Category: Non Euclidean Politics

  • Nashville

    A Note On My Return They let me back into Nashville last Tuesday, which felt appropriate. Tuesday is the day of the week that has given up trying to be anything in particular—not the fresh start of Monday, not the momentum of Wednesday, not the desperate optimism of Friday. Tuesday is a day that has…

  • Journey to the Center of the Blockchain

    I went to the blockchain because my coins were screaming. Not metaphorically. I mean screaming. A high-pitched, margin-call shriek echoing through the fiber-optic desert like bats trapped in a Bloomberg terminal. You don’t ignore that kind of noise. You load up the laptop, spike the coffee with whatever’s left in the cabinet—two Modafinil, a microdose…

  • The Director’s Cut

    I went to the movies expecting escape. That was my first mistake. The ticket app said the film was playing at 7:40. It had been playing all week. People were dressed for it—like a minor holiday, a secret handshake. Leather jackets, ironic denim, that look of mutual recognition you get when strangers agree they’re here…

  • The Phantom’s Revenge

    ACT I: ARRIVAL & THE PERFORMANCE. They invited me to Santa Monica, to the clean, well-lighted prison of culture called The Broad Stage. The mission: to bear witness to a “subsidized art opera,” a thing of fair quality and certain protection. A fortress against the market. A mausoleum with a liquor license. I went armed…

  • The Rerouting Reflex

    There’s this persistent consensual hallucination floating around American boardrooms and think-tank server farms— that empire, the whole blood-soaked apparatus of extraction, coercion, and hegemonic mindfuck, somehow booted up on American soil sometime around 1945, as if the Republic had invented the very wetware of domination. As if Bretton Woods was the Genesis block and everything…

  • Bonzo Weimar

    History isn’t repeating. It’s been kidnapped, gutted, and dumped on the freeway, twitching in the headlights. Every smug political scientist with a bookshelf full of Weimar Republic tomes thinks they’ve got the playbook, but none of that fragile German handwringing prepares you for the lunatic spectacle unfolding now.  Everybody in Substack is trying to lecture…

  • The Infrastructure of Irresponsibility

    Nice infrastructure of irresponsibility we’ve managed to create. First you have first-order grifters: weapons manufacturers, defense contractors, and logistics suppliers — the ones who actually make the machinery of violence. Then come the second-order grifters — the think tankers, foreign policy fellows, and adjacent “experts” who don’t make weapons but polish the narratives that keep…

  • The Cognitive Manhattan Project and Its Coming Boardroom Coup

    The air in Davos smells of melting permafrost and panic-sweat. Venture capitalists whisper about AGI alignment like medieval monks debating how many angels might pirouette on a data center’s cooling fin. Meanwhile, in a windowless Virginia sub-basement, a task force plots its leveraged buyout of one of those boutique model shops out near the crumbling…

  • Notes on TPOT/RATS

    One of the defining features of the TPOt crowd was that medium rat was running on such obscene levels of dopamine and peer validation, basic brain functions like memory got completely fried. The social high was so unrelenting it turned executive function into background noise. What emerged was a closed-circuit attention economy: ideas weren’t tested…

  • Messianic Hype

    How can the crypto/Web3 ecosystem believe its own messianic hype when it’s entirely built on a fragile global capital structure it doesn’t understand—and can’t survive without? At its core, the illusion of crypto’s divinity is just a derivative trade. They sell it as destiny—“the future of finance,” “a decentralized revolution.” But the reality is more…