One thing that I completely agree with the Young Marx on is the need for society to move beyond its fetishism of the right to liberty in the form of private property (i.e., the right to enjoy and dispose of property without regard to others, esp. in terms of corporate 'persons') and towards a realization of its species-being.
Unlike those who assume 'human nature' is a fixed, static thing that's naturally greedy, competitive, etc., I take the position that much of what we label human nature is fluid and changeable yet strongly conditioned by the world around us, especially by the economic 'base' of society, i.e., the way society reproduces itself. Hence the forces and social relations that are embodied within any given mode of production help to shape and influence the ideas and interrelationships within that society (which, in a global context, includes those between nation-states as well as between individuals).
In A Contribution to the Critique of Political Economy, for example, Marx famously writes:
In the social production of their existence, men inevitably enter into definite relations, which are independent of their will, namely relations of production appropriate to a given stage in the development of their material forces of production. The totality of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure of society, the real foundation, on which arises a legal and political superstructure and to which correspond definite forms of social consciousness. The mode of production of material life conditions the general process of social, political and intellectual life. It is not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but their social existence that determines their consciousness.
Within capitalism, what Marx terms the 'coercive laws of competition' force individual capitals to compete with one another and exploit labour as much as they can in the pursuit of profit; and at the same time, these coercive laws of competition force individual workers to compete with fellow workers, locally as well as globally, for jobs that provide the wages they depend on to survive. And this, in turn, influences and reinforces relations (individual, national, etc.) that are built upon or grow out of this socio-economic foundation.
The problem is, civil society is a decidedly communal endeavour. And as Marx saw it, our species-being is an "ensemble of social relations," which are mutable, rather than an "abstraction inherent in each single individual." The logic of capitalism and the social relations arising out of it, however, structure a society in which we create the bare "semblance of a human existence" instead allowing our nature its full expression, leading to everything from alienated labour to the fostering of profitable industries that harm our very existence.
And I think no area demonstrates this more than the environment and the negative impact the contradictions inherent to capitalism have had on it, with its crises, coercive laws of competition, and accumulation for accumulation's sake that compel businesses and individual capitalists to put profits over all other concerns.
Top ten lists always seem kind of dumb to me. I mean, who really cares what I listened to in high school? But then I woke up from a dream about my mom this morning and couldn't go back to sleep, so I started mentally composing a list to take my mind off of the sadness.
Most of the music that had the biggest impact on me during my high school years came from three main sources: my brother Gary, music videos on MTV, and random things I found at the record store with cool cover art. So, in somewhat chronological order with commentary, my dumb top ten list:
1. Rust in Peace, Megadeth.
Not my first metal/thrash album, but definitely my favourite.
Most of the music I listened to in my early teens came from my older brother Gary, who introduced me to bands like Anthrax, Metallica, Megadeth, and Slayer right before I started high school. Before that, I was apathetic as far as most music went. I liked Michael Jackson's Thriller as a kid, but pretty much ignored music after that. Nothing on the radio really interested me. And then I heard things like Rust in Peace and all that changed. I thought, What the shit is this?! Where has this been all my life? The heavier and faster, the better.
After being introduced to heavy metal, I moved from Detroit to Warren, MI, and started high school as the weird new kid. I was into comics and mythology and growing my hair out long in the middle of Michigan suburbia. Not the best fit. When days were rough, and people were especially mean to me, I'd come home and listen to music. And the album that stands out the most when I think about my first year of high school is this one.
Thematically, it also fostered my growing interest in politics, conspiracy theories, and the occult. Fortunately, my politics and spiritual beliefs evolved in the opposite direction of frontman Dave Mustaine.
2. Arise, Sepultura.
My brother had just gotten a new radio and some money for his 16th birthday. We went to my uncle's cottage in Lexington Heights, near Lake Huron, for a few weeks. We saw this tape in the case of a small local store, and Gary bought it solely because of the insane cover art. Not knowing what to expect, we were totally blown away. It was the heaviest thing I'd ever heard. We listened to it non-stop that summer. This, along with albums like Rust in Peace and Slayer's Seasons in the Abyss, formed the soundtrack for my first couple of years in high school.
