25Feb, Day 46, Coincidence?

It’s a gloomy rainy Sunday and I’ve been moping around the apartment all afternoon. I hoped to find someone to go jogging with, but that’s not going to happen today. I spent an hour or more cleaning and then took out the violin for a while. I struggled to think of an interesting song to play, and put it back in the case after just a half hour to catch up on a few journal entries to the beat of Gli Anni.

I received an unexpected package Friday evening. I tore though the padded cardboard to find a seasoned-looking book. It contained a mysterious message printed on the front cover instructing the recipient of this gift to return it to the person they’d received it from if they’d already read it, or to read it in less than 12 days and pass it on to the person they think would benefit most from its message. I was amazed. I don’t believe coincidences happen by chance, and the timing is ripe for this story to return to me. I first read this story in Spanish about 3 years ago. Then I signed the inner cover and gave it to my friend Jimmy as a going away present before I moved to California. Coincidentally, I think he had already read it in its original language: Portuguese, but he was happy to accept it and read it again in his native language, just as I happily accepted this version in English. I’ve been experiencing a wonderful deja vu rereading the story though different sounding words. This is the first book that I have read in 2 languages. I think the Spanish version seemed more mystifying and viscerally poetic – in part because I could not understand every word, whereas the English translation comes across lucid and much more palpable. I blazed though it, and finished the book in less than 5 hours spread over the weekend. Now I’m faced with the task of deciding who to pass it on to.

I ate an apple with peanut butter and cowboyed up to go for a jog in the rain. The city is strangely quiet because there is a moratorium on driving in northern Italy this weekend. Every winter they declare a few days of traffic block for all vehicles that burn gasoline or diesel fuel to try to reduce the pollution around the city. I think this is the first time they’ve extended the ban though the rest of the region. I support this movement and believe these actions are an important step towards a sustainable carbon economy. Bravo Italia!

24Feb, Day 45, Stanford visits Milano

It was Carnival this weekend

20 Feb, Day 41, The Fashion Show


I would like to begin this entry with a shout-out to my friend Adam Gilbert for writing and performing tonight’s musical selection that I’ll hear while I write this entry. Readers located in the NY/NJ area should think about seeing his band perform live!

I caught a ride to Milano with one of my coworkers that live in the city. I arrived in the center before 7PM (earlier than I usually get home!), so had nearly an hour to kill before meeting Sally to go for a drink, and then go to the show. I took the metro to Garibaldi and began to stroll the neighborhoods north of the station in an area they call Isola. I’ve concluded that if I were to move to the center, the best location would be near Garibalidi because then I could get to work on a train to Arcore and then bus it to Vimercate, or take the metro to the end of the line, and bus to Vimercate from Colognio. I think in either case I’d be looking at a slightly longer commute, but I’m beginning to think I’d rather live closer to the center of the city. Driving is a third option, but I don’t think it’s worth the expense. Unfortunately, I did not find much in the way of apartments up for rent. But these things are seldom advertised publicly because the real estate agents have set up an extensive monopoly allowing them to collect exorbitant commissions on new leases because it is nearly impossible to find a place without going though them.

In any case, I was excited to meet Sally around 8 to head down to the show. I’d first contacted her nearly a year ago when I was trying to hustle for a job in Italy. I met her in person about a month ago. It was great to share some experiences with another person who sees Italian life and culture filtered by an American lens much as I do. This creates opportunities to discus a lot of comical idiosyncrasies unique to this region that deserve thorough jocular consideration.

We met up near the Duomo and headed to a café near the bar. I enjoyed the conversation that ensued, though didn’t feel like I had a lot of new news to share since our last aperitivo. I still don’t have closure on a new job contract, still interested in living closer to the center of Milano, etc.

Soon it was time to go to the show venue.

16 Feb, Day 37, Beggar’s largesse

I see the same guy begging for money in the same spot several days a week as I walk to the bus stop. I don’t know what he does on his days off because I don’t usually see him there on the weekend. I guess even bums deserve a break. Maybe he distributes his begging among several locations to balance his collections about the city. This brings up a bit of a moral dilemma for me. In one case I feel somewhat guilty for ignoring him day after day, but I really want to do is tell him I’ll give him 10 bucks if he’ll pick up all the trash within 100 yards of my apartment. (I think he could be more efficient than the state of the art roomba.)

