A colleague once muttered that the fear of deadly stillness explains every social conflict. He went on: when someone knows they’ve been ‘given up on,’ they begin to organize their own funeral—and involve others in the preparations. They announce who’s allowed to attend, who will speak, and who’s conspicuously absent. In short, life becomes a continuous rehearsal for death, full of symbolic farewells and shifting responsibilities. Ah The Second is dead, long live the Second!

This morning, I asked him if he enjoyed the final traffic jam. Still, seeing society through his eyes yields perspectives that are bizarre yet oddly recognizable. The so-called ‘ascension’ is a personal, universal journey. At the kickoff, you want to leave those behind a mandate—a kind of blessing, but also, perhaps, a shifting of blame. I advised against celebrating the farewell itself or turning the end into a moment to offload failure onto others.

If you live as if every second counts—that each passing moment is the death of a former self—then the present is a perpetual rebirth. When you look at the patchwork of people gathered at society’s endless series of funerals, you might find a perspective that gives sense to the chaos. It’s oddly funny.

In that spirit, isn’t the elaborate funeral planning around Mr. Trump just an excuse to create a Jesus-inspired ‘Tresus’ invitation card—members only? Pray for him, then move on from the living dead.

If life is continual rebirth, obsessing over someone else’s grand farewell—be it a political rally or a ‘Tresus’ card—is just a way to stay stuck in a moment that’s already over. The news cycle becomes a poetic farce: one man trying to outrun stillness by making noise before the final curtain, while everyone else argues over the seating chart.

Just saying,

The text is essentially telling us that the “Tresus” phenomenon is just a symptom of a larger cultural illness: the fear of being a footnote. We argue over the seating charts of grand political funerals because it makes us feel like the event hasn’t ended yet. But as the title suggests—The Second is dead, long live the Second—by the time you’ve finished mourning the last moment, the new one is already here.

Those who follow me on Facebook (link) are familiar with my introduction, “My resistance to the madness of the moment is cast in satire and blues.” Today, I want to give shape to my feelings for the blues in this short article ‘ We lost the Blues’

Just to be clear, I am not a music expert; I am simply letting my feelings guide me, and I would love it if you shared yours with me.

The strength of the blues, in its resilience, is most likely why it resonates so well. The only Art that glimpses the American Dream. In reality, the nigger of those days is the Ph.D medical doctor of today. While the American dream turned into a nightmare, the spirit of the broken nigger, the art of blues, yet your savior in relived art and in the hospital, lives on. 

‘ I lay down my burden by the riverside, study war no more’. It is for me one of the most stunning expressions and true indeed, the nigger laid down the burden of proving to be a human, took a position, and succeeded. In 1964, finally, the nigger became an African American. How different from Zionists, embracing the burden and embracing the study of wars as no one else. The history of today tells the difference. The black race put itself to tasks, navigated wars, and stood proud. And the Zionists? While it’s doubtful to compare, no doubt the greatest crimes against humanity have been committed against both; the one who laid down the burden at the riverside seems to be in an advanced position, I am just saying.

Paul McCartney wrote “Let It Be” to bring himself peace during a highly stressful period. Overwhelmed by tensions and arguments within The Beatles, he had a comforting dream where his late mother, Mary—who passed away when he was 14—appeared to reassure him by saying, “It will be all right, just Let it Be”

Discoveries, new labels, new contradictions, and thus fresh human battles over the meaning of the discovery: opportunities to fight one another, and so the world keeps turning on its axis. Paul McCartney’s ‘Let It Be’, a song written at a time when societies were in turmoil and everything was thrown into the battle to liberate societies from the perceived yoke, doctrines, and imposed lifestyles, was answered by Paul with a deadpan “let it be,” nowadays often translated as ‘who cares’. 

Maher Zain wrote the motivational song “Insya Allah” to inspire people to never lose hope during difficult times and to remind them to keep their faith and trust in Allah. He wanted to create an uplifting message that brings comfort to listeners when they are feeling lost or hopeless

Manifesto of Recognition

You do not need a dominator to be oppressed.

Oppression can also come from within: from addiction, from forced activism, from the despair your own mess leaves behind.

Maher’s voice says: Recognition is responsibility.
Without wisdom, no prosperity.
Without forgiveness, no tomorrow.

And so, like a snowplow, Let It Be pushes the madness aside,
And Insya Allah points the way upward.
Never despair. Keep on rolling.

Insya Allah