unwritten words

 Have you ever wondered what it would be like to lose everything stored on your computer? All those documents, photos, projects—gone in an instant. It’s a terrifying thought, one that most people don’t really dwell on until it’s too late. But why do we take such risks with our digital lives? Let me ask you this: When was the last time you backed up your data? And no, I’m not talking about that occasional transfer of photos to an external hard drive whenever you remember. I mean a systematic, foolproof backup strategy. We often underestimate the fragility of our digital world, assuming that our data is safe simply because it's on a modern device. But is that really enough? The Simple Genius of the 3-2-1 Rule This is where the 3-2-1 backup rule comes in. It’s a strategy that’s as simple as it is effective: 3 copies of your data. 2 different types of storage. 1 off-site backup. Why three copies? Because redundancy is your safety net. If one copy gets corrupted, you have two more to

 Have you ever noticed that some ideas immediately grab your attention, while others barely register? It’s like your brain is wired to react differently depending on what’s in front of you. But here’s the question: could that initial burst of excitement be a reliable way to decide which ideas are worth your time and energy? I’ve been thinking a lot about how excitability can serve as a filter for deciding which ideas to pursue. If you’re like me, you probably find yourself constantly bombarded by thoughts and possibilities—some of them are exciting, some not so much. But in a world full of potential distractions, how do you know which ones are worth pursuing? Maybe the answer lies in listening to your excitement. Let’s start by acknowledging something: not all ideas are created equal. Some ideas hit you like a lightning bolt, making your heart race and your mind spin with possibilities. Others feel more like a dull thud—interesting, maybe, but not exactly thrilling. It’s easy to dismis

 Let’s talk about traditions and why they might be more important than we often give them credit for. We live in a world that’s obsessed with innovation and breaking away from the past. There’s this constant push to do things differently, to stand out, to be unique. And while that mindset can be great in many areas, when it comes to health and survival, sometimes the old ways really do know best. Think about something as fundamental as hygiene. It’s something we all practice without much thought, but it’s deeply rooted in tradition. For centuries, people have developed rituals around cleanliness—not because they understood the science behind it, but because these practices worked. They kept communities healthy and safe long before modern medicine came along. Now, imagine you decide to challenge these traditions. Maybe you think, “Why should I follow these old ways? I’ll find my own path.” So, you start cutting corners—maybe you don’t wash your hands as often, or you skip some basic hyg

 Have you ever wondered why search engines work the way they do? I mean, sure, we type a few words into Google, and voilà, we get pages upon pages of results. But if you've ever thought about what drives those results to the top of the page, you'll probably think of backlinks—how many other websites link to a particular page. It's a bit like a popularity contest, isn't it? The more friends (or backlinks) a website has, the more likely it is to be at the top of the list. But does that really mean it's giving us the best information? What if There Was a Different Way? Imagine a search engine that wasn't based on backlinks but on information theory. What if, instead of popularity, it focused on the amount of surprise or unexpected value it could bring to the user? Let's call it "Surprise Search." Think about it for a second. What if every time you searched for something, you didn't just get what everyone else was talking about, but rather, somethi

 I’ve been reflecting on this idea that’s been lingering in my mind for quite a while now: the notion of unlearning fiction. At first glance, it might sound strange. Why would anyone need to unlearn fiction? Isn't fiction meant to expand our horizons, to immerse us in different worlds, and to offer an escape from the mundane reality we live in? But here’s the thing: I've started to see fiction, especially the kind of polished, neatly wrapped fiction sold by Disney and other entertainment giants, as something that can distort our understanding of the real world. How did I come to this realization? It wasn't an overnight epiphany. It took years of consuming countless stories, movies, and TV shows that promised happy endings and neatly resolved conflicts. Then I started noticing a gap—a chasm—between the world I saw on screen and the world I lived in. My real-life experiences were often messy, unresolved, and, quite frankly, disappointing. I began questioning why I felt a cert

Have you ever wondered why we humans complicate things so much? Why our thoughts twist and turn, making simple things feel like they're wrapped in layers of code that don't make sense? Sometimes I find myself staring at the ceiling, trying to unravel these tangles, feeling like a programmer with a bug in their system. And that's when it hit me: What if philosophy is just a debugger for life? What Does It Mean to Debug Life? In programming, debugging is the process of identifying and removing errors from code. So, if life is a system—full of rules, inputs, outputs, and unexpected errors—then maybe philosophy is how we find and fix those bugs. It’s like a toolset for thinking clearly, for questioning assumptions, and for untangling the knot in the chest that we often feel without knowing why. You know, the knot I'm talking about. The one that sits there when I wake up at 5 PM, after a long night that bleeds into morning, with coffee and a couple of cigarettes. It’s that f