The people around here don’t seem to hesitate to toss their filth and cigarette butts on the ground, so I imagine this guy could get a steady stream of work while making more money than begging, and he could help to resolve a problem instead of contributing to it. Although this approach may seem more like treating the symptoms than the problem, I’m optimistic that the greater populace might become more attentive to their trail of trash if they saw poor people that seemed to care more about the city than the average citizen. This may be the catalyst to tip the society into thinking (and acting) more interdependently instead of typical myopia.

Just imagine if all the beggars became the keepers and shepherds of the city: entrusted to keep things clean, and make sure they stay clean. I see model similar to the adopt-a-highway program-- except more personal. They could expand to cleaning spray paint and other eyesores around after the trash is collected. Then later we might even start thinking about our air and water… I can imagine a whole new economy being created where before people were just standing around asking for money. Now how do I initiate this social movement with a contagious mechanism to reach global proportions? This could be the start of my work towards a Nobel prize…!

I paraded up to the bus stop ready to carry on with the day, and look for a way to implement my employment strategy for the other beggars of the city. Along the way I counted no less than 22 expectorations on the sidewalk between my apartment and the bus stop. These slobs don’t even bother to spit out of the walking path.

However, I encountered a different sort of creature loitering around the bus stop for no apparent reason. Here was a small horde of high school students. (Have you ever wondered how we have high school, but not low school?)

I imagine that they couldn’t be up to much good if they were out of school on a Friday morning, but I guess one never knows these days. I guess they’re entitled to have their own social agenda as well. -Probably something that involves defacing public property, or at least leaving more trash at the scene than when they arrived.

One of the highschoolers had a champion mullet. It was truly something to marvel at, even more outrageous than you can find in the dukes of hazard, or anything else I’ve ever seen showcasing the most redneck sectors of American culture. The white trash/pimpstar with oversized aviator glasses and a ridiculous mullet seems to be in vogue around here for mysterious reasons though I suspect it might be some sort of act of rebellion.

I tried to rally to go out on Friday night in Milan in hopes to see (and meet) some of the models here for the Spring fashion shows. I’d planned to meet my friend Emiliano earlier that night, but it was getting late and the place they were meeting would have been hard for me to get to. I called a bunch of people with out finding anyone else interested in going. Bummer! Rather than bust out the violin like last Friday I decided to take a stroll around Monza. First stop was the Vanity Café. It was mostly empty, but despite the warm welcome I got from the waitresses, they didn’t seem interested in socializing much. (Typical.)

I ordered a mojito to stir while I hanging out see if things would pick up. Every mojito I’ve ordered in Italy has been sub-par until tonight. My usual complaint is that the sugar isn’t dissolved and there’s not the right balance of lime. Except tonight wasn’t really made like a Cuban-mojito that I’ve learned to drink in Florida, or a Mexican-mojito that was big in California, but rather some new Italian interpretation on the theme of mint, lime, rum, and sugar. Only they added a healthy dose of angostura bitters and a shot of amaretto. The angostura stirred up halcyon memories of canoeing at Club Bianco, and I thought the amaretto added a nice touch as well.

Feeling bored, I left and strolled down to the Irish pub where I had a good time 2 weeks ago. Tonight was karaoke night! I ducked thought the doors to find a couple of (cute) Italians trying to sing American classics along with other Italian songs. This music was less nostalgic and more stimulating than the angostura, and I soon found myself tapping my foot along with the show. However it was hard to really get involved because I hardly knew any of the songs. I contemplated asking to sing but overwhelming evidence from the left-brain kept me planted securely in my chair. I think this place has some potential to be a great time with the right mix of people.

I went home by midnight so I could get up early to go snowboarding with my new American friend, Miguel.

15 Feb, Day 36 Working in Genova

I went to one of the offices in Genova to help design a couple of test platforms. Despite spending nearly 4 hours in the car (and arriving home at 9:30) I feel like it was a very productive afternoon. I’d like to think I made some valuable contributions. -And I actually felt like a design consultant! Unfortunately this late return forced me to cancel my first chance to play soccer in Italy. Maybe I can play next Thursday if I’m not in Pisa.

