MSI Press Blog

  I used to think philosophy required books, debates, and long walks through fog. Turns out, it also requires a cat. My cat didn’t quote Plato. He didn’t argue about free will. He didn’t write essays. But he lived questions. And he made me live them too. Here’s what he taught me: Presence is the first principle. A cat is always fully in the moment — not distracted, not divided. Watching him taught me that being here is harder than it looks. Desire is layered. A cat may want the door open — but not to go through it. He may want affection — but only on his terms. I began to see how human desire is just as contradictory. Freedom includes boundaries. A cat is free, but not reckless. He knows his limits. He respects his own rhythms. I started asking: what does freedom really mean? Language is optional. A single “mwout” can mean ten different things. A slow blink can mean trust. A paw on your arm can mean “I see you.” I learned to listen beyond words. Stillness is not emptiness...

  Kokee takes over the foreign aid supplies With a surprise cameo by  Kokee the Sekoke In our household, the cats rule. Ten of them. A full feline parliament, complete with factions, committees, and a water‑trough caucus. They have routines. They have expectations. They have opinions. And then, one fine morning, the neighbor’s dog exploded through her screen door and arrived at our doorstep like a furry, panting meteor. Naturally, I brought him inside — because the street is no place for a confused dog with poor impulse control. I figured we’d wait out the 6–8 hours until his human returned. The cats, however, had  not  been consulted. Act I: The Great Retreat The moment the dog crossed the threshold, the entire feline population performed a synchronized evacuation worthy of Cirque du Soleil. Big eyes everywhere. The “What fresh hell is this” expression spread across the house like a contagion. One cat, who has never seen a dog, filed an immediate complaint with mana...

  I used to think housecleaning was about control. Then, I got a cat. Now I know. It’s about adaptation, humility, and the ability to clean the same spot five times without losing your mind. Here’s what my cat taught me: Clean around the cat. If he’s sleeping on the couch, the couch is off-limits. If he’s sprawled across the laundry, you wait. Cleaning becomes a dance of detours. Fur is eternal. You can vacuum, lint-roll, and sweep, but the fur will return. Accept it. Embrace it. Learn to measure cleanliness in layers, not absolutes. Mystery crumbs are part of life. Cats knock things over. Cats drag things in. Cats leave things behind. You will clean up substances you cannot identify. You will not win. Timing is everything. Never mop before zoomies. Never dust before a nap. Never assume the litter box will stay clean for more than 10 minutes. Clutter is strategic. That pile of papers? A launchpad. That laundry basket? A throne. That box you meant to recycle? A fortress. C...