3. Nevermind, Nirvana.
Nevermind came out just before I started high school. I was already wearing band shirts, torn jeans, Chucks, and flannels. People used to call me a scrub. Then this came out and I was 'grunge.' It was heavy and angsty and made for people like me.
Kurt Cobain was also the first idol of mine to die tragically. I remember hearing the news in school during the morning broadcast of Channel 1. It hit me pretty hard. But even though it was shocking and sad, his suicide also showed me that other people struggle with life too, which somehow made me feel less alone.
4. Psalm 69, Ministry.
My first real industrial album, soon followed by NIN's Downward Spiral and KMFDM's Xtort. More seeds for my future political awareness, and another musical outlet for all my pent up teenage angst. This album sparked my love of industrial music, which would later lead to a lot of great friendships.
5. In the Shadows, Mercyful Fate.
My first exposure to King Diamond was the video for "Egypt." I'd never heard nor seen anything quite like it. I was immediately drawn towards the overt mythological and occult overtones; but I was completely captivated by King Diamond himself. His voice. His makeup. His lyrics. The moment I saw that video, I knew I'd found my musical soulmate.
I was already familiar with the philosophy of Anton LeVey by then (I mean, what rebellious preteen could resist picking up The Satanic Bible at their local bookstore?), and King Diamond personified it to a T. His music and countercultural philosophy further stoked my rebelliousness against the conservative, Judeo-Christian culture that dominated Michigan suburbia, inspiring me to foster my individuality rather than supress it in order to conform with what was expected of me.
While I'd later more away from LeVey's philosophy, finding a better spiritual fit first in the likes of Aleister Crowley and later in Buddhism, it without a doubt helped me survive high school without losing myself or my mind.
6. Abigail, King Diamond.
My first King Diamond album. Also my first concept album.
I can't even begin to explain the impact this album had on me. It's more of a feeling and attitude than anything rational, but it definitely changed my life for the reasons mentioned above re: In the Shadows and much, much more. A horror story set to music, I'd often listen to it, along with Them and The Eye, at night. It was like the King himself was singing me nightmarish bedtime stories as I drifted off to sleep, transporting me into worlds where I could escape from the pressures of being an awkward teen who never quite fit in.
I was known throughout my high school years for my obsession with King Diamond.
7. Covenant, Morbid Angel.
One of the best death metal albums ever made, in my opinion. Also, my first concert. The first time I heard "Rapture" on Headbanger's Ball, I was young, rebellious, and fancied myself quite the little Satanist. It was the heaviest, most Satanic thing I'd ever heard, and I couldn't get enough of it. I listened to that tape religiously. When I heard they were playing at the Falcon Club in Hamtramck, MI, I knew I had to go.
It was the summer of 1994. I was all of 15 and crashing on my friend Mike's couch at the time after running away from home to get away from my increasingly out-of-control stepdad. I remember that we had to go to some record store or another to buy the tickets. My friend Larry was there too. We convinced somebody to give us a ride down there that night (maybe Jerry, or someone's mom?). I remember waiting outside and hearing them rehearse "Sworn to the Black." It gave me chills. I was so fucking excited I was practically twerking with anticipation.
The place was small and more like a basement than a venue. 7,000 Dying Rats and Crowbar opened. Then Morbid Angel came on and fucking destroyed my face with the heaviest riffs and most devilish lyrics my relatively innocent, young ears had until that time heard (this was before the interwebs, mind you). It was one hell of a show. I headbanged so hard I'm pretty sure I gave myself whiplash.
After the show, we tried to find a ride back, but ended up having to catch a taxi instead. Unfortunately, we could only afford to make it halfway back to Mike's place, walking the last five or six miles in the dead of night.
8. Transylvanian Hunger, Darkthrone.
My first black metal album. Bought it because of the cover artwork. It looked so badass I just had to hear it. I didn't like it at first, though, to be honest. Initially, I only listened to the first three tracks. The rest was just low-quality noise to me. But I kept coming back to it for some reason; and the more I listened to it, the more I began to appreciate the album as a whole, as well as the genre itself.