(Last Sunday continued) We arrived at the mountain to find snow depth of zero millimeters at the base, but some people that were leaving said that it was OK up higher. We got dressed, bought half day lift tickets, and wedged ourselves into the giant cable car to hoist us up to the first level. We divided up 3 sandwiches 8 ways to scarf down for a lunch/snack while the cable car ascended a nearly vertical wall to get to the actual base of the skiing area. The obscured windows made photographing the view irrelevant. (Maybe to keep people from freaking out by the height.) The doors opened, and we rambled out onto a grated platform that you could peer though to the village thousands of feet below. This was a view that could probably give a construction worker butterflies in their stomach.

I had considered getting a snowboard today because I had a good time with it last weekend and I thought I understood that it was only the second day for some people in our group. But upon seeing that 6 out of 8 people had their own gear, and some were toting skis that were longer than they were tall, (usually a sign that they know what they’re doing), I decided to rent skis so I wouldn’t be the one holding up the group. It was a good thing because 2 of the girls were faster than me, and everyone did really well! I may not be a natural skier, but I consider myself to be pretty fast for a guy from Florida… We had a blast flying down the mountain all afternoon.

Giuliana invited me into her house to have a drink before dropping me off home after we said goodbye to the others. I was a little surprised to meet her parents there, and I had some strong flashbacks to high school, but I guess this is the Italian way and I shouldn’t be taken aback by it. I felt like we parted on a positive note and I hope to see her again. She nearly lives within walking distance so maybe we’ll go for a jog in the park or something…

Our office buildings outside of Milan

14 Feb, Day 35 Santo Valentino

I always feel valentine’s day is a good day for meeting people because the couple’s (who are generally less interested in meeting people) are all off doing their own thing, and the rest of us are left over. I’ve been making small talk with one of the girls at the bus stop some evenings, and I felt that we might of raised the conversation closer to a meaningful level tonight, but her bus came and I was left with Stephen Covey again. I’ve about 170 pages to go. I was briefly interrupted by the crash between a bicycle and pedestrian in the cross walk, but they seemed to brush it off OK but surprised that they could not occupy the same space at the same time.

Later tonight I’ll go for dinner with Ricardo and some other friends. Outcome is yet to be seen…

Where was I? Oh, the passegiata Saturday…

By now the police were out in force, and dozens of officers were stationed around the city. With so much security I didn’t know if I should feel safe or in danger, but the usual parade of weekend window-shoppers continued unhindered, so I figured it was probably not a big deal. After visiting a few stores to no avail I spied a small cafetiera in the display of a boutique.

Further inspection revealed that it was a 1-shot model made of stainless steel except for a brass pin in the hinge and plastic handle. Although it doesn’t really have the form to speak to the message I was looking for, I decided to buy it because I probably won’t see a single shot made of SS for a while.

I had planned on seeing a movie that night, but my viewing schedule didn’t seem to line up with their showing schedule, so I went to bed somewhat early for lack of another activity for the evening.

I got up Sunday and had a stout breakfast before heading downstairs to meet Giuliana and the others to go to skiing at Chiesa Valmalenco. I rode in a tiny little car with Giovanni and Guiliana while Anna and Bruno followed in another car. We picked up Marta, Rubin, and another girl (I think Vera) along the way. I was surprised to find that the rest of the group was mathematical engineers at Milano Politecnico, but they seem like a fun bunch to be mathematicians!

12 Feb, Day 33 Bread and Grappa

(50 pages, 28878 words!) –Tonight I’m trying to type with the timing of the piano serenades that I’m listening to, so expect a few unnoticed typos.

I woke around noon on Saturday and had to defer my plans to visit Genova and Portofino for a day that I could get an earlier start. Instead I would spend the some time taking care of a couple things around the house before going for a jog in the park.

Monza has a park large enough that I have yet to reach the far side on any one of my jogging or walking trips. Maybe one day I’ll rent a bike to reach the outskirts. I was surprised to see several police cars positioning themselves in the center of the town square as I passed through on the way to the park. The officers were already congregating around as though there was going to be some sort of demonstration. These guys were garbed in their riot gear with helmets and plastic shields. I found it reminiscent of political demonstrations I’ve seen in third world sectors of South America. (Just another perk of living out here on the frontier…) I jogged past the drug-dealing Moroccans near the entrance of the park, and entered the garden to the south of the Villa Reale. It’s too bad the villa seems to be falling in to disrepair because they could make it into something like a smaller version of the palace of Versailles, France, if they poured some money into it. I guess they’ve better things to spend their cash on: like refurbishing the train station or making billboards to put on the duomo.

