと、問いを投げかけたい。

さて、関東人の私にとって、四国に行くことは念願だった。まあ、掠めただけなんだけど。少し前に関西に住む人同士で「青森に憧れる」と会話しているのを聞いて、地理的に似たようなものかなと思った。

高松駅前のホテルにチェックインし、PC仕事を切り上げてからバーを訪れた。バーの暗さはそれぞれで、読書に適しているかは行ってみるまで分からない。しかし酒と本ほど相性の良いものもない。静まり返った部屋にスマートフォンは置いて出て、グラスの音を聴きながら文章を読みたい。

フロイトの『自我論集』をリーガロイヤルホテル大阪のリーチ・バーで、ベルギービールの代表格、デュベルを飲みながら。七月だったと記憶している。

オクタビオ・パスの『弓と竪琴』をホテルオークラ東京のバー ハイランダーで、海外からの宿泊客の歓談をBGMに、ジンライムを飲みながら。冬だったと記憶している。

ゆっくりと心ゆくまで読むことができ、特別な思い出となった二つの時がある。

今回はイスマイル・カダレ『夢宮殿』を、ポートワインを飲みながら。十月になり台風が退くと気力が漲る。その力を爽快なほど振り絞った昼間の仕事の後で。東京創元社の本って、恰好がつく感じがしない？ 買って満足、普段は後回しにしてしまうとも言える。この本も長い間放っておかれた。何となく四国に持ってきたが、ぴったりだった。このときばかりは思考を休め、代わりに誰かの夢・記憶に関する思考を読んでいたかった。

若いバーテンダーが手のひらに収まる携帯型の読書灯をくれた。ポートワインを頼むと、場所はどこだったかとしばし考え込んでいた。リストの後ろにあったし、好む人も少ないのかも。デザートとして甘いカクテルを作ってもらうのではなく、甘いお酒を開けてもらうことに喜びを感じる。

私はカダレを読んで、世界が自分に起因しない掟を持っていた頃のことを思い出した。それはあの人のルールだった。人は与えられた掟があれば、何時間でも彷徨っていることが可能だ。それを追放し、自己を律していくのがこんなにもエネルギーを使うことだとは。私が着想し、私自身がそれをやり過ごすことでしか、新たな道は切り開けない。だが、それでいいのだ。私はあなたをインスピレーションの食いものにはしないと誓ったのだから。時々、注意していないと破りそうになる。

写真は丸亀城跡から臨む海と、やわらかく光る高松駅前。

Because I haven’t had trouble writing stories lately (i.e. I’ve been able to include the things I’ve been thinking about each time), I’ve been making many simple posts. I regret a little that I’m growing further from the posts that thoroughly unfold mysteries, which I think are distinctive to me. I’d like to ask more and more questions.

Well, to someone like me who’s from Kanto, going to Shikoku was my heart’s desire. A while ago, I heard some Kansai residents talking about how they “yearned to go to Aomori”, and I thought “isn’t that geographically similar?”

I checked into my hotel in front of Takamatsu Station, finished up my work on my PC, and then visited a bar. The level of darkness in each bar is different, so one wouldn’t know if a bar is suitable for reading until one tries. But there’s nothing more compatible than alcohol and books. I’d like to leave my smartphone in a totally quiet room, go out, and read while listening to the sounds of glasses.

I sat in Leach Bar in RIHGA Royal Hotel Osaka, reading the collection of Freud’s works entitled “A Collection of Essays on the Self”, while drinking Duvel, the representative of Belgian beer. I remember this was in July.

I sat in Bar Highlander in Hotel Okura Tokyo, reading Octavio Paz’s “El arco y la lira”, with the chat of overseas guests as background music and while drinking a gin and lime. I remember this was in winter.

There are two times that became special memories for me, when I was able to read slowly to my heart’s content.

This time I was reading “The Palace of Dreams” by Ismail Kadare while drinking port wine. When the typhoons retreat and October comes, my vitality swells. It was after my daytime work, when I had mustered up all that strength to an exhilarating extent. I had brought the book to Shikoku thinking “doesn’t a book from Tokyo Sogensha Co. feel just right?”, but it really was perfect. At that time, I wanted to give my thoughts a break, and instead read someone else’s thoughts about dreams and memory.

The young bartender gave me a portable reading light that could fit in the palm of one’s hand. I ordered port wine and thought for a while about what the place had been. I was happy that rather than having the bartender make me a sweet cocktail for dessert, I instead had him open a sweet wine.

As I read Kadare, I remembered a time when the world had had a law that did not originate in me. Those were the rules from that person. If a person has been given a law, they can wander for hours. That it would take so much energy to exile that and regulate oneself! I would not be able to open up new paths until I came up with the idea and took it too far on my own. But that was all right. Because I swore that I would not use you as bait for my inspiration. If I don’t remind myself, sometimes I come close to breaking that vow.

The picture is the sea overlooked by Marugame Castle, and the gentle light in front of Takamatsu Station.