Seneca—that is, Lucius Annæus Seneca—has been close to my heart for decades. His dialogues and essays, as well as his letters, all of which can be found in many a fine English translation, are within my reach all the time. But every single word of his comes with the knowledge that Nero, the wily Roman emperor, had ordered him to kill himself in the early years of the first millennium, and that he had followed the order without any compunction. Modelled on the suicide of Socrates, Seneca’s is with us till this day. Whence my discomfort, I feel. No matter what I come across in his writings, and no matter how wise it may strike me at first, I eventually feel the heft of Nero’s order. But is this because I am fully aware of Seneca’s ignoble end, or because his every single word is also laden with it well in advance? There can be no answer to this question, but I am still in favor of his sixth sense. Indeed, Nero must have been after his life for quite a while, and he must have felt it long before the fatal order. Which is perhaps why Seneca’s wisdom is still with us a couple of millennia later. The upcoming Nero’s order might well be at the very bottom of Seneca’s wisdom, as well. Come to think of it, is this why I am captivated by so many wily emperors of the world I happen to be living in? Luckily for me, there cannot be anything personal in my own predicament. The emperor’s order will be for all and sundry this time around.

Addendum I (May 24, 2025)

Printed out and pasted on unusually large postcards, this piece of writing went yesterday morning to Donald Trump, Xi Jinping, Narendra Damodardas Modi, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin. To tell the truth, I was surprised by my decision to share my feelings with them. Clearly, each one of them reminded me of good old Nero, but I felt a tad uneasy about likening myself to Seneca, albeit rather subtly. The heft of Nero’s order must have played a major rôle in his wisdom close to the end of his life. Indeed, I can feel it in plenty of his writings. Who knows, perhaps I am ever-so-slightly jealous of Seneca’s predicament, whence my gentle teasing of the emperors of our times. Just perhaps!

Addendum II (May 25, 2025)

Nonetheless, the heft of today’s emperors’ orders is weighing ever more heavily on my own mind. Although far from personal, as in Seneca’s case, their imminent orders are with me every single day. Actually, every hour. It is ultimately up to just a few mighty humans to bring this world to its well-deserved end. And I cannot shake it out of my mind. Whence so many postcards that I have sent to the mightiest humans on planet earth. I have stopped counting them long time ago, but many they surely are. Many, many. Regardless of the fact that I have not received a single reply from any of them to this day, I am fully aware that not a few in their cabinets are conscious of my presence. The last postcard will confuse the bulk of them without any doubt, but some of them will do their best to learn a bit about Seneca and Nero of times past. And this brief explanation will serve them well, I am pretty sure. They will figure it out at long last. One way or another, this gives me all the joy I can ask for in my dotage. Three cheers for my thorny wisdom!