I passed a few other people out for a stroll before stopping at the bocce courts to watch the old-timers and stretch a cramping leg. There were about twice as many of these seniors as last week, wrangling over the orbs like idiot savants capable of seeing nuances indistinguishable to my studious eyes. Maybe one day they’ll teach me their waning Italian pastime.

I showered, and then puttered around the house feeling quite proud to have removed most of the dust from the floor and some of the stains from the sink and tub. But the phone interrupted the closure of my cleaning. A girl with a lyrical voice introduced herself as Giuliana, a friend of Emiliano, (an Italian I met at Stanford while he was working as a visiting scholar.) What a strike of luck! Emiliano offered me her number because she’d planned to go skiing this weekend, but I thought calling more than twice would’ve been excessive in spite of failing to get her on the line either try. So we made plans to leave the following morning. I was ecstatic to be going back to the Alps tomorrow-- particularly after Friday night’s letdown and a generally vanilla Saturday.

Following a session of post-run stretching, I prepared to stroll the town to try to loosen up the ailing leg, buy some muscle relaxant, and find a proper cafetiera (coffee pot), and maybe a corkscrew. I’m looking for rather particular pieces of each. I’ve developed the habit of making a shot of coffee each morning, but neither of the two pots that came with my apartment is really suitable. The smaller one makes 2-3 shots and is made of aluminum, the larger one is made of stainless steel, but makes 4-5 shots. I can’t stand the aluminum, and the steel pot is too big. I think I know what I’m seeking to round out my morning experience… It would be a 1-shot pot made of something akin to buffed 316Stainless. I’m thinking of a VBR that’s sleek, efficient, urbane, but with a flare of brio. The corkscrew is a different story as it doesn’t come out daily, but should be a waiter-style design -something utilitarian, without compromising quality, made with a certain perennial pride and craftsmanship. I was thinking of brushed titanium with a finished wooden inlay on the handle held down by 3 or 4 studs.

Well sorry to end on this discussion on my present desires for coffee pots and corkscrews, but I’ll try to get to the title of this entry and the other adventures of the weekend later this week.

Signing off…

9 Feb, Day 30 A Week in Review

Nothing too exciting to write home about, but I feel due for an entry.

This week was marked by an extraordinarily mundane workweek in contrast to some more interesting extracurricular activities.

I jogged 14 minutes towards Milan to a new gym that I’ve heard is one of the best around. And it was a big place by Italian standards, but divisions between different areas seems to corral all the boys into the weight room, and the girls hide in other parts, giving it an atmosphere of segregation. It’s not an ideal setup. I think my favorite part of the evening was jogging down there with my hooded sweatshirt pretending to be Rocky.

Tuesday was my usual aperitivo and Italian lesson with Rosella. I think once I get the signature on a new contract to stay a few more months I’ll put in a little time studying again because I could use a review some of the lesser-used tenses. I was bummed out that the girl I met after class last week didn’t show up.

Wednesday was dinner with the neighbors, but my bus home was 50 minutes late and I was afraid they’d eat without me. But they waited and seemed in no particular hurry. We had spaghetti with pomodoro, and miniature boiled ribs with potatoes and peas. Anna made a type of pastry consisting of thin fried sheets of dough covered in powdered sugar called chiacchierare. After dinner I went out with the Sicilians for Fabrizio’s birthday. I arrived at Porta Genova 15 minutes after we planned to meet, and ended up waiting another 20 before they arrived. Then it was on to meet up with a few of their girls at Puerta Allegra, a bar a few blocks away. They’ve done a good job replicating the feel of a salsa bar in Miami, but there’s still a hint of Italian influence. I ogled at some of the dancers taking particular notice of a super-hot girl in a red dress. I think she caught me staring but didn’t seem to mind.
I went back to the table and sat with the others. I explained the definition of “wedgie” when a noteworthy example presented itself in the parade of people circulating the bar.

