book reviews

Book reviews by and for those seeking to understand the human mind for all its strengths, quirks and shortcomings.

The power of branding, and the creation of an illusion of higher level authority! part 2 B
I like- really like your very good way to express yourself: ''it’s also about power, branding, and the creation of an illusion of “higher level” authority.''
By CA'DE LUCE4 days ago in Psyche
The power of branding, and the creation of an illusion of higher level authority! Part 3
Look at the dutch use of the word! French, Serbian, romanian! My goodness! An avalanche or a waterfall - if you prefer- of subsequent error and failures to be correct!
By CA'DE LUCE4 days ago in Psyche
Essence, Embodiment, and Relational Reality
The Failure of Reduction and the Need for Synthesis There is a persistent failure in many modern attempts to explain what a human being is. Some frameworks reduce the person entirely to matter, insisting that identity, consciousness, morality, and meaning are nothing more than emergent properties of physical processes. Other frameworks move in the opposite direction, detaching spirit from reason and grounding belief in intuition alone, often at the cost of coherence or accountability. Both approaches fail because both misunderstand essence. One denies that essence exists at all. The other treats it as something vague and undefinable.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast7 days ago in Psyche
Resistance Is Not the Enemy
Iron sharpens iron. Brakes save lives. Friction preserves form. Modern culture treats resistance as failure. Anything that slows momentum is framed as obstruction, anything that introduces friction is assumed to be opposition, and anything that interrupts progress is labeled a setback. But this instinct misunderstands how both physical systems and human growth actually work. Resistance is not inherently hostile. In many cases, it is the only thing preventing collapse.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast8 days ago in Psyche
The Refiner’s Fire Is Not the Whetstone
There is a difference between being sharpened and being transformed, and confusing the two leads to frustration when growth does not feel productive. Sharpening implies refinement of existing form. Fire implies change in composition. Both processes are uncomfortable, but they operate on different levels and for different purposes. When people expect sharpening and receive fire instead, they often assume something has gone wrong, when in reality something deeper is taking place.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast8 days ago in Psyche
You See From Where You Stand
"The room remains full whether you can see it or not." One of the most persistent misunderstandings about perception is the assumption that seeing is the same as knowing. People often believe that if something feels clear, it must be complete, and if something feels obscure, it must be absent. But awareness does not work that way. What you perceive at any moment is not a measure of what exists. It is a measure of what your current position allows to pass through.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast8 days ago in Psyche
You Are Not Empty, You Are Overloaded
You are not empty. You are not broken. You are not dull. - You are overloaded. - People often describe certain mental states as “having nothing in their head,” but that description is almost always inaccurate. What feels like emptiness is usually saturation. The mind has not stopped producing content. It has lost spare capacity. The system is busy allocating energy toward coping, regulating, or enduring, and there is little left over for reflection, synthesis, or creativity. This distinction matters, because mistaking overload for emptiness leads people to judge themselves harshly for conditions that are largely structural and biological.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast8 days ago in Psyche
Owning Your Time Is the Real Luxury
At exactly 6:47 a.m., Adam’s phone vibrated on the bedside table. Not an alarm—just another notification. A message from work. Another email marked “urgent.” Before his feet even touched the floor, his mind was already racing through tasks, deadlines, and expectations. He hadn’t chosen to wake up yet, but the world had chosen for him. Adam used to believe luxury meant expensive watches, fast cars, and first-class flights. He worked hard, climbed the ladder, and earned enough to afford things he once admired from afar. From the outside, his life looked successful. From the inside, it felt rented—every hour owned by someone else. This is a familiar story in modern life. We are surrounded by conveniences designed to save time, yet we feel more rushed than ever. Calendars are full, inboxes never sleep, and “free time” feels like a rare accident instead of a basic right. Somewhere along the way, time stopped being ours. And quietly, without realizing it, we traded the most valuable asset we had. Owning your time is the real luxury—not because time is scarce, but because true ownership has become rare. Adam didn’t realize this until a random Tuesday afternoon. He was sitting in traffic, late for a meeting he didn’t care about, listening to a podcast he barely heard. A man on the show said a sentence that felt uncomfortably personal: “If you don’t decide how to spend your time, someone else will do it for you.” The traffic light turned green, but Adam didn’t move immediately. That sentence stayed with him.
By olxia10 11 days ago in Psyche
Fair Trade without robberies
Fair Trade without robberies Chapter 1 of Dark Memoirs There are at least two types of people in the world: those who write this half-assed introduction to a story that tries to distinguish the unusual from the common, and those who are aware that it is an overused framing device but choose not to use it. I tend to be in the latter camp, not the former. In case you were curious. if you asked the question in your head as if you were praying to God, Santa, or that person who was with you for the first two decades of your existence. You are aware of it. the man who went to bed with your mother that night. Looking back, I believe I was always troubled. No, I am aware of it. issues with being disconnected and detached. I really like people, but they are full of cliches, like they can't be trusted and are always wrong. Because the world is cruel and people have hearts, people are cruel. Their hearts are erratic and dishonest. You are already familiar with the kind of cliches I'm referring to. I rarely look in the mirror. Concerned about what I might see? No. I already know what I'll see, and it's not something I like. It is a waste of time to look through a looking glass for every second. Self-loathing is my full-time job, and I'm good at it without looking at that horrible jerk. As the last person so many people see before they expire, I do feel they're relieved by death's imminent arrival. As a result of the darkened realization that dances across their face as I call time, there will be no robberies. I'd say that it gives me a sense of purpose and even joy, but I'm much more than just driven by basic human needs. Glib. That is a word that is rarely used. It feels appropriate, even in my memoirs, which are heavy on erudition and grandiosity. According to the Collins Dictionary, the term "glib" refers to something that is simple and effortless, but frequently in a deceptive, superficial, or insincere manner. Perfect.
By Silent Truth 22 days ago in Psyche
The Speed of Life
We live in an age where speed is celebrated. Faster internet, faster success, faster replies, faster results. From the moment we wake up, life seems to press a silent accelerator. Notifications buzz, deadlines chase us, and comparison quietly sits in our pockets. The speed of life keeps increasing—but the quality of life often does not. This raises a powerful psychological question: Is moving faster actually helping us live better, or is it slowly draining the meaning from our lives?
By Alexander Mindabout a month ago in Psyche
The Weight of Ink
Arthur’s desk lamp threw a sickly yellow circle onto the stack of paper, illuminating the same half-finished letter he’d been staring at for the better part of a decade. His hand, gnarled and spotted with age, trembled slightly as he picked up the pen, the cheap plastic cool against his skin. Whiskey sat beside it, amber liquid shimmering in a heavy glass, untouched. Not yet. He always waited until the words, or the lack of them, had thoroughly beaten him down.
By HAADIabout a month ago in Psyche
The Night I Understood Football
I didn’t go to the game expecting hope. It was a cold November Thursday. My brother had just lost his job. My nephew hadn’t spoken in days after a school incident. The world felt heavy, and the last thing I wanted was to watch a mismatch—our hometown team facing a dynasty that hadn’t lost in months.
By KAMRAN AHMADabout a month ago in Psyche