Spirituality – Page 2

Why Conspiracy Theories?

September 19, 2026 by Xenofact

“Why are you so interested in Conspiracy Theories?” is honestly kind of a good question. I write on spirituality and philosophy, meditation and culture. Why am I also interested in people convinced Reptoids are putting 5G in our vaccines beyond, you know, curiosity?

Well, curiosity is part of it. I’ve been interested in Conspiracy Theories since the 80s. I had an interest in paranormal phenomena (especially UFOs and cryptids) early on in life, and became more aware of Conspiracy Theories in the 80s through mix of politics, interest in weird phenomena, and a Psychology degree. Honestly, that’s a trio of interests right there that explains a lot – I just find them fascinating.

But there is more to it than curiosity, but trust me, don’t discount my ability to go “that’s f-ed up, tell me more.”

First, I am interested in Conspiracy Theories as they impact our lives. Even if I had no other interest in them, the fact is they have and do affect our world. As I write this in 2026 we’ve got an entire American Administration of Too-Online Conspiracy Theorists. People have killed others over extreme beliefs. You have to be aware of them for your own safety and to avoid falling into them.

Conspiracy Theories have affected my life and the lives of others very directly. Very directly.

However, I am also fascinated my the history of Conspiracy Theories. How they work, how they’re believed, why, and how long they’ve lasted are intriguing. An enormous amount of Conspiracy Theories are just repurposed older conspiracy theories, and when you scrape the bottom, it’s usually down to some ethnic, racial, or religious bias. Or as I heard it put in Western Conspiracy Theories, if you go deep enough on almost any theory you end up at racism (and usually antisemitism).

You learn a lot about people and culture by studying Conspiracy Theories. Most of it depressing, some of it a warning, all of it fascinating.

But finally out of all of this I am fascinated by the nature of belief.

Studying Conspiracy Theories tells you a lot about how and why people believe things. What speaks to people (and to different kinds of people). How social ties (or lack of same) affects belief. The borders between Conspiracy Theories and cults, or lack of same. How someone comes to hold terrible, inaccurate, and at times vicious beliefs is fascinating, but also important.

It’s important as we will deal with people who have such beliefs. We might have to talk them down. But also we might fall for them, and forewarned is forearmed. To understand such beliefs is to hopefully develop an immune system against them.

That mental immune system is important especially in areas of spirituality, the paranormal, and other spheres I move in. These areas are rife with Conspiracy Theories or are hijacked by bad actors. A little knowledge is an excellent preventative – and it may prevent you from being overcautious in some cases.

So in the end, I’m fascinated by Conspiracy Theories, but they also tell me a lot about people. They tell me about myself.

I might not always like what I see, but at least I’ll dislike it early enough.

–Xenofact

Hyperpolitics: A Review And More

August 16, 2026 by Xenofact

I usually write about spirituality and psychology, venturing into politics here and there from those point of views. So reviewing a political book may seem different, but hang in there and trust me on this.

I’d heard about Anton Jäger’s book Hyperpolitics in a Guardian article about the same book and how it was becoming popular, especially on the left. I’d not heard of it at all, but after reading a description of the theories, I immediately ordered a copy after reading the article.

What’s it about? Simply, why things seem to be super-political and why nothing gets better and everything gets worse. It’s a hefty order for Jäger, who spells out his theories in less than 100 pages. Though he said the easiest way to describe himself would be a Marxist “even with all the baggage and connotations,” his book is hardly a work of a singular theory or theories. There’s something bigger here.

I’ll also spoil the “bigger.” He argues that you can measure our experiences in the 20th and 21st century by levels of Politicization and Institutionalization and that’s key to understanding our time in 2026, when I’m writing this. It breaks down like this:

Early 20th century was Mass Politics – Politicized and Institutionalized. Unions, churches clubs, political groups, etc. were political and institutional, and part of people’s lives.
In the later 20th Century to about 2008 we saw Post-politics – Decreased institutionalization and politicization. Ideas of the “End of History,” political parties as careers even more than they were. Technocracy. The start of endless discussions of how isolated we were.
Antipolitics,the burn-it-all-down era of the early 21st century was political but not institutional. There was less lifestyle, no membership roles, etc. There was, I would note, astroturfing.
Hyperpolitics is where we are now and it’s in the same area of Antipolitics, but is an age of outburst. Everything is political, but there’s no institutionalization, so nothing much gets done. The way I describe Jäger’s take is an age of outbursts, of tantrums.

It’s a simple model, but Jäger brings receipts. I can also say having lived through the decades he describes, his book fit my experiences uncomfortably well. When a book makes you rethink some 40 years of life and what you saw, it’s worth paying attention.

