One Foot Out

Yet I live inside the lie too.

This is the man I’d have been at forty if I’d dragged the other foot out at 21, and never gone back to ‘school’, that place that teaches you ultimately how to have middle-class vassal aspirations.

Interview with the ‘Anarchist’: His name is Dirt. Dirt says:

“If you’re willing to do anything for what you believe you quickly become the bad guy no matter how good what you believe is. All the fascists in history, thought they had this great Idea … and that everyone should Believe … we’ll MAKE them Believe, ’cause I’m RIGHT … and now you’re fucking Hitler. So I just want to opt out of all of that, you know?”

He’s a mess, and he’s not wrong.

It doesn’t matter all that much if your Idea is called Nazism or Christianity or American Democracy or Islam or Utilitarianism. You think it’s great … great. But once you start thinking everyone should, say, believe in Democracy and Capitalism, and you get hold of some money, and then power, you WILL force it down their throats for their own good, because after all you’re right! (And the anarchic Natives, the recalcitrant kindergartners or sophomores, are always ipso facto wrong.)

When you take it that far, and convert them at the point of a metaphorical or real gun, you’re Hitler. Even if you really are ‘greeted as a liberator’ by some toady percentage of your victims, as Bush wrongly predicted about the Iraqis, you’re still killing and supporting the killing and funding and collaterally damaging and maiming and orphaning and brainwashing in the name of woke prosperous liberty Jesus all over the world; and you’re sitting there believing it was for the best. ‘It’s not a good system, but gosh darn it it’s the best one there is, anyway’.

Unless, and this is pretty much and almost the only alternative, you choose, or have no alternative but, to be Dirt.

One thought on “One Foot Out

  1. When I say you, I mean we. I have no right to judge you separate from myself. We.

    Dirt is a pretty awful spokesmodel for Anarchism, and so is every other real anarchist ever. What do you mean you draw the line at eating rotten meat out of a dumpster, you bourgeois holier-than-thou fuck?

    I don’t wish his life on myself or anyone.

    I do feel for him, and to a point I admire him.

    I wonder which aquifer he means, right there at the end.

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