A friend of mine posted this article on Facebook today, and I think the author presents some interesting, if rather stridently presented, points.
For one, modern, predominately academic critics of capitalism do seem to find themselves between a rock and hard place when it comes to confronting capitalism without at the same time supporting neoliberal policies aimed at reducing the state that ultimately target and negatively impact the working class via their reduction and/or elimination of state welfare and safety programs. As a result, they find themselves in the uncomfortable (and unenviable) position of "siding with the nation state against the historical process bound up with capitalism," and in the process, supporting state welfare and safety programs and its management of social capital along with the state itself, which ultimately represents the interests of the capitalist class and not that of labour. (I know it's something I have a difficult time reconciling in my own politics.)
Another salient point is the relative absence of Marx's labour theory of value in most of the analyses and critiques of the current crisis, and I agree that one of the things that should be at the forefront of any socialist response to the current crisis, and capitalism in general, is a demand for the reduction of labour hours.
I think the author makes similar albeit less stringently stated points in their series of articles titled "The Black Hole: Marxism, the State and the Social Revolution": "The Black Hole: Marxism, the State and the Social Revolution," "The Black Hole: Marxism, the State and the Social Revolution (2)," and "The Black Hole: Marxism, the State and the Social Revolution (3)."
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
human values > $
As I was watching a recently posted video on David Harvey's website today, I was struck by how much it seemed to resonate with an article I happened to read earlier in the day from the March, 2011 issue of the Smithsonian titled "What the Luddites Really Fought Against." Both the article and the video, The End of Stupidity in the Face of Capitalism, share a somewhat similar message, which, as it's expressed in the article, is that "it's possible to live well with technology—but only if we continually question the ways it shapes our lives." But more importantly, that to truly live well, we must stand up "against technologies [and one could easily add economic systems] that put money or convenience above other human values." And in doing so, "it may help, every now and then, to ask which of our modern machines [and production systems] General and Eliza Ludd [and critics of capitalism like Marx] would choose to break. And which they would use to break them."
guilt by association: mmcarthyism 2.0?
The potential ramifications of what this article is implying are chilling to anyone familiar with the history of McCarthyism. This article is implying, and not subtly might I add, that the Feds were unable to take action and prevent this racist asshole from shooting a bunch of people in a Sikh temple, despite being 'looked at' multiple times over the past decade, because they're "prohibited under federal law from collecting information on U.S. citizens not suspected of committing a crime" (as if they don't already do that anyway). Cue arguments against Sen. Merkley's Protect America's Privacy Act and for more intrusive government powers to spy on American citizens suspected of, well, pretty much anything.
What supporters of this might not realize (or do and actually support) is that this will make it even easier for state and local agencies to spy on and harass anyone who doesn't fit the mold of the perfect Americans citizen, including Muslims, anarchists, etc. The NYPD has already taken upon itself the task of spying on Muslims in New Jersey, saying that it's a necessary safeguard against future terrorism (as if all Muslims are terrorists); and the FBI seems perfectly able and willing to raid houses in search of anarchist literature because a few people wearing black broke some windows and slashed some tires. But what if the government could legally collect and store data about citizens, like what books they purchase from Amazon or what kind of deli they get their meat from? It would make their jobs that much easier, because they wouldn't even have to make the pretenses of investigating legitimate threats to public safety; they could just point to these items and activities as probable cause in and of themselves. And if that doesn't worry you, just imagine the extent of the witch-hunts during the 1950s if McCarthy and Hoover had the kind of surveillance capabilities we have now. Anyone thinking of buying Debt: The First 5,000 Years or halal meat better watch out.
What supporters of this might not realize (or do and actually support) is that this will make it even easier for state and local agencies to spy on and harass anyone who doesn't fit the mold of the perfect Americans citizen, including Muslims, anarchists, etc. The NYPD has already taken upon itself the task of spying on Muslims in New Jersey, saying that it's a necessary safeguard against future terrorism (as if all Muslims are terrorists); and the FBI seems perfectly able and willing to raid houses in search of anarchist literature because a few people wearing black broke some windows and slashed some tires. But what if the government could legally collect and store data about citizens, like what books they purchase from Amazon or what kind of deli they get their meat from? It would make their jobs that much easier, because they wouldn't even have to make the pretenses of investigating legitimate threats to public safety; they could just point to these items and activities as probable cause in and of themselves. And if that doesn't worry you, just imagine the extent of the witch-hunts during the 1950s if McCarthy and Hoover had the kind of surveillance capabilities we have now. Anyone thinking of buying Debt: The First 5,000 Years or halal meat better watch out.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
the revolt of angels
Just discovered this literary gem from China Miéville's list of 50 fantasy and science fiction works that socialists should read. I'm surprised I haven't read it already considering its main themes, which include anti-authoritarianism, Gnosticism, Satan as a free-thinking, humanitarian revolutionary, and an ending evoking the likes of Leo Tolstoy (esp. his letter, "To the Working People") and the Buddha (e.g., SN 3.15 and SN 3.23), who both advised against neglecting the evil lurking in our hearts and minds in the pursuit of challenging evil in the world since, in their view, external manifestations of evil can never truly be conquered if we don't also seek to eradicate the seeds of evil present within ourselves. A bit dated, but still a humorous and witty piece of satire.
