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...

From Midwest Book Review Synopsis: Jeremy Feig was at rock bottom - broke, alone, and living in a shoebox-sized apartment. At the same time, his cat was perfectly content. What was her secret? She couldn't say it out loud, but it was clear she had all the answers to living a good life. How My Cat Made Me a Better Man is a hilarious self-help book for guys, based on the lessons of an edgy cat named Shelly. It's packed with useful advice on topics like relationships, dealing with stress, and even grooming habits. If you feel like your life is spinning out of control, this book will help you set things right - and keep you laughing along the way. Critique: Witty, whimsical, and featuring life-changing "Cat Lessons", How My Cat Made Me a Better Man is filled with everything from dating tips to coping with anxiety and pursuing life goals. Although written with a spry dash of feline humor, How My Cat Made Me a Better Man is a genuine self-help book filled with nine l...

  I didn’t set out to become a ninja. But when you live with a cat, stealth becomes second nature. Suddenly, you’re tiptoeing around sleeping furballs, dodging surprise attacks from under the couch, and learning to read micro‑expressions like a spy in a Cold War thriller. It’s not training. It’s survival. Here’s how my cat turned me into a stealth‑level strategist: Silence is power. Cats move like mist. No thuds, no stomps, just quiet presence. I learned to walk softly, breathe evenly, and open doors without a sound. It’s not sneaky — it’s respectful. Balance is everything. Watching a cat leap onto a narrow ledge without hesitation taught me to trust my own footing. I started practicing slow, deliberate movement. Ninja grandma was born. Awareness is a superpower. A cat knows where every person, object, and snack is at all times. I began scanning rooms like a tactical operative — not paranoid, just prepared. Timing is the secret weapon. Cats don’t rush. They wait, they ...

  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...