Wolfe and Fukuyama


HEGELIAN DETERMINISM: A Savage Journey to the Heart of Fukuyama’s and Wolfe’s


1. The Pitiful Delusions of Fukuyama and Wolfe:

Ah, Fukuyama, the grinning fool who dared to declare the End of History, as if human ambition could be snuffed out like a cheap cigar. In his fever dream of a book, The End of History and the Last Man, Fukuyama pompously decrees that liberal democracy is the final stop on the train ride of human evolution. It’s a grand, bloated claim rooted in Hegelian determinism—a philosophy that promises history has an inevitable end, like some grim, German-engineered march toward a preordained utopia. But history, that old trickster, laughs in the face of Fukuyama’s naive thesis as the world twists, shifts, and careens in directions he couldn’t predict.

Then there’s Tom Wolfe, the silver-maned dandy who peddled the myth of the hyper-masculine hero, strutting through the materialistic morass of the 90s like a Wall Street Gordon Gecko on steroids. Wolfe’s novels—Bonfire of the Vanities and A Man in Full—are soaked in the stench of bravado and blind ambition, casting human desires as nothing more than a sordid pursuit of cash, status, and hollow victories. Both Wolfe and Fukuyama fall into the same intellectual trap, caught in the iron jaws of Hegelian determinism, unable to see beyond the rigid framework that history spoon-fed them.

2. The Hollow Pit of Hegelian Determinism:

Fukuyama and Wolfe are shackled by the same grim, deterministic philosophy—a bleak view that history grinds forward in a series of preordained stages toward some inevitable, final endpoint. Fukuyama dreams that liberal democracy is the crown jewel, the endgame of ideological evolution, while Wolfe’s characters are doomed to chase materialistic ghosts in an endless cycle of greed. This is determinism in its most crude and bastardized form, reducing the chaos and complexity of human experience to a mere footnote in the history books.

They cling to a philosophy that strips humanity of its wild unpredictability, its capacity for invention, rebellion, and change. They see the world as a machine, clicking through its predetermined gears, oblivious to the fact that the human soul is a howling beast, ever hungry, ever restless.

3. The Razor of Continental Philosophy:

But there’s a brighter corner of this intellectual landscape—a place where Continental philosophy takes a rusty knife to the throats of Fukuyama and Wolfe’s half-baked ideas. These philosophers don’t wallow in deterministic despair; they revel in the messy, bloody business of being human.

  • Symbolic: Language and culture shape human ambition, not some grand historical force. Fukuyama’s thesis is blind to this, and Wolfe’s characters stumble through a world without realizing the cultural strings that pull their limbs.
  • Performative: Reality isn’t a predetermined script; it’s something we create with every damn action we take. Fukuyama and Wolfe don’t see that humans are mad creators, constantly reshaping the world through sheer will and chaos.
  • Virtual: The future isn’t written in stone; it’s a realm of unrealized potential, a wild frontier where anything is possible. Fukuyama, in his dim wisdom, declares history dead, while Wolfe’s characters rot in their materialistic graves, oblivious to the infinite possibilities they ignore.
  • Imaginary: Human ambition isn’t just about tangible achievements; it’s driven by illusions, dreams, and myths. Fukuyama and Wolfe cling to simplistic narratives, failing to see that reality is just a smokescreen for the wild dreams that drive us all.
  • Simulacra: In this postmodern circus, the line between reality and representation is blurred, twisted beyond recognition. Fukuyama’s end of history is a mirage, and Wolfe’s heroes are chasing shadows, trapped in a world where nothing is as it seems.
  • Intertextual: Meaning doesn’t come from isolated events; it’s born from the tangled web of references, influences, and connections that span across time and culture. Fukuyama and Wolfe’s narrow views are like horses with blinders, missing the vast intertextual landscape that truly shapes human ambition.
  • Existential: Meaning isn’t handed down from on high; it’s something we carve out of the rock with our own hands. Fukuyama’s deterministic drivel and Wolfe’s materialistic myopia fail to capture the raw, existential truth that human life is a continuous struggle to create meaning from the void.

4. Conclusion:

Fukuyama and Wolfe, those sad devotees of Hegelian determinism, are stuck in a mental swamp, unable to see beyond the narrow confines of their own flawed theories. They reduce the vastness of human ambition to a series of simplistic binaries, missing the rich, chaotic, and unpredictable reality that drives us forward. Continental philosophy, with its nuanced insights into the symbolic, performative, virtual, imaginary, simulacra, intertextual, and existential, cuts through their bullshit, offering a truer, more complex vision of human existence.

This critique isn’t just a takedown of Fukuyama’s and Wolfe’s misguided views; it’s a call to arms—a reminder that human ambition and societal evolution are far too wild, too chaotic, and too damn interesting to be confined to the dreary dictates of Hegelian determinism. If we’re to understand the world, we must embrace its complexities, its contradictions, and its infinite potential for change. Anything less is intellectual cowardice.


This savage dissection aims to tear apart the hollow theories of Fukuyama and Wolfe, exposing the crude determinism at their core and celebrating the chaotic beauty of human ambition.