For me, music is first and foremost about the aesthetics, how it sounds, how it makes me feel, etc. I didn't understand a lot of the lyrics, and was completely unaware of the racism associated with the band at the time (statements Fenriz would later disavow and call disgusting); but the sound itself was so raw, dark, and honest that, aesthetically, it mirrored much of the anger and alienation I felt at the time. Listening to it was like letting the dark half of my soul run free through the coldest, darkest forests of my imagination.
9. Symphony Masses, Therion.
If memory serves me right, this was recommended to me at or around the same time I bought Transylvanian Hunger by someone working at Harmony House, who I sort of knew through mutual friends. I loved it. And through the evolution of the band's music, this album would eventually introduce me to symphonic metal and bands like Cradle of Filth and Dimmu Borgir.
10. Antichrist Superstar, Marilyn Manson.
By the time this came out, I was one of the three resident Satanists in school, had waist-length hair, wore mostly black, and filed my nails to a sharp point.
Being new and kind of weird, asshole, suburban kids liked to pick on me; and the more they did, the more I transformed myself into someone they didn't want to fuck with. I wanted to become Satan himself. This album came out during the culmination of that transformation. It gave an especially coherent, tortured voice to all the anger and frustration I felt towards the world; and it further motivated me to transcend the stifling limitations imposed by societal social norms by trangressing them more than I already was.
More than anything, though, it helped me break free from the psychological constraints of heteronormality. I didn't know much about the goth scene, but this album introduced me to that world, a world I immediately felt at home in, especially after finding a haven for misfits like myself in the form of Gotham Cafe, which would lead me to a whole new chapter of my life.
So many things on my mind seeing the hundreds of thousands of people taking to the streets today in solidarity with the Women's March on Washington.
Our country is a political dumpster fire. We've actually elected a reality show star for president. His cabinet is full of anti-gay, anti-poor, anti-women racists and corporatists. His first speech as president was written by racist-in-chief, Steve Bannon, and took a decidedly nationalistic and patriarchal tone (and even plagiarized Bane to boot). They don't even try to hide their contempt for non-WASPs, especially women, utilizing political slogans from the golden age of American nationalism and repression, and wasting no time in ridding the White House website of references to the LGBT rights, climate change, and civil rights. It's like I've died and woken up in the prequel to A Handmaid's Tale.
The protests are amazing. But protesting alone isn't going to fix the problem. Yes, it gives people hope, and it forces the ruling class to pay attention to the real anger, frustration, and suffering of all those who are discriminated against and marginalized. It shows their numbers and their solidarity, their willingness to shut everything down, to not be further victimized or ignored. But it also unintentionally harms a lot of working-class people, those who can't afford to take days off work to be out in the streets otherwise they'd be out on the streets.
Shutting down bridges and public transit gets the ruling class' attention, but it also prevents working-class parents from getting home to their children after a long workday. It sends a powerful message to the minority in power, but it can also alienate huge pockets of working people. The fight must also include educating people about the importance of resistance and the ways real people are being harmed, as well as long-term strategies for staying relevant and not burning out, utilizing political activism and community organizing as much as direct action.
And while intersectionality is super important to any movement geared towards equality, women have definitely been at the forefront of the fight to put out this particular dumpster fire. They're out there marching and organizing and making their voices heard, which is amazing. Women have been the motivating force of this resistance from day one, and they are inspiring solidarity amongst all walks of life with their fire and determination.
I'm not sure what's going to come out of the seeds of today, but I'm cautiously optimistic about the future. Not because of my faith in our political system, but my faith in ordinary, everyday people. And I'm proud to follow the lead of all the amazing women who are leading the way into a better tomorrow.
I'm currently reading Gareth Stedman Jones' book, Karl Marx: Greatness and Illusion, and one section has me wondering why more Christians, and Catholics in particular, aren't communists in the proper sense of the word and vice versa. That's not to say I think one must (or even necessarily should) be the other; only that I find them to be immensely compatible on a fundamental level.
