The capitalist world seems to be in perpetual change, but no matter how it changes, some things remain as constant, exploitation, injustice and inequality. However, the divisions have become clearer, the lines more clearly drawn, which side to choose has become simpler. We are witnessing a world of greed and inequality laid bare, the façade has fallen, the illusion is melting into a thin haze.
The dreams we have held in our hearts for generations are now being seen as possible, seen as the only answer, the only way. The debating should be over, it is time to gather your friends, step outside the ”economy” create communes in the cities, in the valleys and the fields, link your communities through bonds of mutual aid. Each creaking capitalist crisis, widens our path, re-enforces our dream, opens opportunities.
It is now obvious the we, the ordinary people, must put ourselves on a war footing and accept the we are fighting a class war we can’t afford to lose, and act accordingly. If we win, the world is ours, to fashion as we wish, to see to the needs of all our people. If we lose, we remain on our knees, in servitude to corporate capital, and will hand that legacy to our children and grandchildren.
The dreams we have held in our hearts for generations are now being seen as possible, seen as the only answer, the only way. The debating should be over, it is time to gather your friends, step outside the ”economy” create communes in the cities, in the valleys and the fields, link your communities through bonds of mutual aid. Each creaking capitalist crisis, widens our path, re-enforces our dream, opens opportunities.
It is now obvious the we, the ordinary people, must put ourselves on a war footing and accept the we are fighting a class war we can’t afford to lose, and act accordingly. If we win, the world is ours, to fashion as we wish, to see to the needs of all our people. If we lose, we remain on our knees, in servitude to corporate capital, and will hand that legacy to our children and grandchildren.
The Mask Of Anarchy.
'rise like lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number,
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you --
Ye are many -- they are few.
`What is Freedom? -- ye can tell
That which slavery is, too well --
For its very name has grown
To an echo of your own.
'Tis to work and have such pay
As just keeps life from day to day
In your limbs, as in a cell
For the tyrants' use to dwell,
`So that ye for them are made
Loom, and plough, and sword, and spade,
With or without your own will bent
To their defence and nourishment.
Percy Bysshe Shelley.