Responding to Fareed Zakaria's Pop-agandist Tweet-Bait, ‘The Capitalist Manifesto’:

Responding to Fareed Zakaria's Silly, Pop-agandist Tweet-Bait, The Capitalist Manifesto:

The Rich don't want want capitalism. Capitalism would mean their collapse. The rich want fascism, they will call thier system capitalism if it's politically expedient, they will call it socialism if the occasion calls for it, heck they will even call it communism if the circumstances warrant it. It is none of these things but fascism. They are paradigm pirates.

Also note his picture was taken at a CFR event. There has never existed a circle of more murderers and thieves in the world than the council on foreign relations. Before I became politically aware I had the oppurtunity to meet many of the vile creatures that work there. It would chill your blood if you knew how those people really thought.

Reply Posted 02:23 AM on 06/14/2009
Reply Posted 03:44 AM on 06/14/2009

Pretty much everyone who works national security/ foreign relations works there as a fellow, including candidates on both sides of the aisle (I know at least Clinton and Gates were fellows, I don't know about Obama though I'd imagine as President he must've been and if not he is now). This is an indict at the political system as a whole.

Reply Posted 02:40 AM on 06/14/2009

Correct the CFR is the man behind the curtain. It worries me that have become so visible of late. They used to take some care to hide themselves from the public. Now you can catch them having press releases on c-span.

Reply Posted 02:52 AM on 06/14/2009

The Power of Information has flushed out all the creeps into the open as their cover as been removed!

Reply Posted 03:20 AM on 06/14/2009

Usually cockroaches scatter in light, however this particular species seems to have adapted. They even had an article on thier site about why nations need to give up thier soveriegnity to fight global warming and global terrorism. Talk about showing your cards.

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For comparison (and consequent shits & giggles) here is a link to the ‘real’ capitalist ‘manifesto’:

"Human Action"


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Deceptively Brilliant Observation du Jour


‘German people aren't very good at being indifferent towards any given thing.’
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German people aren't very good at being indifferent towards any given thing. One particular topic they just can't seem to keep their minds off is America. Actually, the last recorded incident of a German person asking the question:

"Hey, what's up with the USA?"

...and the respondent simply answering:

"Eh? Dunno, why are you asking?"

is dating back over 230 years ago. Since that point in time, German people are required to have a strong opinion about the US of A, and that opinion must be negative.

Oh what fond memories I have of boozy nights at John Harvard's in the Square, picking relentlessly at the taut (o'logical) strands of a wire-rimmed trinity of German PhD candidates, deeply & helplessly revolted by all things Pop Americana. I was just one fiery little undergrad, but over the course of four hours -- and thrice as many pale ales -- each of them had abandoned the conviction that Disneyland and McDonald's were poisons being forcefully mainlined into the falsely-conscious proletariat; and forced to admit (graciously, I'd add) that even the uncontestably stupid Britney Spears was, in the final analysis, less an intoxicating Siren® manufactured for global cultural domination, than just a backwoods gal whose distinctly American voice & hip gyrations of sexual freedom could possibly, yes, maybe, actually present a liberating message for much of the world's female population -- you know, those really, truly oppressed ones that remain without a public voice, sexed-up or otherwise. I don't know if their weary change of heart lasted at all (judging by the desperately procured rounds of lager that ensued, I'm inclined to doubt), but I learned two valuable and lasting lessons that autumn evening: German social critics of the US are generally much less intellectually considerate / emotionally detached than the world has for whatever reason depicted them to be. And there's only so many hackneyed regurgitations of neo-Marxist critique they are willing to rinse & repeat, before rolling over completely to expose their jiggly underbellies. And all kidding aside, I find that quality of gracious abdication -- however cute and pathetic -- stunningly righteous and damned respectable.