To some extent, I think one can even compare the spirit of Ialdabaoth (characterized by jealous, violent, quarrelsome, and greedy tendencies) in The Revolt of Angels, along with Tolstoy's "causes of the wretchedness of [the working people's] position" and the Buddha's three qualities of the world that "arise for harm, stress, and discomfort," to the deeply ingrained psychological roots underlying the Marxian concept of false consciousness (i.e., the "ideology dominating the consciousness of exploited groups and classes which at the same time justifies and perpetuates their exploitation") in the form of fetishized greed (rational self-interest) and competition that also serve to help support the cycle of reactionary violence of people against revolutionary activity and thought, even if the ideas of France, Tolstoy, and the Buddha are ultimately more conservative and idealistic than revolutionary from a historical materialist perspective.
To some extent, I think one can even compare the spirit of Ialdabaoth (characterized by jealous, violent, quarrelsome, and greedy tendencies) in The Revolt of Angels, along with Tolstoy's "causes of the wretchedness of [the working people's] position" and the Buddha's three qualities of the world that "arise for harm, stress, and discomfort," to the deeply ingrained psychological roots underlying the Marxian concept of false consciousness (i.e., the "ideology dominating the consciousness of exploited groups and classes which at the same time justifies and perpetuates their exploitation") in the form of fetishized greed (rational self-interest) and competition that also serve to help support the cycle of reactionary violence of people against revolutionary activity and thought, even if the ideas of France, Tolstoy, and the Buddha are ultimately more conservative and idealistic than revolutionary from a historical materialist perspective.
Friday, August 3, 2012
sunday afternoon
"Sunday Afternoon"
On an unexpected adventure,
I look around at the cast of characters that surround me:
friends, acquaintances, college students, artists,
mothers, fathers, children,
a guy who looks like a sailor, and not in a good way...
I wonder about their lives,
about the choices they've made and whether they're happy with who they are;
where they are;
and who they happen to be there with.
A coffee in my hand,
comforting me and shaking me out of my waking slumber.
Tony's niece doesn't remember meeting me.
I contemplate how many times that's happened,
how many people have failed to recognize me,
even though I always seem to remember them.
Am I really that forgettable?
Perhaps.
But restlessness leads us on to another adventure,
and a walk along a river of memories.
The city is full of contradictions.
A new path along the river paralleled by abandoned factories;
emergency phones meters apart,
while the rest of the city has long forsaken 911,
because they know from experience that no one ever comes.
One coney island we suspect is run by racists,
the other has a dungeon for a bathroom,
yet all three of us find the latter infinitely more inviting.
Miley Cyrus stares down at me from the wall,
most likely judging me as I inhale my ketchup-covered coneys.
Yes, I put ketchup on my coney dogs.
And so does Tony,
both of us growing up in the heart of downtown.
I guess it's a thing,
not putting ketchup on coney dogs.
I'm sure all the trendy hipsters would disapprove.
And I chuckle inwardly at the ridiculousness of it all.
Did Miley Cyrus really eat here?
The taste of onions accompanies thoughts about friendship,
about what that word really means.
Who are these people I'm with?
Why did I pick them over what I was originally planning on doing?
I conclude it means the people I consider my family,
the people who I trust and would sacrifice anything for,
even my time,
which has become very precious to me as of late.
It explains why I consider so few people my friends:
I've only got so much to give.
And as quickly and unexpectedly as it began,
I find myself being rushed back home,
and to my evening shift at the cafe,
empty and waiting for the motely assortment of poets and musicians to arrive.
A new adventure,
and something else to take my mind off the melancholy this city provokes,
as I watch it struggle to rise from the ashes,
like some gritty, urban phoenix.
