## Cioran at His Parents'My mother wants to play Scrabble. It's 4 p.m. and the idea of suicide suddenly seems less reasonable.I have always held, deep down, the conviction that humanity's first thinker was some troglodyte, deep in a cave, trying to escape a mother who wanted him to play Scrabble.One more move, then I’ll be gone, soon to be joined by eternity, I tell myself. The clock, however, always strikes 4 p.m.If I were absolutely certain that everything ended with death, I would kill myself on the spot. But here's the thing: I remain, in spite of everything, with the faint possibility that eternity exists, that my mother will join me there, and that we will have to play Scrabble.Misery. Triple word score.The state of near-larval bliss that I'd managed to attain by dint of doing nothing, saved from a thousand calamities: the war, philosophy, dinner with my parents.Toward the end of the summer, I cross paths with my father’s gaze. I know this look. It’s the dreadful apprehension of a man who knows that soon he’ll have to play backgammon.Insomnia is a lucid vertigo that would turn paradise into a place of torture. But at least there, you're not forced to play a game.It doesn't exist, in all of human language, a more terrifying, more dreadful phrase than, "*What are you doing today, sweetie?*"We don't write because we have something to say. We write because we're looking for an excuse not to accompany our mother to the attic of Criel-sur-Mer.The attic of Criel-sur-Mer is the most perfect proof that no house should have an attic.4 p.m., again. The incessant return of the nightmare.We find no matriarchy in Hindu mythology. The reason is undoubtedly that family vacations had not yet been invented.The great drama of existence is to have but two choices: be alive or be dead. There is, that being said, an intermediate possibility: to be my father.Suffering makes you experience time in detail, moment by moment. With family as well.
brother you can't speak french at all. frankly even your english looks suspicious> It's 4 p.m. and the idea of suicide suddenly seems less reasonable.It's 4pm and suicide already seems like the only reasonable way out.>One more move, then I’ll be gone, soon to be joined by eternity, I tell myself. The clock, however, always strikes 4 p.m.A second goes by and disappears, soon caught up by another one. I look at the clock. It's still 4pm.>The state of near-larval bliss that I'd managed to attain by dint of doing nothing, saved from a thousand calamities: the war, philosophy, dinner with my parents.Man should have remained a larva, never to evolve. It would have spared himself a lot of disasters; war, philosophy, eating with my parents.>Toward the end of the summer, I cross paths with my father’s gaze. I know this look. It’s the dreadful apprehension of a man who knows that soon he’ll have to play backgammon.After eating, I meet my father's eyes. I know this gaze. It's the horrified stare of a man who knows he'll soon have to play cards.>We write because we're looking for an excuse not to accompany our mother to the attic of Criel-sur-Mer. We write because we're looking for an excuse not to accompany our mother to a backyard sale at Criel-sur-Mer. >The attic of Criel-sur-Mer is the most perfect proof that no house should have an attic.The backyard sale at Criel-sur-Mer is the most perfect proof that no house should ever have a backyard. >Suffering makes you experience time in detail, moment by moment. With family as well.Suffering makes you experience time thoroughly, moment after moment. So does my family.
>>24722599Did you translate this yourself or with AI? If it's AI I'd like to know so I can laugh at the techbros who keep saying AI will replace translators.
>>24723455AI actually translates scary good, I'm sorry to say.
>>24722704>The backyard sale at Criel-sur-Mer is the most perfect proof that no house should ever have a backyardThis is also just as incorrect lmao.>>24723465It failed spectacularly in this case. What AI was this?
>>24723467>This is also just as incorrect lmao.how would you translate it?
>>24722599>I have always held, deep down, the conviction that humanity's first thinker was some troglodyte, deep in a cave, trying to escape a mother who wanted him to play Scrabble.I would gleefully watch you all choke for a chance to play Scrabble with my mom again.
>>24723691>The Criel-sur-Mer garage sale is more than perfect proof that no house should have a garageIt's still not perfect because there's no way to translate the connection between vide-grenier and the grenier (attic) as a room in English. At the end of the sentence I could use attic, or even storage room, but I lose the repetition, while gaining the true meaning of the sentence (houses shouldn't have attics/storage spaces). A garage is a nice middle ground because they are used for storage, however they are associated with cars which introduces meaning that was not present. Using yard and yard sale won't work because a house without a yard is absurd, but you could use yard sale and attic, again losing the repetition. Also, backyard sale is extremely fucking ESL (which you probably are), it's simply a yard sale. The backyard isn't public so it makes no fucking sense to hold a sale there.
>>24722599Kek
>>24723455It's AI bro, who do you think I am ? I write like this though, so it's not like it's a problem for me.Didn't know there were so many copywriters on /lit/ :'/
>>24722599some writers have only a good idea and its not worth reading an entire book about, in his case not even the idea is really that smart.
>>24722599Is there a transcribed version of this article in french, which is not on a site that asks you to pay up?
>>24725745Why are you asking that question since this image contains the whole article? Something tells me you want to pipe the raw text into AI, you nasty jeet.
>>24725764Dumb nigger. I in fact will pipe the raw text, but instead of your jeet technology, into lute to improve my french vocabulary and comprehension.
>>24725745Cioran chez ses parentsMa mère veut faire un Scrabble. Il est 16 heures et déjà le suicide m'apparaît comme la seule issue raisonnable.J'ai toujours eu, au fond de moi, la certitude que le premier penseur de l'humanité était un homme traqué, tapi au fond d'une caverne pour échapper à sa mère qui voulait faire un Scrabble.Une seconde de passe, puis disparaît, bientôt rejointe par une autre. Je regarde l'horloge, il est toujours 16 heures.Si j'étais absolument certain que tout s'arrêtait avec la mort, je me tuerais sur-le-champ. Mais voilà : il demeure, en dépit de tout, une infime possibilité que l'éternité existe, et que ma mère m'y rejoigne, et qu'il faille y jouer au Scrabble.Misère. Mot compte triple.L'homme aurait dû s'en tenir à l'état de larve, se dispenser d'évoluer, ça lui aurait épargné beaucoup de calamités : la guerre, la philosophie, dîner avec mes parents.Vers la fin du dîner, je croise le regard de mon père. Je connais ce regard. C'est le regard épouvanté d'un homme qui sait que, bientôt, il devra faire un rami.L'insomnie est une lucidité vertigineuse qui convertirait le paradis en un lieu de torture. Mais au moins, on n'y est pas obligé de faire un jeu.Il n'existe pas, dans tout le langage humain, de phrase plus terrifiante, plus épouvantable, que : « Qu'est-ce que tu veux faire aujourd'hui, mon chéri ? »On n'écrit pas parce qu'on a quelque chose à dire. On écrit parce qu'on cherche une excuse pour ne pas accompagner sa mère au vide-grenier de Criel-sur-Mer.Le vide-grenier de Criel-sur-Mer est la preuve la plus parfaite qu'aucune maison ne devrait avoir de grenier.16 heures, à nouveau. Incessant retour du cauchemar.On ne trouve aucun matricide dans la mythologie hindoue. La raison en est sans doute que les vacances en famille n'avaient pas encore été inventées.Le grand drame de l'existence, c'est de n'avoir que ces deux choix : être vivant ou bien être mort. Il existe, cela dit, une possibilité intermédiaire : être mon père.La souffrance vous fait vivre le temps en détail, moment par moment. Ma famille aussi.
>>24725804Merci beaucoup pour vos efforts
>Les grands penseurs en VAcances PAR DAVID CAVIGLIOLIAll these shitty ai translations and efforts for a mediocre parody feuilleton.. what is this thread lol?
