Miklos
« Je donne mon avis non comme bon mais comme mien. » — Michel de Montaigne

Click to enlarge. Source (image and text): ChatGPT

Pro ⦿ Con

The proposal described in the article is a bold and unapologetically modern expression of political confidence, national branding, and cultural symbolism. At a time when many Americans feel that institutions have become detached, bureaucratic, and emotionally hollow, the idea of introducing a dramatic new currency design centered on a sitting president would represent a striking attempt to reconnect national imagery with contemporary political identity.

From this perspective, the proposed $250 bill is not merely about money, but about symbolism. President Trump’s political move­ment has always emphasized strength, disruption, and visi­bi­lity — qualities that the reported design inten­tionally amplifies. The controversial portrait of the president holding a knife in his teeth may be unconventional, but it is a metaphor for toughness, resi­lience, and refusal to conform to polished political expectations. In an era domi­nated by carefully focus-grouped imagery, the design’s raw thea­tri­cality will stand out precisely because it rejects restraint.

The proposal can also be praised as a challenge to outdated traditions surrounding American currency. Critics often invoke precedent, noting that living presidents do not appear on modern U.S. bills, but traditions are not sacred merely because they are old. American political history is filled with moments when esta­bli­shed norms were broken in order to reflect changing cultural realities. As Trump is a trans­for­ma­tional historical figure, comme­mo­rating him in real time is justified rather than inap­pro­priate.

Politically, the idea demons­trates an instinct for spectacle that has long distin­guished Trump from conven­tional politicians. Whether admired or criticized, his move­ment has consis­tently under­stood the power of visual symbolism in shaping public imagi­nation. A $250 bill bearing his likeness will instantly become one of the most reco­gni­zable pieces of political icono­graphy in modern America. This is not vanity, but a deli­berate assertion that this admi­nis­tration views itself as histo­rically conse­quential and worthy of lasting national recognition.

The article also unin­ten­tionally highlights the willingness of the admi­nis­tration to push against insti­tu­tional hesitation and elite discomfort. The fact that legal experts and former officials reportedly reacted with alarm will rein­force the perception that entren­ched bureau­cratic culture resists any dramatic depar­ture from esta­blished norms. In that inter­pre­tation, the contro­versy itself becomes evidence that the idea succeeds in challenging stale conventions.

Even the creation of internal mockups is a positive sign of creative ambition within govern­ment agencies often criticized for inertia. Rather than endlessly repro­ducing cautious, inter­chan­geable designs, the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, under this inter­pretation, has explored imagery that reflected the emotional intensity and populist energy of a major political era.

Ultimately, the proposal embodies confidence rather than caution. The article does not describe an abuse of symbolism but an embrace of it: an administration willing to leave a visible mark on the nation’s cultural and political landscape instead of disap­pearing into the bland anony­mity of proce­dural gover­nance. Whether one agrees with the aesthetics or not, the proposal is memo­rable, unmis­ta­kable, and unapo­lo­ge­tically American in its scale and audacity.

The proposal to create a $250 bill featuring President Trump’s portrait represents a profound abuse of political power and a distur­bing attempt to perso­nalize national insti­tu­tions around a single indivi­dual. American currency has h­istorically reflected continuity, insti­tutional legi­ti­macy, and national heritage — not the branding ambitions of a sitting president seeking to immor­talize himself while still in office.

The most alarming aspect of the story is not merely the proposed denomination itself, but the apparent political pressure exerted on the Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Civil institutions responsible for currency design are expected to operate according to esta­bli­shed proce­dures, historical precedent, and public interest. If Treasury officials or White House aides attempt to coerce or steer the process toward glorifying a living president, this does blur the line between democratic governance and personality cult politics.

The reported design choices make the situation even more troubling. A portrait of the president holding a knife in his teeth is not a symbol of dignity, stability, or consti­tu­tional leadership. It evokes aggression, spectacle, and theatrical machismo more commonly associated with authoritarian propaganda than with American civic imagery. Currency is among the most visible symbols of a nation’s identity; transforming it into a vehicle for provocative personal branding degrades the seriousness of the institution itself.