On an unexpected adventure,
I look around at the cast of characters that surround me:
friends, acquaintances, college students, artists,
mothers, fathers, children,
a guy who looks like a sailor, and not in a good way...
I wonder about their lives,
about the choices they've made and whether they're happy with who they are;
where they are;
and who they happen to be there with.
A coffee in my hand,
comforting me and shaking me out of my waking slumber.
Tony's niece doesn't remember meeting me.
I contemplate how many times that's happened,
how many people have failed to recognize me,
even though I always seem to remember them.
Am I really that forgettable?
Perhaps.
But restlessness leads us on to another adventure,
and a walk along a river of memories.
The city is full of contradictions.
A new path along the river paralleled by abandoned factories;
emergency phones meters apart,
while the rest of the city has long forsaken 911,
because they know from experience that no one ever comes.
One coney island we suspect is run by racists,
the other has a dungeon for a bathroom,
yet all three of us find the latter infinitely more inviting.
Miley Cyrus stares down at me from the wall,
most likely judging me as I inhale my ketchup-covered coneys.
Yes, I put ketchup on my coney dogs.
And so does Tony,
both of us growing up in the heart of downtown.
I guess it's a thing,
not putting ketchup on coney dogs.
I'm sure all the trendy hipsters would disapprove.
And I chuckle inwardly at the ridiculousness of it all.
Did Miley Cyrus really eat here?
The taste of onions accompanies thoughts about friendship,
about what that word really means.
Who are these people I'm with?
Why did I pick them over what I was originally planning on doing?
I conclude it means the people I consider my family,
the people who I trust and would sacrifice anything for,
even my time,
which has become very precious to me as of late.
It explains why I consider so few people my friends:
I've only got so much to give.
And as quickly and unexpectedly as it began,
I find myself being rushed back home,
and to my evening shift at the cafe,
empty and waiting for the motely assortment of poets and musicians to arrive.
A new adventure,
and something else to take my mind off the melancholy this city provokes,
as I watch it struggle to rise from the ashes,
like some gritty, urban phoenix.
occupy buddhism: or why the dalai lama is a marxist
An interesting article exploring the rather unlikely partnership of Buddhism and Marxism, and the need for Buddhism to consciously "enter the movement of the real and be engaged with the struggle to end suffering, and man's inhumanity to man" instead of continuing its transformation into "a fetish that ultimately enables the status quo to maintain its continuing control, dominance, and expansion":
Occupy Buddhism: Or Why the Dalai Lama is a Marxist
Smithers asks, "Does [Buddhism] have the legs of an emancipatory religion, a religion of liberation with the power to transform societies and cultures?" and seems to answer in the affirmative. And from my own experience, I'm inclined to agree. Buddhism definitely has that potential.
Before I became interested in Buddhism, for example, I didn't really have any political-economic views to speak of. In fact, I was more or less completely uninterested in politics whatsoever. After years of studying and practicing Buddhism, however, I began to take more of an active interest in the world. This was partially due to cultivating compassion and being more sensitive the suffering of others, as well as Buddhism's encouragement to analyze our actions and their effects in the world in an effort to make ourselves and the world a better place. And in this aspect, I've found the seemingly unrelated aims of Buddhism and Marxism to be quite complementary.
To me, the main difference between the approaches of Buddhism and Marxism is one of focus; whereas the Buddha's focus was primarily on how to liberate the individual from their mental suffering by mastering the process of 'I-making and my-making' involved with our conception of self, Marx's focus, the bodhisattva that he was, was primarily on how to liberate society from its suffering and alienation by changing the material conditions that support it.
But the article isn't about turning Buddhism into some kind of revolutionary political philosophy; it's about applying the ideals of Buddhism in all that we do, which for me (and others like the Dalai Lama) includes trying to help society overcome and advance beyond what Thorstein Veblen called 'the predatory phase' of human development. So for me, instead of canceling the full impact of reality and making me "indulgent, pleasure-seeking, distancing, and largely apathetic to worldwide suffering and misery," Buddhism has done the exact opposite, leading me to become more disciplined, involved, open, socially engaged, and sensitive to worldwide suffering and misery.
Occupy Buddhism: Or Why the Dalai Lama is a Marxist
Smithers asks, "Does [Buddhism] have the legs of an emancipatory religion, a religion of liberation with the power to transform societies and cultures?" and seems to answer in the affirmative. And from my own experience, I'm inclined to agree. Buddhism definitely has that potential.
