Anarchism, Insanity, and Love

An anarchist appeals to nothing less than the idea of infinite human possibility.  For freedom to flourish, individuals must retain their own power; no government, no capitalist, and no god have the authority to circumscribe human life.  Yet these hierarchies are ubiquitous, so our consciousness and behavior mimic these power structures.  Our struggle is signified with impossible goals because the weight of human suffering demands it.  Freedom is life, and life is precious enough to die for.  So out of a love for life anarchists must persist in their insanity.  

Vulgar socialism […] has taken over from the bourgeois economists the consideration and treatment of distribution as independent of the mode of production, and hence the presentation of socialism as turning principally upon distribution. After the real relation has long been made clear, why retrogress again?

— Karl Marx, Critique of the Gotha Programme  (via rethinksocialism)

I never understood why even socialists only talk about socialism in terms of just giving people more stuff. It’s about people having equal power, freedom, and opportunity, not simply by spreading around the wealth, but by changing our social relations and the structure of our society. Welfare isn’t socialism, although, I think if given equal power the people would more adequately redistribute accumulated wealth (and its been shown that even your typical American would/does prefer a more equal wealth distribution).   

What’s in an online self?

Think of someone who’s tumblr you really like, but have never met face-to-face. In what relation do you stand to that blogger’s essence? What is the aggregation of information and ideational expression that we produce when we create avatars, and interact with others via the internet? There is presumably no limit on the amount of information about oneself which can be communicated digitally, or manifested vicariously in the form of an avatar. As virtual-reality technology proliferates and progresses, this will become even more clear. 

Am I getting at anything? Are the parallel implications of multiple selves, immortality, and personal identity just going to be torn asunder by online selves? Why are issues about the self simultaneously the most confusing and most straightforward questions in philosophy?

slow the fuck down

Was there any sincerity the last ten times you uttered the phrase “how are you?”

Routine makes life easy, easy life numbs the soul. Surely growth and excitement are both only experienced alongside challenge and change. But what’s new about the cycles of the moon, let alone your day? 

The most comforting structures are actually the best at suffocating you. And if you sacrifice the present consistently enough you just might succeed!  

Is it too late?

Are humans too malleable? Too easily dominated, brainwashed, and domesticated by structures of oppression and violence, if for no other reason than mere physical survival and relative cognitive harmony? The real question is what do the rest of us do, those who see unsustainability continually; political theater and the media’s obession with the minutiae… What about the planet, species going extinct, the hungry, the broken, the tired..? How can we save ourselves and what if we cannot? 

We revolutionaries swim against an overwhelming tide of injustice; I fear in the end we may all drown — if not suddenly, then slowly through fatigue and demoralization. 

"He, on the other, who really could sympathise therewith, would have to despair of the value of life; were he to succeed in comprehending and feeling in himself the general consciousness of mandkind, he would collapse with a curse on existence; for mankind as a whole has no goals, consequently man, in considering his whole course, cannot find in it his comfort and support, but his despair. If, in all that he does, he considers the final aimlessness of man, his own activity assumes in his eyes the character of wastefulness. But to feel ones self just as much wasted as humanity (and not only as an individual) as we see the single blossom of nature wasted, is a feeling above all other feelings. But who is capable of it? Assuredly only a poet, and poets always know how to console themselves".

— Nietzsche, Human, All-Too-Human