For example, in contrast to Feuerbach's criticism of Christianity as a philosophical roadblock to the emergence of a modern, communal society characterized by spiritual and political freedom -- the 'unity of I and Thou' -- the universality of 'the church as one body' (via 1 Cor 12:12-13) most certainly contains within it the communal essence of the human species as Feuerbach envisions it.
Our tendency towards abstraction aside, rather than simply seeing the state of religion as "the particular union of each individual with an external being," as Stedman Jones summarizes Feuerbach's critique of Christianity (p. 127), this theological concept explicitly conceives of each individual as an integral part of the same communal, unifying body within the universality that is personified by Christ. Moreover, Christ himself makes concern for the needs of others the entry fee into the kingdom of heaven (Mt 25:31-46).
So, rather than usurping the primordial species-unity of 'I and Thou,' as Feuerbach suggests, Christ actually embodies that unity. All are one in Christ, and Christ is one with all (Gal 3:28). Next to loving God, loving our neighbour as ourselves is the greatest commandment (Mt 22:34-40). And the relational nature of God in the form of the trinity itself reflects the interdependent nature of humanity, the aspect of individuals as communal species-beings.
While this revolutionary facet of Christianity has been suppressed by ruling elites, both spiritual and political, throughout most of its history, its existence is clearly evinced by the early apostles themselves: "There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need" (Acts 4:34-35).
In addition, for Marx and Feuerbach, God is a mystification of our species-essence, an abstraction, an inversion of subject and object; and therefore our religious inclinations are in reality just a fetishization of this alienated aspect of our species-being that we've objectified and turned into something alien from ourselves. But the revolutionary story of Jesus effectively undoes this inversion of subject and object.
Jesus is God manifest in human form; and in this sense, represents a demystification of our species-essence and a reunification of our spiritual and political consciousness. Jesus not only bridges the gap between the transcendent and the concrete, but the rift between humanity and itself created by our tendency to, in the words of Feuerbach, "posit the essence of nature outside nature, the essence of humanity outside humanity, the essence of thought outside the act of thinking."
I think that both Feuerbach and Marx were correct in their criticism of idealist philosophies that begin with "the 'I' or 'self' in isolation," as well as of the role that Christianity played in the rise of individualism and egotistical withdrawal from communal life within modern society. But I think they make a mistake by neglecting the revolutionary spirit imbedded within the New Testament.
Some tentative (and likely unpopular) thoughts on the election.
1. I honestly never thought Trump would win. But he did. In some ways, he's the festering boil of centuries of white supremacy, racism, sexism, colonialism, and patriarchy coming to head. But in a strange, reactionary kind of way, he's also the embodiment of a populist distrust of the government. This is the reality we have to live with, and what we do in response will make all the difference, which will have to include defending those who'll almost certainly be targeted by discriminatory policies and possibly even violence (e.g., women, immigrants, people of colour, the LGBTQ community, etc.).
2. I feel deeply sad for everyone who voted and campaigned hard for Clinton. This was a tough and shocking loss for nearly half the electorate, for gender equality, and for our political future. And among the biggest seeds planted for that loss are the DNC picking an establishment candidate over a populist, moderately revolutionary outsider; the failure of the Clinton campaign to campaign harder in key battleground states like Michigan and Wisconsin; the media for essentially creating this reality TV star turned politician and fostering his image as an off-the-cuff Washington outsider ready to shake things up; and our out-dated, winner-take-all political system (including the electoral college) which ultimately elected him.
3. I know emotions are high right now, and the fear and anger many people feel are real and justified, and I'm sorry for my part in this. I know a large number of my friends will be angry with me for not blindly supporting the Democratic Party because it, and many Democrats in office, cross too many moral red lines for me to support, economically, environmentally, militarily, etc. That said, no matter what the election, people aren't assholes merely for not helping someone else's candidate or party to win if they genuinely don't support them. People have a right to vote for whom they actually agree with and support. And if you hate Trump and his conservative stance on the issues, hold his large number of supporters to task for their support while maybe starting a dialogue with them to let them know how this is going to negatively affect all of us. Plenty are surely intolerant and difficult to reason with. But not every Trump supporter is a racist, sexist, xenophobic bigot. Many of them are simply people who feel alienated by the system and have sided with an anti-establishment reactionary because of that. Instead of further alienating them, we should try to engage them as well as strengthen solidarity amongst the opposition, creating a more united front. We're stronger together than we are divided into warring factions.
