This bimonthly roundup from Freddie deBoer does something rare for a newsletter digest: it transforms a simple list of links into a searing diagnosis of a culture fracturing under the weight of its own contradictions. Rather than merely cataloging subscriber work, deBoer curates a mosaic that exposes the absurdity of our current political moment, the seduction of conspiracy thinking, and the desperate search for meaning in a world where institutions have failed. The piece is notable not for what it says about individual essays, but for the terrifying coherence it finds in the chaos of a society where "persuasive moral slop" has become the engine of tribal warfare.
The Architecture of Delusion
DeBoer opens by highlighting submissions that dissect how we process reality, particularly when that reality is too painful to bear. He points to a submission by Chris, who argues that "the ending of Stranger Things was bad, but conformitygate - the idea that it was bad on purpose to set up a secret finale - uses the exact same logic as a conspiracy theorist scanning TV shows for evidence of the Illuminati." This is a sharp observation. By linking pop culture disappointment to the mechanics of conspiracy theory, deBoer suggests that the impulse to find hidden patterns is a symptom of a broader epistemic crisis. It is not just about bad writing; it is about a collective inability to accept ambiguity.
This framing is reinforced by Javier Ergueta's piece on war leadership, which deBoer notes offers a damning critique of executive overreach. Ergueta writes that "a president who lacks the knowledge to anticipate the consequences of war, the humanity to feel its cost, the integrity to hold a coalition together, and the humility to recognize error—is not a war leader. He is a war risk." DeBoer uses this to pivot from entertainment to the very real stakes of governance. The argument here is that the failure of leadership is not a personality flaw but a structural danger that threatens the very fabric of international stability. Critics might note that focusing on the moral failings of a single leader can obscure the bipartisan nature of warmongering, a point Spencer Piston addresses directly in his own submission.
"The politicization of civil society arises from an exchange in which political elites trade money and power for the credibility and trust possessed by actors in civil society."
The Cost of Authoritarianism
The roundup takes a darker turn as deBoer highlights work that confronts the creeping authoritarianism of the state. Twerb Jebbins' account of the "invasion and occupation of the Twin Cities by ICE" is described as an analysis of "the creeping fascism which accompanied it." DeBoer does not shy away from the gravity of this language, drawing a line between historical atrocities and current policy. He connects this to the submission by Twerb Jebbins which references "The Strage del Cermis, Adolf Eichmann, and Minnesota." This juxtaposition is jarring but deliberate. By invoking the 1998 Cavalese cable car crash—a disaster where a US military plane severed a cable car line, killing 20 people, and the subsequent cover-up attempts—deBoer forces the reader to consider the human cost of military impunity. The reference to Eichmann serves as a reminder of the banality of evil in bureaucratic systems, suggesting that the current immigration enforcement regime operates on similar principles of detached cruelty.
DeBoer also elevates the work of Bill McCallum, who reflects on the complexities of mathematics education, and David Roberts, who dissects a TV show that "gets NYC, its wealthy, and its impoverished completely wrong." These seemingly disparate topics are woven together to show a society that has lost its ability to understand basic truths, whether in numbers or in the lived experience of its citizens. The argument is that when we lose the ability to see the world clearly, we become vulnerable to the most extreme interpretations of it.
Critics might argue that linking a math education blog to a critique of ICE is a stretch, but deBoer's point is that the erosion of shared reality affects every domain of life. If we cannot agree on the rules of division in a classroom, how can we agree on the rules of justice in a courtroom? The thread connecting these pieces is the fragility of the social contract.
The Search for Meaning in the Ruins
As the roundup moves toward the end, deBoer shifts focus to the individual's struggle to find purpose in a collapsing culture. He highlights Eric McLaughlin's book, "One More For The Ditch," which asks "what, if anything, is worth worshiping when institutions fail, morality fractures, and survival itself becomes an act of defiance." This is the emotional core of the collection. DeBoer suggests that the answer lies not in grand political movements, but in the quiet, local acts of resistance and care. He points to Erica Etelson's piece on rural organizers who are "flying below the radar of toxically polarized national politics" to achieve "ultra-local victories."
The inclusion of Alistair's reflection on weight-loss pills changing one's "perspective on self control" and Rosemary Zimmermann's writing from a "free home-care clinic for the indigent" underscores a theme of radical simplicity. In a world of "persuasive moral slop," as Tanner Gesek calls it, the most radical act is to strip away the noise and focus on the essentials. DeBoer writes that "you can make any idea sound good with enough rhetorical skill—and now everyone has that skill on tap. This essay argues that's not a minor problem; it's the engine of the coming multipolar tribal warfare over what's true and worthwhile." This is a chilling prediction. The ability to manipulate language has outpaced our ability to discern truth, leading to a landscape where "conformitygate" and "conspiracy theory" are not just entertainment but the primary modes of political engagement.
"The real terrifying possibility is if humanity's biggest turning point might not feel like a crisis at all."
Bottom Line
Freddie deBoer's curation is a masterclass in connecting the dots between the absurd and the catastrophic. The strongest part of this argument is its refusal to treat cultural decay as a series of isolated incidents; instead, it presents a unified theory of how the loss of shared reality enables authoritarianism. Its biggest vulnerability is the sheer weight of the despair it evokes, which risks paralyzing the reader rather than mobilizing them. However, by ending on the note of local, human-scale resistance, deBoer offers a path forward: if the institutions have failed, the work of rebuilding must begin in the small, unglamorous spaces where people still care for one another. The reader should watch for how these local movements evolve as the national landscape continues to fracture.