Before I became interested in Buddhism, for example, I didn't really have any political-economic views to speak of. In fact, I was more or less completely uninterested in politics whatsoever. After years of studying and practicing Buddhism, however, I began to take more of an active interest in the world. This was partially due to cultivating compassion and being more sensitive the suffering of others, as well as Buddhism's encouragement to analyze our actions and their effects in the world in an effort to make ourselves and the world a better place. And in this aspect, I've found the seemingly unrelated aims of Buddhism and Marxism to be quite complementary.
To me, the main difference between the approaches of Buddhism and Marxism is one of focus; whereas the Buddha's focus was primarily on how to liberate the individual from their mental suffering by mastering the process of 'I-making and my-making' involved with our conception of self, Marx's focus, the bodhisattva that he was, was primarily on how to liberate society from its suffering and alienation by changing the material conditions that support it.
But the article isn't about turning Buddhism into some kind of revolutionary political philosophy; it's about applying the ideals of Buddhism in all that we do, which for me (and others like the Dalai Lama) includes trying to help society overcome and advance beyond what Thorstein Veblen called 'the predatory phase' of human development. So for me, instead of canceling the full impact of reality and making me "indulgent, pleasure-seeking, distancing, and largely apathetic to worldwide suffering and misery," Buddhism has done the exact opposite, leading me to become more disciplined, involved, open, socially engaged, and sensitive to worldwide suffering and misery.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
oakland, the last refuge of radical america
Just finished reading what amounts to Jonathan Mahler's reactionary critique of Occupy Oakland and radicalism (i.e., socio-political movements aimed at fundamentally changing the structure of society through revolutionary means) in general.
The first paragraph immediately sets the tone and assures the reader: this article isn't going to be kind towards Occupy Oakland. And Mahler doesn't disappoint, seemingly doing his best throughout the article to point out the socio-economic conditions that motivated much of the Occupy Oakland movement only insofar as it serves to help blame the 'radical' residents of Oakland for the existence of poverty, high crime rates, and a dysfunctional government, and then to repeatedly smear and condemn them for getting involved with a movement openly angry at the systematic inequalities of capitalism and willing to confront the system head on—painting them all as little more than a bunch of stoned, violently radical nihilists comparable to 'the Menace' of the Hell's Angels, as Hunter S. Thompson famously called them in the opening line of his first book, as if there's little difference between the two groups.
Moreover, Mahler's piece as a whole seems to assume the superiority of neoliberalism to any of the potential alternatives — all but praising its assured victory over the challenges of 'radical America' and the 'extreme' politics of activists like Boots Riley (despite neoliberalism's obvious failings), calling the attempts of those who dare to dream otherwise "an extreme exercise in the denial of the reality that is at their door" — and implying that any serious challenge to neoliberalism is doomed to failure, ending with "the Menace's last stand."
However, I think Mahler's unrelentingly hostile portrayal of Occupy Oakland and repeated comparisons to the Hell's Angels echoes the Lynch Report, which Thompson felt vastly exaggerated the menace of the Hell's Angels and misrepresented their lifestyle.
The first paragraph immediately sets the tone and assures the reader: this article isn't going to be kind towards Occupy Oakland. And Mahler doesn't disappoint, seemingly doing his best throughout the article to point out the socio-economic conditions that motivated much of the Occupy Oakland movement only insofar as it serves to help blame the 'radical' residents of Oakland for the existence of poverty, high crime rates, and a dysfunctional government, and then to repeatedly smear and condemn them for getting involved with a movement openly angry at the systematic inequalities of capitalism and willing to confront the system head on—painting them all as little more than a bunch of stoned, violently radical nihilists comparable to 'the Menace' of the Hell's Angels, as Hunter S. Thompson famously called them in the opening line of his first book, as if there's little difference between the two groups.
Moreover, Mahler's piece as a whole seems to assume the superiority of neoliberalism to any of the potential alternatives — all but praising its assured victory over the challenges of 'radical America' and the 'extreme' politics of activists like Boots Riley (despite neoliberalism's obvious failings), calling the attempts of those who dare to dream otherwise "an extreme exercise in the denial of the reality that is at their door" — and implying that any serious challenge to neoliberalism is doomed to failure, ending with "the Menace's last stand."
However, I think Mahler's unrelentingly hostile portrayal of Occupy Oakland and repeated comparisons to the Hell's Angels echoes the Lynch Report, which Thompson felt vastly exaggerated the menace of the Hell's Angels and misrepresented their lifestyle.
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