Riccardo and I decided to resume our inspection of the dance floor near the close of the night. He asked me what I was thinking as we listened to the bachata. I was going to tell him about dancing bachata with Alfonso’s Columbian friends at UM, but was interrupted when the girl in red came up to me, took my hands, and asked me to dance. Feeling quite embarrassed, I looked at her and stuttered, “that I shouldn’t.” Instead of letting go, she began to pull harder and asked, “Why?” I guess this girl wasn’t used to getting turned down. I thought the proper response to her question would’ve been, “perché sei troppa bella...” But I was losing traction and stuttered something about not being much of a dancer instead. Despite my better intentions, my efforts to resist began to collapse and I was coerced onto the dance floor for a lesson. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4. Bachata seems simpler than salsa though I probably wasn’t doing very well concentrating on her instructions over the volume of music compounded by certain visual distractions. I suppose this completed my night, and before I knew it, it was time to pile into the car with the boys and head back.

I should’ve been back in the office after a few winks of sleep, but it was one of those mornings then I got to the bus stop to see the bus speeding away leaving a greasy fart of diesel exhaust for anyone unfortunate enough to be left behind it. The next bus came after I finished 41 more pages of Stephen Covey.

I had a refreshing Friday morning and counted off the last minutes of the afternoon before heading home. After a good time on Wednesday, I was looking forward to going out with the Sicilians again. I ended up made tentative plans to visit Leonardo and Fernanda on Saturday if I wasn’t up too late to get out. They’re my Brazilian friends from the language school, -now living in Genova. I went to my favorite pizza place in Monza to celebrate the start of the weekend. They have the same great pizzas, but a new menu that has added about 2 euros onto everything. I’m not thrilled spending 9 or 10 euros on a pizza, and will have to look for a new place. My phone buzzed with a surprising message during dinner. Mari, one of the first Italian teachers that I spoke with in Monza wanted to get in touch. I think it’s odd that a language teacher –typically a vocal/auditory person, sends a text message saying an email bounced, but I guess not everyone fits the cookie cutter… I tried calling back twice without getting her before letting it drop. She has a history of flaking out anyway. If there’s really something to say, she should try calling. I went home and squealed the violin for a while, while I waited on the Sicilians to organize themselves to go out. I think I got it to sound good for a few seconds. Since I’ve been playing without music it can be hard to guess the notes to songs I’ve never played before.

The Sicilians flailed- confessing to be cleaning the house tonight. Cleaning an your apartment on a Friday night is about as lame as a blind dog that’s missing its hind legs.

3 Feb, Day 24/Weekend#4, Winter Sports

This has been a pretty good week and a great weekend.

The neighbors just stopped by to give me some marmalade because we haven’t seen each other in a while. I think we’ll meet up for dinner Wednesday. I still can’t get over how nice they are!

Yesterday I went snowboarding with Paddy, Maddy, Michael, and Nico. Nick was in my Italian class at Stanford, and he’s now studying in Firenze and came up for the day. It sounds like a lot of fun down though we had a good time up here too. But speaking English together for part of the day, I began to realize that I’ve started to slip below my former eloquence (which was not particularly well developed to begin with ;-)

We left Milan in the morning mist (which sometimes doesn’t clear for the entire day), but it began to clear by the time we reached Lecco, and we were looking at a bright blue sky as we ascended into the mountains. The base was pretty dry, but we rumbled up long tunnel in a funiculare to the bottom of the ski area where there was some snow. The snow on the mountain was pretty good, but a little bit icy in some spots. I was very pleased with my snowboarding since the last time I can remember doing it was during high school 6 or 7 years ago. (Wow! Was high school really that long ago…?) I’m still hurting in various places today, but it’s nothing too serious, and completely worth it. If I go a couple more days this year, I should start to get good enough to keep up with mom and dad on skis… Although the snowboard is still fun, I feel in many ways it is somewhat inferior to skis in that it takes more time to buckle up before and after the lift, there is no easy way to move on flat terrain, and you have a bit of a blindspot making heel-side turns. Maybe as I get better I’ll feel those limitations are less of a factor.

We went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I ordered a burrito, though I wouldn’t say that I actually got one for dinner. It was good though. Later I showed Nico some of the limited nightlife in Monza. We went to a bar I’ve never been to after being unimpressed with the scene downstairs, and being turned away from my second choice because we didn’t have a reservation. What kind of bar requires a reservation??? –Only in Italy… But I guess it was for the best, because this place was probably more fun than I’ve ever had at the other two places.

