The Great Text Flood: Why Essays Don’t Land Anymore


In the corner of the internet we built—our little ThinkMyTime bunker with its hand-rolled reflections and late-night arguments—we used to mistake the silence between posts for breathing room, used to believe that if we just sharpened the sentences and kept the nerve, the world would keep meeting us halfway; but the numbers came back like a pathology report and they weren’t subtle: the audience didn’t drift, it evaporated, as if Read the rest

The Ugly Truth About the Radical Right

I don’t enjoy writing this kind of essay. It is the intellectual equivalent of cleaning a greasy kitchen: necessary, unpleasant, and guaranteed to offend the people who insist the smell is “authentic tradition.” But if we’re going to talk honestly about political extremes, you don’t get to treat one side as a dangerous cult and the other as a quirky hobby. Extremes are not philosophies. They are stress reactions with … Read the rest

When News Becomes a Team Sport

ChatGPT Image Jan 5, 2026, 05_20_53 PM

On a winter evening quite a few years ago, I sat in a rented room—one of those temporary places where the furniture is chosen to survive, not to comfort. The radiator clicked like an impatient metronome. Outside, a streetlamp made the wet pavement shine. I had no plan except to hear a familiar language. I turned on the television.

Within minutes I was watching two countries that occupied the same … Read the rest

The Comfort of Hate

ChatGPT Image Dec 31, 2025, 05_36_58 PM

In our time, there is a fashionable sport which requires no equipment, no training, and very little courage. One simply sits down, opens a screen, and begins to despise strangers with excellent confidence. It is convenient because it feels like action, but it is mostly posture. It also has a small side effect: it eats the mind from the inside, slowly, politely, like rust that never announces itself until the … Read the rest

A Strange Thing Happens When You Say “It Works”

ChatGPT Image Dec 25, 2025, 10_28_37 PM

A man I knew used to carry a small object in his pocket. Not a charm exactly—he would have laughed at that word—but something smooth he could roll between his fingers when he was anxious. He said it helped him focus. It gave his hands something to do while his mind calmed down. Later I saw the same man in a church, doing almost the same thing with a prayer … Read the rest