 Can we really talk about making money? We know that money doesn’t just materialize out of thin air; it comes from doing transactions. Here’s a question to consider: Is there such a thing as a truly win-win transaction? Can both parties in a deal walk away equally satisfied, or does profit inherently mean that someone is getting the short end of the stick? If that’s the case, is it even possible to make money ethically in a world that revolves around profit? The Illusion of the Win-Win Let’s start with the idea of a win-win transaction. In theory, it sounds perfect. Two parties come together, each with something to offer, and they both walk away feeling better off. It’s the cornerstone of most business deals. We’re told that capitalism is built on the idea that voluntary transactions benefit everyone involved. But if we dig a little deeper, is that really true? Consider the famous example of Bill Gates and IBM. In the early days of Microsoft, Gates managed to secure a deal with IBM to

Have you ever found yourself at a crossroads, paralyzed by indecision, and then eagerly turned to others for advice? It’s a natural reaction. We seek guidance from friends, family, mentors, or even strangers on the internet, hoping they have the answers we can’t find on our own. But what if I told you that advice, while well-intentioned, might actually be making us less capable of thinking clearly and independently? What if the layers of advice we accumulate over time become a fog, obscuring our ability to think from first principles? Let's break this down. Why do we seek advice in the first place? Often, it's because we're uncertain. We crave certainty and look for someone who seems to have it. But what if that certainty is just an illusion? What if advice isn't a one-size-fits-all solution but a one-size-fits-one? Advice often reflects the adviser’s experiences, biases, and circumstances, not ours. It’s like borrowing a pair of shoes; they might fit, but more often th

  Sitting in a café in the old medina, my laptop open, fingers flying over the keyboard as I debug a particularly tricky piece of code.  The aroma of mint tea mingles with the scent of old books and spices. The rhythms of traditional life play out - shopkeepers calling to passersby, the distant sound of the call to prayer. And there I am,... straddling two realities.   It's in moments like these that I wonder: Where do I really belong? Am I more a part of the bustling, traditional Morocco that surrounds me, or the global, digital world that occupies my mind? Living in a space that doesn't quite have a name. A peculiar sensation… Being suspended between two worlds, neither here nor there. That's where I find myself these days - caught in a cultural limbo that's uniquely Moroccan and yet, somehow,... not quite.   Do I belong to either.   My family doesn't get, why I'm always tapping away at my laptop, talking about things like "algorithms"

Sometimes I wonder if the ultimate goal of existence is to maximize difference. Observing the world and the systems humans have built, it seems that the more pronounced the material and immaterial differences, the greater the rewards. Take, for example, a university professor. The knowledge they accumulate sets them apart from their students, creating a difference that is rewarded. The more knowledge they acquire, the more this difference grows, and consequently, the more they are rewarded. This dynamic is also evident among students. Those who manage to distinguish themselves by accumulating knowledge or skills that set them apart from their peers increase their chances of future success, assuming these differences are positive and valued by society. In essence, the lecture itself is an exercise in minimizing the knowledge gap between the professor and the students. However, if we could somehow eliminate this difference instantly, the system would collapse. The entire educational inst

Have you ever found yourself obsessively checking your Ikariam town at 2 AM, making sure your virtual citizens have enough wine? I have. And it got me thinking - what's really going on here? Let's face it, Ikariam isn't just a game. It's a digital microcosm of our modern lives, complete with resource management, diplomacy, and the constant pressure to expand and improve. But why does it grip us so tightly? Consider this: In our day-to-day lives, how often do we get to see the direct results of our efforts? We work, we study, we strive, but tangible progress often feels elusive. Enter Ikariam, where every action has an immediate, visible consequence. Plant a vineyard, get wine. Upgrade a building, see it grow. It's instant gratification in a world that often denies us that luxury. But here's the kicker - is this virtual productivity actually fulfilling us, or just distracting us? As someone who's spent years in tech, I've seen firsthand how digital experi

Have you ever thought about what it really means to be a network engineer? I mean, beyond the technical stuff—the cables, the routers, the protocols—what’s the bigger picture here? Sometimes I wonder if we’re just cogs in this massive machine, keeping everything running, but never really questioning where it’s all headed. When I first got into network engineering, it was all about the excitement of technology. I loved figuring out how systems worked, how data flowed, how everything connected. It felt like solving a puzzle, and I was hooked. But as the years passed, I started to see a different side of it. The work became routine—configuring, troubleshooting, maintaining. It’s important work, no doubt, but I began to ask myself: Is this all there is? There’s this idea that work should be fulfilling, that it should give us a sense of purpose. But what happens when the work itself becomes repetitive, when it feels like you’re just keeping the wheels turning? Is that enough? Or is ther

Ever stop to think about who you really are? I mean, not just your name or where you’re from, but what makes you you in this crazy, ever-changing world? That’s something I’ve wrestled with a lot, especially being Moroccan in a world that’s more connected and digital than ever before. Let’s start with the basics: What does it mean to be Moroccan today? Is it just about speaking the language, eating the food, and celebrating the holidays? Or is it something deeper, something that ties into how I see the world and how I interact with it? I’ve found myself asking these questions, especially as I dive deeper into technology, which sometimes feels so far removed from the traditions I grew up with. Let me tell you, it's not just about speaking Darija or knowing how to make the perfect tagine. It's deeper than that. It's about how I see the world and how I fit into it, especially when I'm knee-deep in tech stuff that feels a million miles away from the traditions I grew up w