I watched the Sicilian soccer derby (Palermo vs Catania) Friday night with Fabrizio and some of his friends. I couldn’t believe the fans threw teargas onto the field to stop the game on 2 occasions. A police officer was killed in the riots after the game later that night. I would consider myself to be a passionate fan of the Miami Hurricanes, but I couldn’t imagine rioting because we lost a game. (Although I’ve heard that the dung eating trash of Ohio State trashes their city after some games.) We went for some drinks in a chic lounge toasting to the victors afterwards, and I didn’t end up getting much sleep before getting up early to get on the road to the mountains.

Accent reinitiated talks of a new contract for me at work on Thursday. It looks like I may begin working on some more interesting facets of the project, and even a bit of design engineering in the future. But there’s still a lot of inertia working against my efforts at “design thinking.”

I went for an aperitivo with Emiliano on Wednesday evening. He’s an Italian that I met at Stanford while he was doing some research in the biodesign department. Now he’s back in Milan working on a doctorate. It was great to share some old stories, and I hope we can hang out a bit more.

My Italian lessons started up again for 2007 on Tuesday evening. I enjoyed the practice, and company. -I may have even found an Italian girl that would like to learn a little English.

Some pictures of Brescia







Jan 27, Day 17, Attention x5 (continued)

This is my third night writing this entry. Just a side note: I’m drinking an Egyptian licorice tea that has a strange fragrance redolent of some whacked stuff that you can find in the mountains of South America. I’ll put on some Carlos Vives to complete the reverie.

So the way my luck was going today, I didn’t really take anything on my part before we were deep in a conversation as the funicolare crept up the mountain. (4) About half way up the mountain traces of show began to appear in the forest below while I could look across the lake for a spectacular view of the islands and snowy peaks vaulting skyward on the other side. I was reminded of skiing at Lake Tahoe, but the presence of this lake seems more intimate. I think it’s closer and smaller, or at least narrower. It’s unfortunate that the windows of the cable car make it hard to take a good picture and the frenchies hogging the best angle didn’t help the situation.

We clambered out at the top to find several inches of snow on the ground. With no sunglasses the light was dazzlingly bright, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me from exploring the peak. My new friend (Valentina) suggested I walk with her to the other side of the mountain for a different view where they have skiing. We chatted on the path, and I was impressed that she told me she does a lot of things on her own and is able to enjoy herself without the company of others. I could easily relate to this because sometimes my time here seems like an extended experiment in social isolation and I still find I struggle with it sometimes. I suspect some of the psychologists in my reader base might claim that this is part of human nature. --Maybe I can find a loophole to fee myself of Maslow’s postulation.

We crossed several trails that people were happily sliding down the fresh snow before reaching the lodge area and parking lot on the other side. The view of the craggy Swiss Alps a few dozen miles away couldn’t be anything less than awesome. Above and below a handful of cable ski lifts servicing a surprising number of runs. She asked for my number and suggested we might meet at one of the refugi around 2:30 for a lunch. I explained that I’d brought my lunch, but maybe I’d join her for a hot chocolate if I were still here at 2:30. (I did not plan to be.)

After marching around and gathering the details of the rates and rental availability I was ready for lunch. I purchased some locally made cheese for my sandwich and found a chair in the sun. Despite the wholesale distribution of snow, it wasn’t particularly cold in the sun. After eating I was ready to try to get to the summit of the mountain for a 360 degree panorama. The only problem was the lifts were the annoying kind of drag lines that would do me no good without skis (or a lift ticket). So I decided it was time for a hike. I began trudging though the nearly knee-deep snow trying to keep as much as possible out of my hiking boots. Despite the dampness, I was pleased by the effectiveness of my socks in keeping my feet warm. A couple hundred yards of ascent later, and I could see the village far below and the people exiting from the lift at the top. The view from here was everything I hoped for except for a radio tower detracting from the gestalt of the experience. But the wind whipped up from the lake, and having finished my climb I soon began to shiver and put my hat on. I snapped enough photos that I was comfortable that I’d have at least 1 good one, and climbed back down.

My phone rang as I was crossing the village.



Awareness

New report just out.
How much more data is needed before people are ready to commit to appropriate action?

http://environment.newscientist.com/article/dn11088-blame-for-global-warming-placed-firmly-on-humankind.html