He also is more than willing to discuss failures of supposedly progressive and left-wing movements in these times. The same uncomfortable feeling is there when you see good ideas gone wrong or fade away. If there’s a flaw in his analysis of modern movements, he does miss that some things failed but did leave behind cultural infrastructure, albeit not so much a movement but the seeds of something longer-term.

Now we’ve got to try to rebuild thing. Jäger has some ideas. He has some skepticism. Ironically I think what his book spawned may be more important the book. You could sum up his ideas in a page or two, its what comes after that matters.

So is it worth it? Pretty much yes. So go read it, I’m pretty sure if you read my writing you’d want to read his.

However I promised this was relevant to my interest in philosophy and religion, and I think Jäger’s model also requires us to ask about the role of religion, philosophy, and spiritual practices. The value of cultural institutions is clear from his writing – in fact, no small amount of Hyperpolitics is things seeming to be glaringly obvious in retrospect. So where does that leave us in a time of hyperpolitical churches, diverse spiritual practices, and grifter Internet gurus?

I think that many of us who are “spiritually independent” – and that includes me – need to take a hard look if we and the world are better served by more spiritual organization and institutionalization. What are our practices if they aren’t connected to something larger? What is being missed? What spiritual progress will we make by getting our hands dirty?

Uncomfortable? Perhaps. But as noted, Jäger’s book produced a lot of discomfort for me, in a good way.

In my own interests in the history of Taoists and various Chinese philosophical groups, I confess to a longing for things I read about. Weirdo artists and mystics gathering in a grove to drink and discuss. Writers exchanging ideas and books and poems. Contentious but sincere mystic orders. Something institutional not necessarily in the way of a formal church but of connection and camaraderie and continuity. I think that longing for spiritual community does indicate something is missing – perhaps at least for me.

As of this writing, I am asking about community building, about connection. What can be built? What is there now (the area I live in has several multifaith and secular-minded groups)? It’s leading me to ask more questions. Jäger found something, and I’m going to see what he dug up.

–Xenofact

The Beautiful Smallness of Largeness

July 12, 2026 by Xenofact

We only become more of who we are by opening to the world and opening it up to others.

I’ve worked to find a way to formulate this, and Roberto Unger’s book “The Religion of The Future” (a heavy read but worth it if you’re into religion and psychology) helps. Unger’s idea of a deliberately-constructed religion is one that confronts the impermanence and unsurety of the world to construct a society that would let us grow and develop, being more godlike by being more human. As I put it with affectionate snark, he starts with Buddhist realizations, imagines a functional society with Confucian precision, leading to a world where we hope to evolve ourselves and each other in freedom towards salvation reminiscent of some radical Christian sects.

Unger, even if I question some of his work and opinions, is a deep believer in humanity, and a future and world for all. He wants us to see the spirit, the divine spark, in ourselves and others and to evolve it. If anything, I’d argue his work doesn’t go deep enough into exploring how a view of “let all evolve” is a *spiritual necessity for development* – something I’ve long considered. And now he gives me a launch point I needed.

For those of us familiar with Buddhism and some later syncretic Taoism, the idea of “liberating all” is a vital part of doctrine. One does not just aspire to be liberated from suffering or Attain the Tao, or whatever and walk away. One wishes it for all people, all beings, and in that way, we step out of the shell of our limited ideas of self.

For that, we must walk into the world, and deal with people. We must wish the best for them, not in condescension or false feeling, but on our journey. We have to confront difficult and even dangerous people. This takes us outside of ourselves, our comfort zones. We feel empathy, we put down our barriers, by imagining a world where everyone is “more human and thus more divine.”

Each time we do this, something in us cracks. Boundaries go down. Understanding of people goes up – and thus understanding of ourselves. We remember that we are not separate from the world, we are part of it in a kind of dialogue. We are reminded of how we can evolve and grow – and we do.

Yet, strangely, we also get smaller. We’re less inclined to coddle our biases and bigotries. We’ve got less defined borders. So much of “us” is defined as “not being them” or “not being that” and those are burdens. By letting go so much of us, we become less of what we think we are and more of what we are and who we can be.

You only get to the top by going towards the bottom. So many religious and spiritual practices reminds us to help others, to be engaged in real life, to be there, among the dirt and sadness and reality. That cracks our shells and breaks us so the real us can emerge.

It’s difficult of course. Society is challenging. People can be assholes. But how we relate to people and what kind of world we build is part of our spiritual journey. We just have to figure how to deal with the pathological societies and individuals we face – and how such journeys can help us and others grow. No one said it would be easy, there are no guarantees.

I’d rather become small to become large than walk around in random shackles history gave me.

–Xenofact