4. Unfortunately, this is going to cause a huge backlash against third parties and independents, partially because I think it's easier to blame them for the loss of relatively unpopular candidates or the weaknesses of a flawed system that takes incredible amounts of both time and effort to change. They're an easy target, but they're a scapegoat. If you support democracy, or at least the idea of third party alternatives in a two party, republican system, don't attack them for your party's/candidates loss. It's not their job to get your party/candidate elected. I get it. Trump won and liberals are pissed. But they can't have it both ways. Either they're for democracy and people having a voice, or they want to do away with third parties. Right now, third parties are the only alternative we have to the capitalist two party duopoly that currently steers our political system. But they're struggling every election to break the 5% barrier, which is important in terms of gaining easier ballot access, qualifying for federal funding, and having access to things like presidential debates, all of which is insanely difficult to do when both parties, but especially Democrats, always say that this year is too important for a 'protest vote' and that 'third parties and their voters spoiled the election' whenever they lose any race, meaning that it's never going to be the right time in their minds to vote for anyone outside said established party. They pay lip service to the idea, of course, but only want people to do it when it doesn't matter (i.e., when their candidate is assured the win), defeating the very purpose of having an alternative party in the first place. I'm not sure they understand that.
5. The small hope I have is that this loss will encourage more active resistance to the status quo, and push those within the Democratic Party to move the party back towards the left. For many Democrats and progressives alike, there's almost nothing any Democrat can do to lose their support; and for all the people who say they side more progressive and even revolutionary candidates, they'll never vote for a third party candidate unless they are better on the issues and more electable (which is almost impossible under our current electoral system), albeit without their prior support—and they call this 'pragmatic voting.' While pragmatic from one point of view, this is precisely how the Democrats can so easily be pulled right by the Republicans (because they know they have the majority of the progressive vote no matter what), and it makes other alternatives difficult to organize because progressives won't support them until they get electable, which they can't do without the help of progressives in the first place. We have to work harder to make it easier to have alternatives without disenfranchising huge cross sections of the electorate (e.g., pushing for the implementation of a more proportionally representative system rather than our current winner-take-all system). And part of that is building these alternative parties up, because they're never going to be able to legitimately compete in our electoral system unless we do.
6. The best response I've seen so far is, "Don't mourn, organize," a paraphrase of something IWW labour activist Joe Hill wrote to Big Bill Hayword prior to his execution. Sometimes we go backwards, but we can't stop trying to move forwards. I know it's easier said than done, and political activism can really burn you out when you're working full time, a student, etc.; but simply engaging in electoral politics (i.e., voting) isn't enough to change the system on its own.
7. If my politics make you angry at me, I'm sorry. I started off thinking that I was a Democrat but quickly realized that I was a lot more left-leaning. I looked at the political big picture from a historical POV and decided that I wanted to work towards more radical change than the Democratic Party offered, or really even allows among its rank and file. As such, I know that my general lack of support for the Democratic Party and capitalism in general rubs many people the wrong way. But I'm passionate about politics and those are my convictions. I'm dedicated to them until such time as they change. If you can accept that, awesome. I'm still with you on a lot of issues and will continue to add my support to those issues and people within the Democratic Party I truly think add a progress voice and policies to the mix. And if you can't, I understand.
Personally, I think that Clinton has it totally backwards. It's not some vague, naive Millennial mindset that's affecting their politics; it's the economic realities of their actual lives that are affecting their politics.
