After Such Knowledge

I bet I could find a connection, and here 'tis. The 1979 overthrow of the Shah did indeedy emerge from the same global structural forces that produced neoliberalism—but the crucial twist is that Iran’s revolution was the counter‑movement side of that same world‑system shock, not the market-liberalizing side. In other words: Likud and neoliberalism were expressions of the new order; the Iranian Revolution was an eruption produced by the collapse of the old order. I lack the charm. The way it fits together is this: the global system was already breaking down (1973–1980). Across the world, the post‑WWII economic order—anchored in fixed exchange rates, cheap energy, U.S.-centered financial stability, and developmentalist states — was collapsing. This collapse created two kinds of political outcomes. There was the market-liberalizing realignment like New York’s 1975–76 fiscal restructuring (the origin of neoliberalism itself, Thatcher's "Glorious Capitulation" to the City ...

A capricious God can get away with anything. Sandra Richter’s distinction between the “cuddly Jesus” and “God” is her way of warning modern Christians against domesticating the divine into something soft, tame, and therapeutically pleasant. She argues that the biblical God is: - sovereign   - dangerous   - morally demanding   - world‑ordering   - not reducible to comfort   And that Jesus, in Christian theology, embodies that same holiness and authority—not a sentimentalized, plush version of it. When you track the evolution of civilizations, you will see a striking parallel with Mongol political theology. Across civilizations, people repeatedly soften the cosmic principle: - The Eternal Blue Heaven becomes a benevolent sky-father   - The Mandate of Heaven becomes a moral license   - Providence becomes a reassuring story of personal blessing   - Jesus becomes a gentle mascot rather than a cosmic king ...

The thing I always cared about more than anything else: culture is not sacred because it is beautiful, or symbolic, or identity‑forming — it is sacred because of what it does. I  treat culture almost like an engineering system: a living, evolving apparatus whose legitimacy comes from its outputs, not its sentiments. Culture as an Adaptation Whose Meaning Lies in Its Consequences 1. Culture is an adaptation only insofar as it works. For me, culture is not primarily: - a worldview   - a set of values   - a symbolic order   - a shared identity   Those are inputs or expressions. The adaptation is judged by its effects on survival, flourishing, and ecological fit. In my evolutionary framing, culture is the third layer — the behavioral layer — and its worth is measured by: - whether it increases cooperation   - whether it stabilizes group life   - whether it improves the transformation of resources into “good and useful things”...

“Life isn’t fair” is a description. “Life is evil” is a moral judgment. Western civilization—especially in its classical, Christian, and Enlightenment strands—has spent centuries trying to keep those two categories from collapsing into each other. And the fact that it tries to keep them separate is one of its most distinctive intellectual moves. Let's lay out the architecture so we can see the joints. 1. “Life isn’t fair” = a tragic observation. Across most civilizations, the recognition that the world is structurally unfair is simply a fact of experience: - storms hit the innocent   - children die   - talent goes unrewarded   - the wicked prosper  This is the tragic sense of life—the recognition that the cosmos is not arranged around human moral expectations. It’s not malevolent; it’s indifferent. In Greek terms: moira (fate) is not “evil,” it’s simply the grain of the universe. 2. “Evil” in Western thought = a moral category. Western civilization—esp...

In a pre‑violent civil conflict, could a charismatic, polarizing figure be used by one elite faction as a “torpedo” to sabotage another faction’s long‑term project? And the answer, in structural—not personal—terms is: Absolutely. That is one of the classic moves in elite factional conflict. Let me lay it out in a way that fits my “Second American / Third English” civil‑war‑on‑these‑shores frame and Oglesby’s Yankee–Cowboy dialectic. Oglesby’s model is about elite factions using outsiders as weapons against each other. Yankees: finance, managerial elites, institutionalists. Cowboys: extractive, frontier, energy, Sunbelt, security‑state adjacent. In his telling, neither side fights directly. They launch proxies—politicians, movements, scandals, investigations, media storms—at each other. That’s very close to the gangster‑slang “torpedo”:   a human projectile fired at a rival’s structure. A political torpedo is someone who: - is high‑impact,   - unpredictable, ...

And I thought I was alarmist. "Metaphysical evil" being what it is, moralistic religion-verging rhetoric from street-corner preachers is part of the scenery. Now that Jiang has erupted into social media, he has been swept up into the madness. I'm not sure myself whether he's a Chinese asset or on the lam from the CCP. I do feel like I'm being replaced. I only wish he'd get into prescriptions like how to reconstitute civilization by investing part of the social surplus in things like clean energy. Like China is doing, or putting on a damn good show. I'm curtailing the urge to cuss out the voting public to retreat to my intellectual pulpit using the high sun of scorn and derision. It's how I stay sane. Summary: Per Professor Jiang, the problem isn’t whether a state “guides” the economy. Every state guides something. The issue is what it guides, who it empowers, and how fast the whole contraption melts down when the wrong people get their hands on the con...