What does the most radical thinker of modernity have to do with cycling? Officially nothing: Nietzsche was a passionate hiker, and bicycles were conspicuously absent from his biography. Yet, his philosophy brilliantly anticipated the bicycle.

From the Buddhist Kala-Chakra up to Zarathustra's vision of the "self-rolling wheel," this essay embarks on a fascinating quest. It shows why the bicycle is far more than a mere means of transport: It is a philosophical instrument that teaches us the dynamic balance of life and makes the "Eternal Recurrence of the Same" palpable in the wind. An invitation to set thought in motion.

From the hedge-fund billions that bankroll Nigel Farage, and tie that funding to evangelical expansionism, to Nietzsche’s fulminating assault on Christianity as a “slave revolt”: this essay tracks the troubling way religion has reappeared at the heart of British public life. Arriving in London with walking boots, a rucksack, and a philosopher’s skepticism, the author follows the money, theology, and street culture surrounding charismatic Christianity and its seemingly unappeasable growth. At the centre stands Sir Paul Marshall: billionaire financier, Christian media mogul, and embodiment of a faith that feels entitled to reach for elite power.

But this is more than merely an unveiling of the knot that binds together wealth and religion. It is also a confrontation with Nietzsche’s deepest historical claim: that Christianity triumphed because the so-called weak learned to moralize against the strong. Wandering through churches, cafés, and city streets, the essay asks whether contemporary evangelical London represents a new form of that revolt—or its complete inversion.

Part I explores the rise of influential evangelical networks in modern Britain and their uneasy alliance with finance capitalism. Part II, which will appear shortly, returns to the first Christians themselves.

This article is a follow-up to Henry Holland’s account of hiking through Glasgow’s Muslim Southside (part I, part II).

War in Europe was considered unthinkable for a long time — until it became a reality. But how can peace be thought of when normative guarantees fail? What if there are a few powerful and many weak players? Friedrich Nietzsche devised a surprisingly timely answer in 1879: Peace is not a sign of weakness, but an actively negotiated balance of power. He showed how a stable peace obliges all actors to build up their own strength. Nietzsche's transformation from an advocate of war to a thinker of peace based on strength is an admonition — also and especially to the weaker.