Stories & Life
Comment 1

What’s buried in your backyard?

It’s during times like these that those of us who are End-of-The-Worlders can hold our heads up high and walk with a little dignity, for once, instead of sulking in the corners of cafes, hiding out in the gloom and glum of darkened basement rooms, except of course for the briefest of appearances which typically take the form of alarmist Jeremiads or wild-eyed apocalyptic rants. While we share wildly diverse backgrounds we all recognize the inherent fragility of the system.

And Capitalism is incredibly unstable and fragile. All hierarchies of domination and control are.

It takes a helluva lot to suppress the natural urge that human beings have to be free and to cooperate between themselves, cooperating to accomplish the synergy necessary for greatness. Cooperation is our super power, as a species, and it takes a good bit of money/power/energy/violence to suppress that it.

So why is capitalism still the dominant narrative and way of life?

One way to answer the question is that it’s precisely capitalism’s fragility that keeps it going.

Take Sleepy Joe Biden as an example. No one really wanted another straight white male moderate to be the Democratic Party nominee. Some were looking for a candidate with a more diverse perspective and background, others were ready for a more progressive platform, but most of us wanted something different. Yet in these fragile times, the straight white moderate male won the day. Again.

Go with the establishment, keep it stable. Say it ain’t so, Joe.

There seems to be something similar with capitalism. We know it’s fragile, deep down, so we’re averse to questioning it. We’re afraid that if we start pulling any of the loose threads, the whole thing will come apart. So rather than acknowledge it and name it for what it is, we go the opposite direction and glorify capitalism as some heroic system for freedom and individual self-fulfillment, etc. But we know it’s not, deep down………..especially we End-of-The-Worlders. But we’re ready. We’ve got what we need to survive, it’s all buried in the backyard….

This entry was posted in: Stories & Life

by

Writer. In the summers, I live and work in the incredible state of Alaska, in the bush community of McCarthy; I pass the winters in the Santa Cruz Mountains of California. I'm working on a memoir-based nonfiction book on the American Dream. I blog, quite frequently, and I also have a novel in process, set in Alaska.

1 Comment

  1. This post brought to mind the movie Melancholia. Don’t know if you’ve seen it; figured I’d keep it to myself but, as I was thinking about the connection, the word “melancholy” appeared before me not once but four times in the same paragraph of the novel I’m reading. From the film I remember the main character’s sense of relief, even peace, at the approaching apocalypse: I wasn’t crazy after all. From the novel: “We should be able to vent melancholy, joy, and rage all at the same time.”

    Liked by 1 person

Consider this post an invitation, an invitation to comment and collaborate, in an open-ended sort of way, so please share your...whatever it is that's on your mind: thoughts, ideas, greetings, angst/irritation, inspiration, confusion, query, rant, salutation, data/research, meme, epigram, exposition or epiphany -- because I'm all about the synergy and solidarity. ~ JE

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