A Guide to What I’ve Written So Far
— and Where This Is Going
Over the last month I’ve written more than I expected, and perhaps more than anyone expected to read. Twenty-six pieces in twenty-odd days isn’t a publishing schedule; it’s a pressure release. And yet, as the dust settles, a pattern has begun to show itself.
What looked like a scattershot of topics — politics, civilisation, the kitchen sink, memory, humour — was really one conversation approached from different angles. A conversation about how things fall apart, how we try to hold them together, and what we see when we stop pretending that everything is fine.
If you’re new here, consider this a map.
If you’ve been reading from the start, thank you for indulging the early turbulence.
Here are the pieces that form the backbone of this publication so far.
1. Power, Strongmen, and the Wobbling World
The old political models are creaking. Strongmen rise not out of strength, but from the collapse of the systems that once constrained them. These essays look at what’s shifting beneath our feet rather than the theatre on the surface.
• The Wobble of Strongmen
A look at why authority now shakes even when it wins — and what that wobble tells us about the societies beneath it.
• The Trump Mechanism
Beyond personality and outrage: the mechanical function Trump performs in a failing system, and why millions recognise it even if they can’t articulate it.
These two set the terms of the larger conversation:
we are not watching politics — we are watching structural fatigue.
2. Civilisation Under Strain — The West’s Unpatched Software
Every civilisation carries bugs in its code. Ours are starting to crash the system. These essays look beyond the headlines and into the architecture itself.
• The Entropical West
A slow leak of coherence and meaning — the kind that doesn’t announce itself with sirens, but with a shrug.
• When Civilisation Runs on an Old iPhone
What happens when institutions meant for endurance try to run 2025 on frameworks built for 1998.
• The Unpatched West
A look at the vulnerabilities we prefer not to see: ignored updates, neglected maintenance, and the rising cost of denial.
Taken together, these form the civilisational thread that will continue to run through much of what I write.
3. The Kitchen as a Map of the Mind
This series surprised me. What began as a light metaphor turned into a commentary on identity, coherence, and the way we assemble a self from mismatched parts. The kitchen became a stage: a place where memory, emotion, and logic negotiate their treaties.
• The Teaspoon and the Cosmos
The smallest act — the largest echo.
• The Whisk in the Universe
Chaos, order, and why the boundary between them is thinner than we pretend.
• The Sieve of Coherence
What we keep, what falls through, and why the holes are necessary.
These pieces carry the emotional oxygen of the publication — the counterweight to the geopolitical material. Without this series, the rest would feel too analytical. Without the other material, these would float away into abstraction. Together, they anchor each other.
And if you want to understand why I write at the speed I do — and why I’ll now publish at a more civilised pace — The Psion Paradox explains it all much better!
4. Personal Stories and the Necessary Humour of Being Human
Not everything needs to be heavy to be true. A life lived on water, in fog, in strange moments of improvisation — these stories remind me that the world is rarely tidy, but often generous.
• Crackers, Fog, and an H-Boat Called Ali Baba
A story about sailing, confusion, weather, and all the things that go wrong before they go right.
This is the human thread — the reminder that while civilisation may creak, individuals still muddle through with a laugh, a mistake, and the occasional miracle.
Where This Is Going
Over the next few weeks, I’ll begin shaping these threads into clearer series:
The collapse and reconfiguration of political systems
The psychology of coherence and identity
Myth and memory as tools for understanding the present
The lived experiences that make sense of the larger patterns
I’ll continue writing in the same style — mostly because I can’t seem to write in any other. But I hope this gives both new and returning readers a clearer doorway into the work so far, and a sense of the direction from here.
Thank you for reading, for sharing, and for the small notes of encouragement.
They matter more than you might think.
Eric