Low 3/4: Animal Farm, Calling

I have an irrational wish to shoot all those who defend this cattle-market economy in all its degrading splendour - namely, the Neo-liberal asinine pricks that are my parents and their generation.

It was their generation that saw 2001 in the cinemas, yet this generation was condemned to a year and resulting decade that never achieved anything near its cinematic namesake. I can't say I didn't enjoy watching the live deaths of 10,000 Americans on TV (as was the figure on the day), but now I think it was awful - not that, the bit where American Imperialism rose again.

Any extra-terrestrial returning tourists would barely notice a change - in all aspects, it's still July 1969. A concert promised to change the world, Americans soldiers are dying somewhere, we're going to go to the Moon (again in 2018, why the fucking wait? It only took 9 years with 60s technology), and we're on the verge of another fuel crisis.

Yet, like intelligent mules, we're forced to work until we die (literally, if you live in Central Scotland, where life expectancy is falling under 60 what with all the cancers - Gotta Catch 'Em All!). Any neo-liberal shits that are reading that will say I'm erroneously comparing freedom of work to slavery and quote the Manics from their pop-friendly 1998 album - "Libraries gave us power, Then work came and made us free". We may not be owned by employers, but you certainly can't live without employment. At the top of the debt ladder, sits an extremely rich individual who played the markets and does not need any more money. Why do I need to work to buy commodity shite? *Gasp* Our entire civilisation could collapse with talk like that!

..I saw a little boy, perhaps ten years old, driving a huge cart-horse along a narrow path, whipping it whenever it tried to turn. It struck me that if only such animals became aware of their strength we should have no power over them, and that men exploit animals in much the same way as the rich exploit the proletariat.

Seems that in these post-industrial times, at least some of us are not content to act like robots to acquiesce our commodity-lust. How will I greet the East-Asian who works for nothing, allows to capitalism to thrive like a fungus somewhere new, and thinks the road to freedom is paved with a myriad of self-assembling plywood panels?

Based on barely-legible depressed rants written in the middle of the night on 19/01/06 and a separate draft post from 21/01/06

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