Knowledge Fight Interactive Search Tool

All Episodes

Previous Next

June 4, 2025 - Lionel Nation

13:13

Eric Weinstein’s Piers Morgan MELTDOWN: The New Irwin Corey Sh*ts After Sean Carroll Torches Him

Large

Audio Only |

Scroll

Time	Text
	My friends, I believed for the longest time, and I would have attested to the fact that the individual who was the most full of shit, pardon my French, I hate to use that term, other than in this particular way, but it's a term that I think best explicates and limbs and expatiates the particular feelings that I'm trying to convey, but...
	I thought Jordan Peterson, hands down, was absolutely septic in terms of his full-of-it-ness that he exhibited.
	Well, folks, the day has finally arrived.
	That's right.
	Pack up the maps of lobsters and put away the Jungian shadow puppets or whatever the hell this guy was talking about and lower the Canadian flag.
	That's right, because Jordan Peterson, as of today, has officially been dethroned.
	It is true.
	That's right.
	The new reigning king of, I guess, over-intellectualized nonsense, gibberish, the sultan of smug verbosity, ladies and gentlemen.
	The oracle of orbiting irrelevance is none other than Eric Weinstein.
	Yes, that Eric Weinstein.
	The man who can say literally nothing in 3,000 words and still make you feel...
	He is a genius in saying nothing!
	Nothing!
	With Jordan Peterson, he says nothing, but you know he's saying nothing.
	But with Eric Weinstein, you think, and then you think, no!
	Bullshit.
	Totally.
	Now let's be fair.
	Or at least, well, pretend to be fair.
	Eric Weinstein is a smart guy.
	Everybody knows this.
	He's got a background in mathematics, a PhD in that.
	Oh, that unique ability to condescend to every person in the room without blinking.
	But lately, lately watching Eric try to explain anything feels like watching, I guess it feels like someone trying to solve a Rubik's Cube blindfolded underwater while explaining string theory in Esperanto.
	I mean, it is incredible.
	His recent interview.
	Or a discussion with Sean Carroll, featuring a cringe cameo on Piers Morgan's platform, of all places, was the final straw.
	This is the one for the ages, and I don't think he knows it.
	If there were an Olympic event for sounding brilliant while saying absolutely nothing of value, Eric Weinstein is the Jesse Owens.
	He just stuck the landing.
	And broke the judges' scorecards.
	He is a perfect 10, the Nadia Komenich of nonsense.
	Let's talk about that interview, shall we?
	And I'm not going to post it.
	You see it, go see it.
	You don't need me to, but you've seen enough.
	Or if you haven't, look it up.
	What am I, spoon feeding you everything?
	It was a dazzling hour of theoretical hedging.
	Philosophical bait-and-switching and quantum vocabulary word salad, logolalia, verbal incontinence served with a side of smug.
	And Carroll just destroyed him.
	You'd think he was unraveling the secrets of the universe when in fact he was just name-dropping physics concepts the way hipsters drop.
	You know, vinyl records at a party, these cultural references to things and aspects of physics and particle physics and the like, which we lay people just don't know.
	And the best part about the whole thing, he doesn't even understand what makes it funny.
	He doesn't understand that he's the punchline.
	He doesn't understand he's the joke.
	The man has, in true Dunning-Kruger fashion, passed Through the event horizon of self-awareness and come out the other side convinced, convinced he's invented a new type of black hole.
	One, one that in this particular case devours coherence.
	He is like none other.
	He's the Erwin Corey of our times.
	But Erwin Corey was at least funny.
	He's serious.
	Eric Weinstein talks a lot about being part of the intellectual dark web.
	You should be so lucky.
	Which is frankly kind of adorable if you think about it really, considering it sounds like a term invented by someone who just learned about 4chan and I guess wanted to sound cool at the next TEDx event or something.
	I don't know.
	But here's the truth.
	The only thing dark about Eric's web is the void of clarity, the absence of any limpidity or pellucidity.
	In any of his explanations or explications or attempted such.
	He's like a sentient thesaurus on mushrooms.
	Every answer to a simple question requires a 10-minute monologue referencing Schrodinger, a childhood trauma, and something.
	Vaguely anti-establishment, just to make sure, just to make sure, just to guarantee you know he's not like those other academics.
	I mean, he is one of a kind.
	And again, he doesn't understand it.
	Now compare this to Jordan Peterson, the OG king of intellectual convolution.
	At least when Jordan goes on a word-salad bender, you can, you know, vaguely follow the theme.
	Maybe, sometimes, you know, grabbing something, something, About order and chaos or clean your room and lobsters and standing up straight and hierarchies and Dostoevsky or something.
	I don't know what he's talking about.
	But Eric Weinstein?
	Oh, no, no.
	Eric, no.
	He's still a sentence.
	He'll start with a sentence about AI and end it explaining why the metric tensor disproves mainstream biology while vaguely insulting Neil deGrasse Tyson in the process.
	I guess, I don't even know.
	It's nonsense.
	And every time we see him, we say, oh, I want to see what he has to say.
