Eric Scheske: The Daily Eudemon

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Latest — 07 Feb 2026

Welcome to the Internet's Longest-Suffering Blog

The Daily Eudemon: Essays for the restless mind in a crumbling age (Public). Its Scrolling Blog: A throwback to TDE's early days in 2002 (Free Members Only . . . If you've lost your password, the login link to your email is very easy to use)

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The Roaring Twenties

They roared with alcohol

Get Outside and Walk

A local man told my son-in-law, "We call your father-in-law 'The Walker.'" He might as well have said they call me "The Well Hung," I was so pleased. When Wittgenstein quit Cambridge and moved to Ireland, he walked. And walked. Then walked some more.

We've All Become at Least a Bit Monstrous Because Our Culture is Very Monstrous

Abnormality pumped Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire's nads. The 19th-century French natural scientist was fascinated by things like a two-headed calf and a stillborn pig fetus with a single eye at the center of its face. They were "monsters" in the medievalist's Latin jargon: monstrare: to show,

The Federal Government is So Numb and Bloated, It Doesn't Even Know When It Gets Raped

Nellie Bowles nails it this morning when discussing ethnic groups' tendency to defraud the government: In general, I appreciate all the grassroots efforts to eradicate public services fraud. I went all in on DOGE, guys. I was defending Big Balls till the shrinkage. We need a national anti-fraud movement.

Fighting for One's Soul in the Digital Age

The Savonarola Option

Savonarola, Dominican Monk (1452-1498)

Some cultures are so spiritually poisonous, they need to be burned.

Whales are Fish

Don't let some 19th-century egghead tell you any different

This Short Satire Piece Savages the Left Hemisphere in Action

To some extent, every piece of satire savages the L.H.

Wake Up and Slap that Left Hemisphere

Hallucinations are more plentiful than cocaine at a 1980s Malibu beach house party. The psychic function has no direction. A wild throng carouses through the mind, brooding demons appear, then morph into reflections from the past, which suddenly dominate, then disappear. That’s not just me staring at the bottom