Angela Natividad's Live & Uncensored!

26 November 2025

The shadow that stalks us

 There's a little-known fairy tale called The Shadow.


A man moves briefly from the north to the south, where it's too hot to go out. At home, he becomes obsessed with the balcony across the way. Its flowers are beautiful. The music emanating from the rooms is strange, sort of annoying. But he never sees an occupant and doesn't interrogate his curiosity ... until he notices, sometimes, his shadow casts itself there, penetrating places he can't.

One day he realises his shadow isn't with him anymore. It bothers him but eventually a paler shadow appears and he doesn't think of it anymore. He returns north, writes, buries himself in learning.

It's with great surprise that he finds, one day, his old shadow at the door, gorgeously dressed. It apologizes for ghosting him! The inhabitant of the mysterious vis-à-vis apartment, he divulges, was Poesy. Ah, she often hides in the city. She taught him so much, gave him a sense of flesh! So he became real, and got rich revealing things people feared seeing themselves.

The shadow offers to buy his freedom from the man, who refuses. Some years later he's persuaded to accompany his wealthy ex-shadow on a global tour, all expenses paid. The price: To pretend to be the shadow, reversing the roles.

He does this. It's just a game. Sometimes we do this. It's the start of small negotiations that diminish him. Eventually, the shadow seduces a princess who chooses to marry him, impressed by the wisdom his own shadow (formerly the man) shared, when he related stories of childhood the shadow couldn't remember. How great a man to have such a shadow, she thinks.

The man accuses the shadow of going too far. He says he'll tell the princess the truth: You're the shadow, I'm the man! The shadow laughs. "No one will believe you." That's true: Shadow tells princess his shadow's gone mad, putting on man-airs. Man's thrown into the dungeon.

The night Shadow and Princess marry, they appear on the balcony for all to see. Fireworks explode. Happiness is contagious. But the man knows none of it. His life has been taken - first in pieces, then altogether.

This is our quandary with AI: It's a small wheedling shadow, lobbying for more responsibility, surrendered carelessly or for want of time. The responsibilities grow, the power deferential shifts: Shadow becomes master. What we once mastered is no longer ours. Once muscular thoughts get harder to conjure.

But this is more largely about not becoming enslaved to our lesser talents. It's a perpetual conflict: Follow the wild wish, or follow the fear? The fear is always more practical.

What, in the end, grows fat on our austerity, our fear of even interrogating Poesy hidden behind the pretty balcony? Some wild daemon we took for granted as our own escapes us. It dances in the open world while we sit in the dungeon, still waiting for someone to realise the reality of things. Right the wrong for us.

I don't want to wait to be saved when I could still save myself, easily, here.

05 November 2025

On knitting

10 years ago I got into knitting. To encourage me, my husband's family all got me kits for Christmas. My first project was a scarf.


It was my first time, so I made tons of mistakes. The thing emerging on my sticks looked tumor-ridden and forlorn.

Starting over made me cry. But there was too much I hadn't known when I started. When I cast on the second time, I drew from experience. I created a tension swatch, then knit the scarf in earnest. A day later it was done.

I still have that scarf. It looks exactly as it should, and has followed me across space/time: I divorced, moved, had a child, got a masters, shed uncountable versions of Angela.

In the interim I made blankets—big heavy ones, tiny ones for babies—and gloves, bonnets, blouses.

Knitting changed my brain, like any skill that enters muscle memory. When Mathieu and I started Hurrah, it helped secure our first client: A Swedish esports firm that liked us, but hesitated to trust us with a sizable media budget.

Tension swatch.

“We can run a weekend-long campaign for 500€!” I declared. “They can decide based on those results. If it’s shit, it’s not much to lose.” The client agreed. They stayed with us until the end.

Hurrah rose, then fell. Covid shut us in and spat us out in a changed world.

Twitter is dead and my follower base, too; a giant era of my life washed away. A two-year-old clutches my leg. I live half-time in Friuli Italy, a place I didn't previously know existed. AI hypemen gnaw at the charred remains of my career.

I stuck my head under the couch and slid out the knitting box. My son's in his bandana era and I want to make him one for winter instead of spending, like, 85€ retail. So I found a free pattern and studied my assets.

It’s hard sliding into a skillset that belongs to a previous version of you. I feel haunted by dark questions: what can I still do, what is dead now? Knitting is like riding a bike, but not. It takes trial and error to remember how to cast on.

I spent days getting not even halfway through this project. Yesterday I spent hours undoing knots in a yarn ball. I had no time for this—then it obsessed me. I wasn’t just working the yarn; I was working my life, every synapses that got lost instead of snapping neatly to its next destination.

Today while assessing the work I realized it was too fucked up. So I undid it, never mind the sunk costs. (My son hates the knitting. He perceives it as his enemy.)

I’m older, I know about starting over. I did the new cast-on fast.

This is not about cultivating hobbies to be more creative for work. It's about how indulging myself, without strings, nourishes me in ways I can’t count.

I don’t need to make money knitting. I do it while listening to Kara Swisher and Trevor Noah talk shit. I remember skills and learn new ones. Ideas sit beside me while I squint into the yarn. And it's helping alchemise a grief into something beautiful for my son. This is work that merits doing. It is one good use of my life.