Clinton jokes about politically-naive Millennials living in their parent's basement and working as baristas, lamenting their less-than-upwardly mobile job prospects. But it's not because they're lazy or naively idealistic; it's because those kinds of jobs are all that many can get, and Millennials are struggling to make ends meet and pay off their student loan debts while trying to find places to live in rental markets that are getting increasingly out of control, many just a single paycheck shy of becoming one of the growing numbers of the working homeless. I spent three years working in the food court of Portland State University, and can attest to that fact myself.
Clinton also jokes about not getting the idea of Bernie Sanders' 'political revolution,' and I think that's partially due to the fact that she's part of the ruling class. For one, the idea of a political revolution challenges the very status quo that she's a part of. In addition, her economic reality is very different from that of most Millennials. She possesses a level of wealth and social power that many don't. She isn't burdened with tens of thousands of dollars of student loan debt. She isn't struggling to find a decent paying job in an over-saturated job market or a place to live in an over-inflated rental market. And when it comes to the young black Millennials she mentions, I don't think she gets their POV because she's speaking from a place of relative privilege. Yes, she's a woman. But she's also educated, white, and from a successful, suburban, middle-class family who's likely unfamiliar with the racial discrimination and inequalities faced by people of colour.
And finally, she doesn't get it because of her politics, which has always been decidedly conservative. It's well known she was a young Republican who volunteered for Goldwater back in 1964; and she admits as much by saying that she occupies the centre-left to the centre-right and criticizes the idea of achieving things like universal single-payer healthcare, universal higher-education, etc. like they have in Scandinavia. It's all about the idealization of hard work, not the socialization of opportunity.
Certainly she's progressive when it comes to many social issues, like women's reproductive rights and more recently same-sex marriage, but the rest is moderately conservative neoliberalism through and through. Hawkish record and rhetoric when it comes to foreign policy; opposition to things like universal single-payer healthcare and universal higher-education; past support for welfare reform that's hurt the most vulnerable; rhetoric about the mythical job growth in the 90s that was, unfortunately, built upon a shaky foundation that would eventually give way and cause the 2008 crisis from which we've yet to fully recover from, etc.
That Millennials are struggling with debt, limited job opportunities after college, and a spreading rental crisis while looking beyond neoliberlism for a solution isn't the result of some naive idealism, but of concrete, material, economic realities. The fact is, Millennials aren't as naive and entitled as older generations make them out to be. They're highly educated and hardworking and the beneficiaries of amazing technological innovations which give them access to the world and the world of ideas that we couldn't have dreamed of 10-20 years ago. And part of that is being able to see beyond the rules and limitations of capitalism and neoliberal ideology.
The greatest obstacle to real political revolution isn't Millennials lack of experience or political savvy, but the unbridled individualism that keeps working people of all generations from seeing the unity of their interests over that of capital and the state.
Rivka. She was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. I don't say that because I'm shallow, but because it's true. She was beautiful on the inside as well; but even before I got to know her, I was in love, I think. And the more I did get to know her, the kind of person she was, the more that love grew, until my heart was swollen to the point of bursting with thoughts of her. Unfortunately, when I met her, I was in a long-term relationship. Things weren't bad between Anya and I per se, but they weren't especially good, either. We were comfortable, complacent, used to each other's company. But there was something missing, or maybe it'd be more accurate to say that we simply weren't as close romantically as we once were. Whereas my love for Anya after ten plus years was deep and still, like a tranquil lake, my love for Rivka was passionate and intense, like a whirlpool of emotions—the kind of love that borders on ecstasy and madness. The thought of hurting Anya and abandoning her was hard to bear. Even so, my heart continued to yearn for Rivka. She was shy and quiet, yet there was something inside of her that at the same time frightened and captivated me, a kind of fiery hunger that threatened to consume everything in its path if set free. I saw a glimpse of it once, and I wanted it to consume me, body and soul. But I was also afraid and shied away at the last moment, afraid of losing myself as much as doing something she might later regret. I tried to be 'chivalrous.' And in my folly, I was too timid and waited too long to win her heart. In the end, I fear it was my own cowardice that kept me from such a wonderful fate, and now I fear that that regret will haunt me for quite possibly the rest of my life.
