For a very long time, the overhandled story of Numantia has occupied a central place in the repertoire of national political rhetoric. It is cited in such a reduced, schematic way that it borders on the grotesque. The citadel stood on a hill slightly over one kilometer above sea level. At its foot lies today the village of Garray, barely sixty meters lower—modern, pragmatic.

In Sapiens (From Animals into Gods: A Brief History of Humankind), the Israeli historian Yuval Noah Harari advances a disturbing yet lucid idea about the function of empires in history: imperial systems are neither pure evil nor pure progress. They conquer, repress, dominate, and exploit—but they also weave global networks: routes, rules, currencies, lingua francas, infrastructure, commercial circuits, the circulation of technologies and ideas, culture, art, and knowledge.

Watching the American Alex Honnold perched on the skyscraper tower in Taipei—508 meters high—immediately carried me to the image of King Kong. With one difference: the latter has an intellectual author, the filmmaker Merian C. Cooper, who directed the original 1933 film alongside Ernest B. Schoedsack for RKO Radio Pictures...

Perhaps since the beginning of time, yet within the landscape of contemporary visual culture, polemic, interpellation, and reply operate as devices of symbolic production that act directly upon the processes of meaning and the circulation of images. These controversies, or provocations—beyond merely situating themselves within a context that already shapes the imago—become structuring agents that reconfigure spaces of reading...

R10 has invited me to collaborate on his project. I understood that, in order to be attuned to the spirit of this community—eager to find a certain pleasure seasoned with a Creole inflection—one had to think carefully when choosing the subject, and also when attempting to share observations that would neither sound grandiloquent, taste of formula, nor resemble verdicts issued by juries...

It is 18 degrees in Cincinnati right now—remarkably close to the record high for a December 26: 20 degrees Celsius, registered in 2016. No snow. It would be tempting to invoke climate change if I were looking for a quarrel, but I’ve just come off several days of snow. I lack serious arguments to do so. Snow is beautiful, as are snow-covered landscapes—especially when the sun is out and the air stands still.

Sargon of Akkad’s grandson was born hunchbacked. His grandfather had raised the first known empire, anchored in the lands of ancient Mesopotamia. He was fond of the boy, and let him do whatever he pleased. When he strode peacock-proud through the palace corridors, the servants—because of his short stature—bowed as he passed.

Trying to find something even mildly interesting on the platforms for a quiet December night, I stop at what appears to be the latest cinematic version of the mythical Superman. I read that it was written and directed by James Gunn and released last July, just this past summer. I also note that it has enjoyed a favorable reception from both critics and audiences.

Over the past two weeks, I have seen this photograph reproduced again and again across an overwhelming number of news outlets. I cannot say it impresses me from a technical standpoint—far from it. And yet it unsettles me in a way very little manages to these days. It is likely to be chosen among the year’s most striking images. Even if it isn’t, it already belongs to my private selection.