	And everybody, look how this one physicist, Wynn and others, I mean, they destroy him.
	It's the new parlor game.
	It's the new National pastime.
	It's not a conversation with him.
	It's this hostage situation where the ransom is your attention span, and it's getting worse.
	And again, he doesn't get it.
	But here's the kicker.
	No one, no one, no one actually understands Eric Weinstein, including him.
	Not his fans, not his interviewers, not his brother, this poor guy.
	Oh my god, he's like the Jerry Van Dyke of brothers, you know, talented, but not exactly the main guy.
	But I don't even think Eric really understands what he's saying.
	It's like he swallowed a physics textbook, maybe, and is now trying to hack it back up in Morse code or something.
	I don't understand it.
	The result is a kind of academic jazz.
	You know, technically...
	His arguments are just complicated enough to sound important, to sound critical, but never coherent enough to be challenged or understood.
	And that's the trick.
	That's the Weinstein effect.
	He's beautiful.
	There's also this lingering suspicion that Eric...
	He really does.
	You know it's true.
	He talks in this slow, kind of deliberate monotone, as if pausing makes the nonsense more profound or something, as if he's graciously waiting for the rest of humanity to catch up to the blistering pace of his fourth-dimensional insights.
	Spoiler!
	We're not catching up.
	And we're not even confused.
	We don't care.
	It's like going to the Bronx Zoo and seeing some bonobo heave excrement at people.
	We don't really go into why.
	We just say, oh, that's it.
	Like a bonobo heaving excrement.
	That's Eric.
	And then there's this obsession with being a suppressed genius.
	You know the type.
	The guy who says, They won't publish my work.
	I'm too much of a rebel.
	As if academia is some, I guess, secret cabal instead of a bureaucratic nightmare run by tenured skeptics and peer reviewers who would eat their own mother for a citation, I guess.
	But Eric isn't being silenced.
	Oh, no, no, no, no.
	He's being ignored.
	And just like in the case of Fatal Attraction, I will not be ignored.
	And there's a difference.
	You see, one implies danger and the other implies irrelevance.
	Oh, he's beautiful.
	Even his followers, God bless them.
	I don't know who they are, but they don't know what they're defending.
	They'll say, you don't get it, man.
	Eric's operating on another level, man.
	Yeah, it's called gibberish.
	You know what else operates on another level?
	The guy screaming on the subway about time travel and gluten.
	That guy is doing it too.
	It doesn't mean we...
	It just means that, oh.
	I mean, he's beautiful.
	But what's most damning, if you can even think about that, is how utterly tone deaf Eric is to the absurdity of his own performance.
	I mean, he steps onto the Piers Morgan stage, right?
	With Piers Morgan, who is, oh my, in and of himself, in the pantheon of, well, he doesn't, Piers Morgan doesn't do anything.
	He just reacts.
	He puts people on the stage and hopes they say something.
	Because nobody watches Piers Morgan.
	They see these people.
	You've seen, like, Junk Yogurt and Schmule.
	They put them together.
	And you watch this.
	This is what he does.
	It's not about Piers.
	Nobody cares about Piers.
	You could put a cactus, a potted plant, and it would serve the same purpose.
	But, anywho, he steps onto the Piers Morgan stage, already a red flag.
	And acts like he's about to deliver the Sermon on the Mount 2.0.
	Instead, again, we get this TED Talk without the slides.
	This monologue about metaphysics or something and social engineering that sounds like it was edited by Christopher Nolan on a bender or maybe Jim Ignatowski from Taxi.
	I don't know.
	But he says things like...
	But if I say it slowly and in a monotone form and use enough academic garnish and jargon and nomenclature and from my weird argot, maybe no one will notice.
	And often they don't.
	Because most people are too polite or too afraid of sounding stupid or just love watching them.
	To say what we're all thinking.
	Namely, this guy's full of shit.
	Look, this isn't about tearing down intelligence or ridiculing complex thought.
	You know the whole Terrence Howard thing.
	It's about accountability.
	It's about giving people a free pass to be incomprehensible just because they once gave a talk at MIT.
	It's about recognizing that intelligence without clarity is just...
	So congratulations, Eric.
	You have done it.
	You've surpassed Jordan Peterson in the one area that truly matters, producing high density, high concentration nonsense under the guise of enlightenment.
	You've become the voice of a movement that's not about free thought, but free-floating confusion.
	And for that, you've earned your crown.
	You've earned your crown.
	Now, if you, excuse me, I need to recalibrate my epistemic modalities, consult a non-Newtonian reference frame to decode your last interview, or maybe I'll just bang my head against the wall, same effect.
	Long live the king of confusion!
	Long live the man who officially, officially is my vote for being profoundly and totally and utterly Full of shit.
	Thank you, sir.
	Thank you.
	On behalf of a grateful nation, you've amused us beyond comprehension.
	Now, if you would be so kind as to please like this video, subscribe to the channel, and more importantly, comment, dear friends.

▲