LIFE · Story

35

AI stole Corrine Bailey Rae’s voice and made a song. I heard it in the background of a YouTube Shorts video where someone was making an overly meticulous spaghetti dinner. Google could not match the lyrics to a song so I tried Shazam and Shazam could not find it either. A heavy dredging feeling arose from the bottom of my stomach as it occurred to me what Artificial Intelligence really is. Artificial Intelligence is the legal name of plagiarism. It is the permission to recreate an original idea without attributing that idea to the person who made it. It is being able to steal intellectual property from creators and churn it out in a mass overproduction. It can also be described as TikTok. Is AI the ultimate culmination of everybody getting a gold medal even for coming last or is it just a well dressed disfigurement of creative human thought? The equivalent of deep state for the human mind?

@amk

As I approach 35, I have noticed two more things recently, the passage of time as it interacts with exertion, both inward and outward, leaving evidence of fleeting youth and; an endless observation, contemplation and interest in having a say in how the world, our world, any world, first or third is run. Zohran Mamdani, mayor of New York has probably faced both, I imagine; the weight of American political office is visible in the strain in his smile and the droop in his eyes, less lean but emboldened by the audaciousness of hope, the dream of changing the world, reimagining the world, as if it had never been attempted before.

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Earthquakes are going door to door, coast to coast. The weather forecast says El Nino is coming, again; and this time, we are grown up enough to notice.

@amk

Succession and Estate Planning once again fails in Africa. The most outspoken critic of holding onto power is dealing with his own power crisis. Once a ‘revolutionary’, he is now, just ‘an old man’, among many other old men, hoping that what he did was enough, hoping that he maneuvered a lasting inheritance, or in this case, a dynasty, for his own.

How easy it is, to walk past with someone of shared origin, partly shared origin, because of how different they look. Only for them to approach you in a crowd, where you stand as an outsider, counting how many look like you, speaking a language that nobody there would know, and say, Hey! Are you guys speaking this language?”How did we find our bearings and somehow manage to have a flow of conversation within our confusion?  I guess skin colour and hair is not all that makes a person. Such a concept is unfathomable to America, surprisingly even more in California than it was in Texas.

In the same crowd that day where we were sticking out a little too visibly, I was afraid when our four year old run and embraced his brother’s principal’s legs. I didn’t think she had ever been that close to a brown child with furry hair. I wanted to pull him away before she could, but he had his little smile on, pausing and holding her tightly like she was an oft-visited grandmother. She looked up surprised. I said a polite high and looked for a shelter from the sun. I suddenly could feel the sun burning my forehead. That was the day of the ribbon cutting for the new community school.

World Cup ended about a month ago. It was the best fun of summer, besides the day we all went to the pool. Perhaps it was the most consistent one. Anyway, it lit me up. Because of World Cup and because of this picture below, I will be wearing my hair in its most original state, a little more.

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Bad black was on social media broadcasting the worldwide pandemic of body dysmorphia fueled by Instagram; a world of filters existing within a wider generational identity crisis. Years ago, she changed her nose and colour. It will take her half a year before she can sit again, but this time, she will finally become most attractive. As voluntary body changing surgeries became common place all over the world, weight loss drugs have also began their ascent, from a former tennis star, a former first lady to other women all around the world.

Story

‘We’ll Work For Love’- France [France v Spain 2026]

The girls who once updated us with beauty routines and hair regimens have been absent on YouTube for years. When they come back, they all have a different mission- most if not all, have adopted a new Source. They don’t talk about only hair and products anymore. Some tell us of things to come and others talk about what it means to feel like losing, while gaining every thing they once wished to have; the unconditional [yet overwhelming attachment] love of babies and the complex dynamics of companionship. The conversations are about changing careers, getting help, needing help, buying food, storing food, cooking, as they speak, in, what was once a serene minimalist background, now filled with screaming curious children.

For me, many days look the same, except I awake with less energy from the day before, determined to carry on even more tasks. Awake but more tired, the children with more strength and excitement and even when it finally feels silent, just one more question, and one more question.

… So, it’s not just me, who might have sleepwalked these past years and is constantly accosted with the anxiety of needing to ‘catch up’. I always knew, that motherhood is one of those passages you go down where you can never find your [former] ‘self’ again. How could you, when in your body you carried both heart and soul. Two souls inside one body. How could you ever be the same again?

@amk

I have been caught up in the World Cup Football series. I found that I had a lot of love to give to any team that played on the fringes of love, the underdog. When Congo made it past their first match, I found myself dancing Lingala to the screen with pride. “Mummy’s best team is Congo.” All that the world knew about Congo before was Ebola. Supposedly, the wild bush meat they had been eating for generations, yet again, turned into dis-ease and there were efforts in the media to spread a Congo-phobia in order to send a handful of humanitarian aid using a long stick and keep them away from the rest of the world. With Hanta virus, the people on the cruise ship had been released without detail of race or ethnicity. It was just a disease, just a cruise ship, but Ebola, had become a people.

As the teams became fewer, the media’s sob story of underprivileged, poverty stricken Cape Verde’s Vozinha having been well wrung out- the celebrity superstar culture searched for bigger candidates pitting individuals against individuals rather than discussing matches as being between nations. It was Haaland versus Mbappe, Christiano, Messi, Kane and then Bellingham. They had also mistakenly fixed their attention to a USA grown Folarin Balogun twisting the rules so that they too would join in an Americanised Norway kind of patriotic dance, but patriotism is not [supposed to be] skin deep and also Balogun would need an entire team to play, a team that included an efficient goal keeper.

When France lost yesterday, it was crashing, in a football kind of way. Kylian Mbappe predicted, with historical backing I believe, that they would be received gloriously if they had won but trashed when they lost. No sooner had he finished his press conference than the hypotheses began. One newspaper in New York has a headline saying France was ‘totally outclassed’ by Spain and this was apparently ‘no accident’. The racial undertones of this are appalling and not just painful. In the days leading up to the match, the France team had been bullied and picked on for not being the right colour for their country. All was fair and would be kindly forgotten, only if they would bring the trophy home; but the France team had more to prove than the average team. When they were at the top, they were described as an ‘exceptionally strong squad currently at the top of FIFA rankings’. When they were failed to enter the final, their citizenship, their ethnicity will be more in question using the tongue in cheek- ‘class’ and success as an ‘accident’.

Some African teams in the World Cup had been described as playing ‘wild’ football, some players described as just being ‘strong’ physically in direct juxtaposition to being tactical or intelligent. Their strength viewed and discussed as a threat and a limited use weapon as in the case of Lukaku for Belgium and yet, in Haaland for Norway, magnified as a statue of Viking strength and power, and even displayed on Fox Sports with Haaland on a throne wearing Viking horns.

France, a team with the most African-descended players, under a policy which allows footballers to play by citizenship and not descent, which of course France, Europe and now America has happily and successfully exploited, are the hired help. When they lose, it’s not a country’s loss, it’s not the coach, it’s not a normal unpredictable football clash of giants, it’s a class issue, a race issue. Paraguay’s mayor was loud, the Spanish Prime Minister was formal. America’s way? Psychological drain through a cobweb of properly misstated issues.

@amk