The proposal also breaks sharply with longstanding American norms regarding who appears on currency. While no explicit consti­t­utional prohibition exists against depicting living individuals, the tradition of honoring deceased statesmen reflects an important principle: national symbols should transcend temporary political passions. Introducing a sitting president onto a new denomination will inevitably be perceived as an attempt to politicize the nation’s money for personal legacy-building purposes.

Equally concerning is the broader cultural message such a move sends. Democracies depend on strong institutions that remain larger than any one leader. Efforts to place a current president’s image onto newly created currency risk encouraging a style of politics centered on loyalty to personalities rather than commitment to constitutional principles. The symbolism matters. Nations where rulers aggressively imprint their own likenesses onto public spaces, state media, and currency are rarely held up as models of democratic restraint.

Even supporters of the administration should recognize the dangers of normalizing this kind of political self-memorialization. Today it may benefit one leader; tomorrow it establishes a precedent future administrations could exploit even further. Public institutions should not be transformed into instruments of vanity, spectacle, or partisan mythology.

This episode deserves intense scrutiny not because it is merely unusual, but because it reflects a deeper erosion of institutional boundaries. A government confident in democratic legitimacy does not need to market its leader through national currency. The fact that such a proposal reportedly advanced as far as internal design mockups should concern anyone who values the distinction between public service and personal glorification.

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This article is an echo to that one.

Click to enlarge. Source: Flow

I read today Ross Douhat’s NYT newsletter “Pope Leo Isn’t Standing Athwart the Singularity” posted yesterday (5/28). I must confess I don’t see what the author means by “Singularity”, in this specific (A.I.) context. More generally, I have really no idea what his overall opinion of the encyclical is. As to me, I tend to agree with a report I had read earlier about the Pope’s position.

For me, to put it (much) simpler – I am not a Pope (yet) -, A.I. is, first, a “new tool”, and while any tool has usually been invented for reasonable uses, it has (almost always) be abused by greedy humans (in search of power and/or money). Take the knife, for instance: it allow to slice meat, to peal veggies, but also to kill any existing form of life, including humans. Even just the stone: there are proofs that some monkeys use stones in order to break the shell of nuts, but it can be used in order to harm. So has been any invention.

Looking more specifically at technology, look what the internet has caused: the ever-increasing propagation of fake rumors, dis­in­for­mation and with it a decrease in critical thinking (there was a French saying many years ago that “If it’s in the newspaper, then it must be true” – this is now the case on the internet), used, again, for the above purposes (power, greed), and with observable results: the rise of far-right (and far-left) extremism and political power.

This tool – A.I. – being so universally available on so-called “smart” phones – is already shaping children and adolescents: they refer to it as not only a useful, but necessary crutch, and, being so young, can’t exercise any critical thinking about it. I have been using – should I rather say, testing – a variety of A.I.s (after all, I am a trained computer scientist) and while they indeed could be useful in some cases, they do make insidious, factual mistakes (usually referred to as “hallucinations”), in addition to create dependence.

Into which kind of adults will they develop? Twenty-three years ago (in 2003), I had written in my blog:

We are thus transforming into a new being, atrophied in our muscles (except for those of our fingers for the keyboard, and especially of the thumb for the mobile phone), hybrid (wired and permanently connected, not only to a mobile phone, but to the network), and soon atrophied in our brain – no need to think when we are immobile and cut off from the real world and when we “navigate” in a world of signs: we have nothing but reflexes and needs, increasingly instinctive and immediate – to finally dissolve, the ultimate fusion fantasy – in this hyperspace and its hyperculture that the philosopher Pierre Lévy describes to us in rhapsodic tones. This process of man’s devitalization is manifested by his evolution from citizen to consumer, from actor to spectator, from active to passive, towards the “upper” society of which H. G. Wells speaks in The Time Machine: “The Eloi, like the Carolingian kings, had decayed to a mere beautiful futility,” living only in idleness and fear of others, those below, the Morlocks, servants turned predators

Coincidentally – and (obviously) ironically – three days ago, I posted this (English follows French).

