It comes to sight, through a belt of shadowy light, a trashy and fraudulent (politically motivated) newspaper headline:
Found on the internet:
I recast this, the correction being made: Zizek is a flashy intellectual. Peterson may be a philosopher. Marx was the first grand ideologist.
Why? Because in antiquity all philosophy (however: this means, sophistry, megerintism, and other things, as well as the winning, relativising (through the uttermost dominating of the human depths, by manfully setting the rudder and “rutter”) Plato and Aristotle essentially concerned live public concerns lived in public. Catholicism and, a fortiori, European science, was not there to offer a ready-made metaphysics, so even the most abstruse searchings after hidden things, appealing to the human essence, and as such demanded by man as man (that is to say, in the interpretation: the human being). Human beings must, through their nature, if I may, have some answers to the question of what the whole or all things is. Today, in greatly transformed cosmopolitan circumstances, all discussion is rapid, formed by large city short-talk, by the need for sudden speech. Peterson is the first to enter this utterly strange world space with sudden force. Ergo, the preservation of the traditional core of the philosopher, in the contemporary, is not impossible.
Peterson moves in the living discussion, and superlatively owns his own positions. His formula is equal to the ad hominem in the Socratic sense: “don’t say things that make you weak”. Ergo, say things that are in the core of your being, rather than putting, merely on the lips, “arguments”. Strength of mind not yet clarified, perhaps a mediocrity, but, maybe not. One who has done some thinking, and may have the ability to think. Basically unpolitical, though buttered at every point by the press as a right-wing hack piece of steaming toast as though he were a “party man”.
Zizek: A scholar and brilliant intellectual tactician who reads German philosophers of the short period of the German spring into the strange light of time, and writes innumerable entertaining books and articles. A professor of philosophy, ergo, one who does not deserve, and lacks the philosophic sense, to be a philosopher. Largely the product of the Soviet machine, essentially weak minded; comedianism appealing to the ravenous maw of the multitude of hungry academic superficiality and politics. At least as anti-philosophic as the clan of sophists and the megarantists.