"negative peace "
toxic positivity/ negative peace aside, I would imagine that not being represented within the established political hegemony could foster some negative emotional response.
antiwork no longer means the abolition of the oppressive relationship with the capital owning class in which we sell our labor as a commodity.
it's been completely co-opted as a place for milquetoast reform (capitalism will work if we put the right people in charge and call it socialism), and low-effort outrage-porn.
imagine a society not dependent on individual charity (with wealth expropriated from the working class) for improving material wellbeing.
does a 'nice' king justify monarchy?
no. power centralized in the beaurocratic state apparatus is also oppressive. electoral politics are a sham, and democracy is impotent when the capital owning class can simply buy influence.
if 9 people vote to kill the 10th, is that just?
itt: those in the priveledged position to rely on the state for defense of self and community would rob others of the ability to enforce their bodily autonomy and community defense.
'only the [fascist] cops should be armed' brain worms,
enforcing the capital owning class' monopoly of violence (against ourselves),
a negative peace at the expense of justice.
you know-- bootlickers.
your position presupposes that capitalism can serve to improve our collective wellbeing, when it is fundamentally an oppressive heirarchy enforced through violence.
news flash: if you do not own capital, capitalism's essential function is not to improve your material condition, but that of the capital owning class.
edit: civility
argument through analogy is a logical fallacy, I'm not going to engage that.
you've yet to convince me that further entrenching capitalism (which requires scarcity to the extent that it will create it where there need be none, and demands endless quarterly growth within a limited system) is a solution to the environmental destruction to which it contributes.
it seems to me as though you would like to eat your cake and have it too.
private ownership of capital is a race to the bottom, leading inevitably to unsustainable extraction of natural resources. The latter won't be halted or reversed without abolishing the former.
we need power to be distributed horizontally, not continue to be concentrated in fewer and fewer actors.
the non profit industrial complex serves to launder the reputations of the ownership class without meaningfully addressing oppressive systems or threatening the status quo.
it's actually from Hungary, but I'm not going to defend auth apologists lol
landlords ought not exist
"...frustrated at Britain’s attempts to help Ireland during the Irish famine..."
lol. was this written by an English aristocrat?
what is generational wealth?
I'm an anarchist.
Lenin coined the term state capitalism, replacing private ownership of the means with a new class heirarchy in the form of an inequitable and unjust beaurocratic state apparatus.
No state has ever liberated the working class.
you're not entirely wrong, I'm just not interested in performing the emotional labor of handholding.
incredibly simplistic perspective, and intellectually dishonest; we traded monarchy for a dictatorship of the capital owning class.
I was shooting heroin and reading “The Fountainhead” in the front seat of my privately owned police cruiser when a call came in. I put a quarter in the radio to activate it. It was the chief.
“Bad news, detective. We got a situation.”
“What? Is the mayor trying to ban trans fats again?”
“Worse. Somebody just stole four hundred and forty-seven million dollars’ worth of bitcoins.”
The heroin needle practically fell out of my arm. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Bitcoins are the ultimate currency: virtual, anonymous, stateless. They represent true economic freedom, not subject to arbitrary manipulation by any government. Do we have any leads?”
“Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to figure out who did this and we’re going to take them down … provided someone pays us a fair market rate to do so.”
“Easy, chief,” I said. “Any rate the market offers is, by definition, fair.”
He laughed. “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski. Now you get out there and find those bitcoins.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”
I put a quarter in the siren. Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by public sidewalks. I hopped over them and went inside.
“Home Depot™ Presents the Police!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Ron Paul. “Nobody move unless you want to!” They didn’t.
“Now, which one of you punks is going to pay me to investigate this crime?” No one spoke up.
“Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of private property is the foundation of all personal liberty?”
It didn’t seem like they did.
“Seriously, guys. Without a strong economic motivator, I’m just going to stand here and not solve this case. Cash is fine, but I prefer being paid in gold bullion or autographed Penn Jillette posters.”
Nothing. These people were stonewalling me. It almost seemed like they didn’t care that a fortune in computer money invented to buy drugs was missing.
I figured I could wait them out. I lit several cigarettes indoors. A pregnant lady coughed, and I told her that secondhand smoke is a myth. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.
“Subway™ Eat Fresh and Freeze, Scumbag!®” I yelled.
Too late. He was already out the front door. I went after him.
“Stop right there!” I yelled as I ran. He was faster than me because I always try to avoid stepping on public sidewalks. Our country needs a private-sidewalk voucher system, but, thanks to the incestuous interplay between our corrupt federal government and the public-sidewalk lobby, it will never happen.
I was losing him. “Listen, I’ll pay you to stop!” I yelled. “What would you consider an appropriate price point for stopping? I’ll offer you a thirteenth of an ounce of gold and a gently worn ‘Bob Barr ‘08’ extra-large long-sleeved men’s T-shirt!”
He turned. In his hand was a revolver that the Constitution said he had every right to own. He fired at me and missed. I pulled my own gun, put a quarter in it, and fired back. The bullet lodged in a U.S.P.S. mailbox less than a foot from his head. I shot the mailbox again, on purpose.
“All right, all right!” the man yelled, throwing down his weapon. “I give up, cop! I confess: I took the bitcoins.”
“Why’d you do it?” I asked, as I slapped a pair of Oikos™ Greek Yogurt Presents Handcuffs® on the guy.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid of an economic future free from the pernicious meddling of central bankers,” he said. “I’m a central banker.”
I wanted to coldcock the guy. Years ago, a central banker killed my partner. Instead, I shook my head.
“Let this be a message to all your central-banker friends out on the street,” I said. “No matter how many bitcoins you steal, you’ll never take away the dream of an open society based on the principles of personal and economic freedom.”
He nodded, because he knew I was right. Then he swiped his credit card to pay me for arresting him.
alt text: in the foreground a rack of lamb ribs perches golden brown on a grate above an outdoor fire. Smoke dances in the middle ground, partially obscuring a tenant farmer's cottage seen in behind.
sometimes I wish I had the lobes for capitalism