American Seances

Take a quick trip into Nixon’s head — imagine him watching the Pam Bondi/DOJ/Epstein circus and reacting with suspicion, strategy, and a weird respect for the PR upgrades. He’d see loyalty as currency, law as a tool, and leaks as the real terror.It’s a short, candid look at how Watergate’s lessons — containment, cover-ups, and the ruin that follows — show up in today’s legal theater. He’d admire the discipline, but dread the cliff-edge that comes with turning justice into performance.

Imagine taking Adam Smith to Walmart or handing him an Amazon homepage — hed admire the efficiency but would squint hard at the power behind the prices. He didnt write The Wealth of Nations as a love letter to giant corporations.Hed tell us markets need lots of competitors, limits on power, and rules — not platforms that sell, referee, and crush rivals. In short, hed say: "This is not what I meant."

Imagine sitting Karl Marx in front of a laptop and telling him people are terrified AI will take their jobs — he wouldn’t be shocked. He always thought technology was political: under capitalism, it’s shaped by who owns it.This short piece shows how AI just moves the same logic up the skill ladder — more productivity for owners, more insecurity for workers. The question isn’t whether machines can do the work, it’s who keeps the profits and who pays the price.

If you think you know American history, meet Smedley Butler: a two-time Medal of Honor Marine who spent a career enforcing U.S. power and then called it out straight-up.
This is a short, sharp look at how one insider’s anger and honesty turned into a brutal critique of intervention, profit-driven war, and the hollow peace that boots can’t build.

If you want a quick take, picture Mark Twain rolling his eyes at our favorite excuses for intervention: "liberation," "humanitarianism," and other polished alibis. He’d tell you Venezuela’s fate should be decided by Venezuelans, not by outsiders with contracts and bayonets.
Twain’s point is simple and sharp: do we want to export freedom or our own habits of domination? He’d argue we should start by practicing honesty at home before trying to rule the world.

Imagine bringing Andrew Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller back to life and showing them today’s tariff fights — one would demand the ledger, the other would map the choke points. This episode walks through their very different instincts: Carnegie’s obsession with efficiency and open markets, and Rockefeller’s love of systems, control, and scale.We keep it short and sharp, like two old titans debating the real stakes of trade wars: not patriotism, but who gains power and how capitalism rearranges itself when borders get messy. Come hear which side you’d root for.

Imagine Theodore Roosevelt reading today's tariff headlines with a scowl and a checklist: yes to power, no to posturing. He liked using state tools to shape markets, but only if there was a clear plan, real investment at home, and antitrust teeth to stop tariffs from just padding corporate pockets.
Roosevelt would respect the idea of leverage and reciprocity, but he’d demand specifics: what are you trying to build, who benefits, and where’s the institutional muscle — schools, factories, research, and fair competition — to back it up? Tariffs without that work are theater, and TR hated theater.
So his verdict? Use the stick, by all means, but aim it, prepare for the consequences, and make sure it disciplines power instead of protecting it. In short: dare mighty things — but do them competently.

Imagine sitting down with William McKinley for a quiet chat about tariffs and trade. He’d get why you want to protect jobs, but he’d also roll his eyes at policy-by-tweet and remind you that tariffs are a tool, not a spectacle.
He started as a fierce protectionist to build industry, then shifted toward opening markets once America was strong enough — so he’d probably agree with the goal but not the messy modern method. Read this episode if you want a historical take that’s equal parts practical and politely judgmental.

Imagine a stern Prussian philosopher texting you back about border policy — that’s basically Kant in a nutshell: laws yes, spectacle no. He’d ask not whether enforcement is effective, but whether it treats people as ends, not tools.This piece cuts to the point: dignity over deterrence, principle over performance. It’s a quick, sharp reminder that justice should justify itself, not put on a show.

Imagine John Locke reading today's headlines — he'd casually ask for the law, the limits, and the receipts. He believed governments exist to protect life, liberty and property, not to stage power for its own sake.If enforcement becomes intimidation instead of protection, Locke would say the social contract's been broken — and that people resisting aren't traitors, they're exercising a right the state surrendered.