Boris Kriger

In a world where billions now live, work, play, and build relationships in immersive digital realms, the law has been left behind. Virtual worlds—metaverses, persistent online universes, and augmented realities—have become vibrant economies, social spaces, and new frontiers of human experience.

How close are you to the edge? Closer than you think. Every human mind operates on a landscape of valleys and ridges. The valley is your sanity—the deep, stable equilibrium of a mind that can absorb the shocks of life and return to balance. But the valley is not permanent.

Every drop of oil is ancient sunlight. Three hundred million years of photosynthesis, burial, and geological patience, compressed into a black liquid that we extract in hours and burn in minutes. The ratio of nature’s patience to our haste is roughly one million to one.

Every decision you have ever made has been contaminated. Not by ignorance, not by carelessness, but by the very biology that makes you alive.

For half a century, cosmology has relied on two invisible ingredients to explain the universe: dark matter, a substance that has never been detected despite decades of experimental search, and dark energy, a repulsive force whose physical nature remains entirely unknown.

By the time you read this sentence, it has already become the past. Your brain is lying to you—and that lie keeps you alive. Every perception you experience, every movement you make, every intuition that guides your decisions is not a response to reality but a prediction about it.

Something is changing in the way we talk to each other and most of us have not noticed yet. Millions of people now spend hours each day in conversation with AI systems.

Modern civilization rests on metals, yet their true nature remains widely misunderstood. Bridges collapse, pipelines crack, turbines creep, and components fail not because metallurgy is insufficiently empirical, but because its deepest foundations are rarely acknowledged.

Across two thousand years, Seneca’s voice still reaches those who struggle to live with clarity in a chaotic world. Seneca’s Bridge to Serenity brings his ancient wisdom into the landscape of modern life, transforming timeless Stoic insights into vivid, relatable stories.

What if everything you thought you knew about existence was hiding a disturbing truth? Every time you eat, you perform an act of destruction. Every breath you take requires the transformation of prior structure. Every thought in your mind has a physical cost. This is not philosophy or metaphor.

This book challenges one of the most persistent illusions of modern thought: the belief that evidence alone decides which theories are true. Across science, philosophy, and public debate, theories are often judged by popularity, elegance, authority, or the sheer volume of supporting data.

Beginning with the mysterious precision of the universe’s physical constants and ending at the silent edge of knowledge, this book traces the anthropic principle not as an answer, but as a profound and unsettling question.

Mathematics has long been regarded as the purest expression of truth — a language through which the universe reveals itself. Yet behind every equation stands the human mind that created it.

Philosophy as Consolation: Boethius and the Art of Inner Freedom explores what it means to live with dignity amid uncertainty, loss, and injustice. Revisiting the timeless wisdom of The Consolation of Philosophy, this work draws it into dialogue with the disquiet of the present.

The Wisdom of Not Knowing is not a return to ancient philosophy, but a reinvention of it.

Ce livre n’a pas été écrit pour vous apaiser. Il ne vous offrira ni espoir, ni promesse de progrès, ni cette douce illusion que le projet humain possède encore une noblesse intrinsèque.

What remains of a human being when the oldest instinct—self-preservation—is silenced?

If François Rabelais were alive today, he would not be “problematic” — he would be impossible. His books would not be debated, contextualized, or gently criticized; they would be reported, flagged, algorithmically buried, and ceremoniously uninvited from public life.

For centuries, philosophers, economists, and scientists have asked: why do humans cooperate? The question assumes that conflict is natural and cooperation is the puzzle requiring explanation. This groundbreaking book inverts that assumption entirely.

What if topology were not about objects, but about transformations? Not about space, but about the conditions under which identity persists?