All articles written in English on the Zy Yazan Platform
Religion is no longer a matter of private faith or spiritual need. Today it is shaped by geopolitics, packaged as a consumer product, and sold on social media. Walter Stace, a British philosopher who died in 1967, spent his life asking the questions that might still save us from this confusion — if we are willing to listen.
On a crowded Damascus bus, an empty seat waited for him, and a child he had never met. Between them was something that resembled what had once existed between him and his grandfather at sunset — a staring that needed no explanation.
When a philosopher jumped into a river to save a cat, and when an actor stood before the world to speak for a cow — neither was showing weakness. Both were proving their humanity was still alive. Compassion toward the weakest creatures is not a moral luxury. It is the oldest and most precise measure of how far a human being has truly come.
Jack Dorsey just told 4,000 people their jobs no longer exist — not because the company is struggling, but because it is thriving. This is not the first time a technology has rewritten the rules of work overnight. It is, however, the first time a CEO has said so this openly. The question is not whether AI will change everything. It already has. The question is who pays the price — and who decides how to share what comes next.
A 67-year-old language still processes your ATM transactions today. A corporation built its fortune on being the only one who truly understood it. Then one morning, a program announced it could read what only specialists once could. This was not an ordinary tech story — it was a moment when the question of who owns knowledge, and who sells it, quietly shifted.
There is a simple question that can open doors we never knew existed: Why does Eastern tradition name its characters after what they mean?
This is not an oversight. It is not coincidence. It is a method — and understanding this method is the real key to entering One Thousand and One Nights, not through the back door of entertainment, but through the front door of thought.
Before we reach Scheherazade, we must first understand the law she operates by.
Human beings forget — and this is not a flaw in the design, it is the design. But artificial intelligence never forgets. Not because it is powerful, but because forgetting was simply never programmed into it. Every photo, every angry comment, every late-night search is stored somewhere in servers that never sleep and never feel sorry. Is forgetting still a blessing when every moment is recorded forever?
Through a minimalist science-fiction narrative, the film transforms artificial intelligence into a philosophical mirror, questioning consciousness, ethics, and the fragile boundary between code and what humans call the soul.
From the cages of 19th-century Europe to the digital platforms of today, this article explores the tragic story of Sara Baartman as a mirror for modern ‘digital slavery.’ It analyzes how the human body and personal data are transformed into a display screen for exploitation, calling for a moral review of our technical progress.
AI-generated portraits are not simple copies of our faces; they are statistical interpretations shaped by internet aesthetics. This trend exposes the gap between human understanding and machine probability, while raising deeper questions about identity and self-image in the digital age.