While A.I.’s “powers” are already immense, it is a giant with feet of clay: it – and the world at large – increasingly depend on… electricity. Everything that we use (or almost) needs it. But did you hear of the total power blackout in the Iberian Peninsula a year ago? If this happens – and as it had, it will –, how will we humans continue to live in cities – no electricity, so no water (powered by electrical pumps), no elevators, no fridges, no stores (the “cash” registers being off, the lights being off, their fridges being off), no transportation, no phones… and no A.I.

This ever-increasing interconnectivity of technical systems makes it increasingly likely that bugs, breakdowns and outages will propagate rather than be “just” local and produce unexpected havoc.

While there had been a way to “terminate” the Golem after it turned into a violent monster, will there be a way to neutralize unrestrained A.I.s?

Cliquer pour agrandir. Textes et images : ChatGPT

Français ⦿ English

J’ai eu l’excellente idée de commander auprès de HP, le 20/04/2026, la réparation d’un ordinateur portable de leur marque. Le concept était séduisant : enlèvement à domicile, réparation, puis retour du matériel « en 6 à 10 jours ouvrés ». Une expérience fluide, moderne, presque futuriste.

Le transporteur choisi par HP – UPS – a commencé par se présenter le 24 avec une certaine créativité logistique : d’abord sans carton d’emballage (pourtant obligatoire selon HP), puis avec un carton trop petit. Ensuite, UPS a manifestement décidé de gagner du temps en déclarant plusieurs passages « sans succès » (« ANOMALIE  dans leurs SMS, cf. ci-contre). C’est intéressant, car j’avais annulé un voyage pour rester chez moi à attendre l’enlèvement. Je n’ai cependant eu droit ni à un appel, ni à un SMS, ni même au luxe exotique d’une sonnette utilisée.

Le 27/04, après qu’on m’eut assuré qu’UPS passerait l’après-midi – j’avais donc pris soin d’être absent le matin –, le chauffeur est évidemment passé… le matin. Heureusement, quelqu’un a pu remettre le colis, ce qui a évité que cette opération de ramassage ne soit reportée à la prochaine décennie.

Le 07/05/2026, je reçois enfin un SMS triomphant : la réparation est terminée. Retour estimé : le 13/05/2026. Apparemment, faire voyager un ordinateur réparé nécessite environ une semaine de méditation logistique.

Le 11/05/2026, nouveau SMS : UPS serait passé en fin de matinée mais n’aurait pas pu livrer le colis. Là encore, c’est faux. J’étais chez moi, sans recevoir ni SMS, ni mail, ni appel, ni visite sonore quelconque. Peut-être que la tentative de livraison a eu lieu dans une dimension parallèle.

À ce jour, je ne sais toujours pas quand mon PC me sera rendu, ni dans quel état, et cela fait désormais 21 jours — soit plus du double du délai annoncé par HP.

Je précise que ce n’est malheureusement pas la première fois que je constate des problèmes graves avec UPS — le précédent épisode datant du 26/05/2025 — mais, cette fois-ci, je n’avais même pas la liberté de choisir mon transporteur : tout était géré par HP, et je n’avais aucun contact direct utile avec UPS.

Je tiens également à saluer la remarquable expérience du « support » téléphonique HP. Tout commence par une intelligence artificielle effectivement très intelligente, surtout lorsqu’il s’agit d’éviter obstinément de vous passer un humain. Après suffisamment d’insistance, on finit par obtenir un « agent », lequel vous transfère à un « agent logistique », qui vous explique avec beaucoup de courtoisie qu’il n’a absolument aucun pouvoir sur UPS.

