the paradox [Theme]

The paradox of life is that young people with speakers always play music that you don’t like.

... You lied in the name of truth. Bitter paradox! And if you count, it turns out that your truth was fed by lies all the time.

There is a curious paradox - when I accept myself as I am, I change. I think the experience of many clients, as well as my own, has taught me this, namely, that we do not change until we unconditionally accept ourselves for who we really are. And then the change happens almost imperceptibly.

The paradox is that slimming bars are great for helping you gain weight.

Making a decision is always so much less energy-consuming and so much more inspiring than pushing it away and feeling sorry for yourself.

And no matter how much I wanted to believe that there is truth behind illusions, I finally realized that there is no truth behind illusions. Because between “reality” on the one hand and the point at which reality and reason converge, there is a certain intermediate zone, an iridescent edge where beauty comes to life, where two completely different surfaces merge, are captured and give us something that life cannot give us : in this very space all art, all magic exists. And - I bet that's all love. Or, to be more precise, the intermediate zone shows us the fundamental paradox of love. Close up: A freckled hand on a black coat, an origami frog flopped to one side. A step back - and again an immortal illusion creeps in: about life is greater than life. And between them - the gap - is Pippa herself, she is both love and non-love, she is here and not here. Photos on the wall, a crumpled sock under the sofa. The moment when I reached out to remove the fluff from her hair, and she laughed and dodged me. And just as music is an internotic space, just as the stars are beautiful due to the distances between them, just as the sun at a certain angle beats a ray into a raindrop and throws a prism of light into the sky - so is the space in which I exist, where I would like to stay further, is exactly in that middle zone, where despair clashes with the purest otherness and something sublime is born.

- Good. Imagine that I am a paradox inside a time anomaly and enjoy your tea.

Hoffmann anticipated Wilde's paradox that theater does not arise from life, but life comes from theater. From the theater of the absurd, in which playwrights and directors are future fathers.

Most likely, we are alone in the galaxy. Advanced life, quite possibly the only one in the galaxy. And the Fermi paradox that if there are to be aliens, where are they? Why don't we see them? This is not a paradox, but a completely natural phenomenon associated with a negligible probability of the origin of life. But the paltry probability doesn't mean that life shouldn't have appeared at all. The universe is huge. It's virtually infinite. If we take Kunin's estimate, 10-1000, we are the only ones in the horizon of the Universe. So what? The universe is many, many orders of magnitude wider than this horizon and the number of universes with similar laws of nature that allow life is also likely infinite. So, no matter how small the probability was, it had to come true somewhere, because of the infinite number of possible attempts.

You have to experiment to create innovation. If you want more inventions, do more experiments during the week, month, year, decade. Of course, most experiments fail. But mistakes are necessary attempts to do something new, to prove something, to verify something. Young children are very creative - they try crazy things. As a child, we are all not afraid to try, and then someone loses this ability. The ingenuity paradox is that you need to be an expert in the field, but at the same time have a beginner's mindset. Sometimes it’s worth taking a step back and asking: if this was my first time doing this, what exactly would I be hooked on here?

- Apparently, because they do not make unpleasant remarks.

- You are not alone.

The paradox: things you can live without - books, art, cinema, wine, and so on - are necessary to survive.

The paradox of the existence of the Russian state: with all the obvious imperfection of its policy, during most stages of its history the state plays a more positive and fundamental role than all kinds of analogues of “civil society”. This fully applies to the modern Russian state. One of the most imperfect in Russian history, corrupt, not fully understanding its strategic goals, acting at times openly disgusting, it is nevertheless more useful and necessary than all other alternative forms of organizing social life. The reason is that the role of the state in Russia is always essential, while the role of other social forms is essential at best. Outside the state and without the state, the lot of Russia is dissolution in the world space, nothingness.