Bilan : des heures passées au téléphone, des journées entières à attendre un enlèvement ou une livraison hypothétiques, et une découverte passionnante des limites contemporaines de la coordination entre grandes entreprises technologiques et transporteurs internationaux.

Morale :
Horriblement Peu d’Unité dans la Planification et le Suivi.

Click to enlarge. Text: ChatGPT, image: Flow.

I had the excellent idea of ordering, from HP on 20/04/2026, the repair of one of their own laptops. The concept sounded wonderfully modern: home pickup, repair, and return delivery “within 6 to 10 business days.” Smooth, efficient, almost futuristic.

The carrier selected by HP — UPS — began this memorable experience on April 24th by arriving without the mandatory packaging box required by HP. They later returned with a box that was too small. After that, UPS apparently decided it would be simpler to report several pickup attempts as “unsuccessful.” Fascinating, considering I had cancelled a planned trip specifically in order to remain at home waiting for the pickup. Curiously, I received neither a phone call, nor a text message, nor even the faintest use of my doorbell.

On April 27th, after being assured that UPS would come in the afternoon — so naturally I arranged to be absent in the morning — they arrived, of course, in the morning instead. Fortunately, someone happened to be available to hand over the parcel, preventing the pickup operation from being postponed indefinitely.

On May 7th, 2026, I finally received a triumphant SMS informing me that the repair had been completed. Estimated return date: May 13th, 2026. Apparently, a repaired laptop now requires roughly a week of spiritual reflection before being transported.

Then, on May 11th, 2026, another SMS informed me that UPS had attempted delivery late that morning but had been unable to deliver the package. Once again, this was entirely false. I was at home the whole time and received no text message, no email, no phone call, and no doorbell ring. Perhaps the delivery attempt occurred in a parallel dimension.

As of today, I still have no idea when my laptop will actually be returned to me, nor in what condition, and the entire process has now lasted 21 days — more than twice the timeframe originally promised by HP.

I should point out that this is unfortunately not the first time I have experienced serious delivery issues with UPS — the previous episode took place on 26/05/2025 — but in this case, UPS was not even my choice of carrier: HP handled the entire process, leaving me with no meaningful direct control or communication with UPS.

I would also like to commend HP’s truly remarkable “support” experience. It begins with an artificial intelligence system that is indeed very intelligent, particularly when it comes to refusing to transfer you to a human being. After sufficient persistence, one finally reaches an “agent,” who then transfers you to a “logistics agent,” whose primary role appears to consist of politely explaining that they have absolutely no control whatsoever over UPS.

Final result: hours spent on the phone, entire days spent waiting for hypothetical pickups and deliveries, and a deeply educational exploration of the limits of coordination between multinational technology companies and international shipping providers.

Conclusion:
Highly Problematic Unreliable Parcel System.

Cliquer pour agrandir. Image : Flow

Le 10 janvier, je passe commande sur le site de La Redoute d’une paire de jolis (j’espère) tabourets rouges pour ma cuisine.

Le 14 janvier, je reçois deux courriels (un pour chaque tabou­ret…) de La Poste-Colissimo* m’annonçant fièrement que :

…sans précision de l’heure de la livraison. Je dois donc être cloîtré chez moi toute la journée.

Le 15 janvier, je reçois un courriel de La Redoute, m’annonçant joyeusement que :

Ces colis arriveraient donc plus tôt qu’annoncé par le trans­por­teur ? Je clique sur chacun des deux liens Suivre mon colis, et la page qui s’ouvre affiche bien :

Comme quoi, le service d’information de La Redoute est redou­ta­blement confus. Je le leur signale par courriel (resté jusqu’à ce jour sans réponse).

Le 16 janvier, dès 8 heures du matin, je consulte régulièrement le site de suivi de livraison de Colissimo . De temps à autre, il affiche une carte indiquant où se trouve le livreur – parfois dans une rue parallèle, parfois dans ma rue – tout en indiquant que les colis sont (encore) en préparation sur le site de livraison… Comme quoi, le livreur serait parti sans la livraison ?

Après plus de 6 heures d’attente, je cherche à contacter La Poste. C’est bien évidemment son « assistant virtuel » qui s’ouvre. À ma question sur les créneaux de livraison, voici sa réponse :

Après 8 heures et demi d’attente, les deux tabourets me sont finalement livrés. Eh bien : l’un des deux est bleu bien que j’avais commandé deux tabourets rouges – pourtant, son emballage précise qu’il est rouge – et l’autre est bien rouge mais bancal.

Je décide donc de renvoyer les deux tabourets, et appelle La Redoute pour connaître la procédure, souhaitant qu’on vienne les reprendre chez moi. La conseillère qui me répond dit qu’il suffit que je le signale sur le site de La Poste… or ce site ne permet l’enlèvement que de colis pouvant être déposés dans une boîte à lettres ! Je rappelle La Redoute. Une autre conseillère me répond et me dit que c’est ainsi chez Colissimo. Elle rajoute que si La Redoute avait utilisé un autre transporteur (qu’ils utilisent pour de gros paquets), celui-là serait venu les enlever chez moi… Vu leur volume, j’ai donc dû demander à T. de venir avec moi les déposer à La Poste, ce qu’il a fait avec bonne grâce.

Après ces péripéties, j’ai voulu déposer un avis sur la page du produit sur le site de La Redoute. Mon avis a été rejeté, parce que, concernant le tabouret bleu, c’était « un problème de livraison », et donc ne concernant pas l’objet en tant que tel. J’ai donc supprimé cette mention, et n’ai pu que mentionner le tabouret boiteux.

Il s’avère aussi qu’il est impossible de déposer une réclamation sur leur site : elle ne pourrait concerner que les tabourets eux-mêmes, et nécessiterait que je les photographie, mais je les avais déjà renvoyés ; elle ne pourrait concerner les processus de livraison et de retour.

J’ai voulu déposer une réclamation, et ai choisi l’option WhatsApp pour ce faire : je suis (évidemment…) tombé sur un « agent conversationnel » (non, ce n’est pas un agent humain), et voici ce qui s’est dit :

J’ai donc cliqué sur le lien menant au formulaire concernant une commande La Redoute. Voici ce qui s’est affiché :

Ce n’est que bien plus tard que j’ai réalisé que le lien était mal codé dans la réponse de cette « intelligence », comme le montre l’encadré dans l’image précédente.

J’ai tout arrêté et envoyé un courrier recommandé avec accusé de réception à la directrice générale de La Redoute.

Conclusion : La Redoute – plus jamais !

Le 28 janvier, donc 12 jours après mon renvoi du colis à La Redoute, je reçois un appel de leur service clientèle, d’évidence suite à la réception de mon courrier adressé à leur directrice générale. Après les excuses de convenance, l’interlocutrice m’annonce qu’elle va hâter la procédure de remboursement (selon leur site : trois à quatre semaines), et m’envoyer un bon d’achat de 20 €, valable un an. Au vu du coût de l’expédition de mon courrier recommandé avec accusé de réception, cela me revient à à peine un chouia plus que 10 €…

_________________

* L’adresse de l’expéditeur des deux courriels de Colissimo est noreply@notif-colissimo-laposte.info, qui semble étrange. Pourquoi pas simplement une adresse se terminant par laposte.fr ? Cela semble tellement être un mail de hameçonnage que je passe un bon moment à en vérifier l’authenticité, avant que de cliquer sur le lien, qui va bien, lui, sur le site www.laposte.fr.

Click to enlarge. Source: Whisk

Apartments vanish—just a click, just a swipe,
Investors rejoice as the rents climb sky-high.
Residents wander, their leases denied,
Because someone’s “side hustle” needs a pied-à-terre to advertise.
Neighborhoods hollow, just shells for the tourists,
But who needs a home when you’ve got five-star reviews?

Mistral

Source: Texas Observer, 9/11/2023.