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Of Sheeple, Hummers, Muzak, and Ideal Worship

Ralph Waldo EmersonImage via Wikipedia
What follows is several passages from an incredibly poignant and honest commencement address by David Foster Wallace (RIP), which can be found in its entirety here. I'm reminded of one of my favorite quotes here, by another writer who signed his name in triplicate -- one Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“People do not seem to realize that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character."
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David Foster Wallace:
Transcription of the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address - May 21, 2005

... Here is just one example of the total wrongness of something I tend to be automatically sure of: everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe; the realest, most vivid and important person in existence. We rarely think about this sort of natural, basic self-centeredness because it's so socially repulsive. But it's pretty much the same for all of us. It is our default setting, hard-wired into our boards at birth. Think about it: there is no experience you have had that you are not the absolute center of. The world as you experience it is there in front of YOU or behind YOU, to the left or right of YOU, on YOUR TV or YOUR monitor. And so on. Other people's thoughts and feelings have to be communicated to you somehow, but your own are so immediate, urgent, real.

Please don't worry that I'm getting ready to lecture you about compassion or other-directedness or all the so-called virtues. This is not a matter of virtue. It's a matter of my choosing to do the work of somehow altering or getting free of my natural, hard-wired default setting which is to be deeply and literally self-centered and to see and interpret everything through this lens of self. People who can adjust their natural default setting this way are often described as being "well-adjusted", which I suggest to you is not an accidental term.

Given the triumphant academic setting here, an obvious question is how much of this work of adjusting our default setting involves actual knowledge or intellect. This question gets very tricky. Probably the most dangerous thing about an academic education -- least in my own case -- is that it enables my tendency to over-intellectualize stuff, to get lost in abstract argument inside my head, instead of simply paying attention to what is going on right in front of me, paying attention to what is going on inside me.

As I'm sure you guys know by now, it is extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive, instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head (may be happening right now). Twenty years after my own graduation, I have come gradually to understand that the liberal arts cliché about teaching you how to think is actually shorthand for a much deeper, more serious idea: learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience. Because if you cannot exercise this kind of choice in adult life, you will be totally hosed. Think of the old cliché about quote the mind being an excellent servant but a terrible master.

This, like many clichés, so lame and unexciting on the surface, actually expresses a great and terrible truth. It is not the least bit coincidental that adults who commit suicide with firearms almost always shoot themselves in: the head. They shoot the terrible master. And the truth is that most of these suicides are actually dead long before they pull the trigger.

And I submit that this is what the real, no bullshit value of your liberal arts education is supposed to be about: how to keep from going through your comfortable, prosperous, respectable adult life dead, unconscious, a slave to your head and to your natural default setting of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out. That may sound like hyperbole, or abstract nonsense. Let's get concrete. The plain fact is that you graduating seniors do not yet have any clue what "day in day out" really means. There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine, and petty frustration. The parents and older folks here will know all too well what I'm talking about.

By way of example, let's say it's an average adult day, and you get up in the morning, go to your challenging, white-collar, college-graduate job, and you work hard for eight or ten hours, and at the end of the day you're tired and somewhat stressed and all you want is to go home and have a good supper and maybe unwind for an hour, and then hit the sack early because, of course, you have to get up the next day and do it all again. But then you remember there's no food at home. You haven't had time to shop this week because of your challenging job, and so now after work you have to get in your car and drive to the supermarket. It's the end of the work day and the traffic is apt to be: very bad. So getting to the store takes way longer than it should, and when you finally get there, the supermarket is very crowded, because of course it's the time of day when all the other people with jobs also try to squeeze in some grocery shopping. And the store is hideously lit and infused with soul-killing muzak or corporate pop and it's pretty much the last place you want to be but you can't just get in and quickly out; you have to wander all over the huge, over-lit store's confusing aisles to find the stuff you want and you have to maneuver your junky cart through all these other tired, hurried people with carts (et cetera, et cetera, cutting stuff out because this is a long ceremony) and eventually you get all your supper supplies, except now it turns out there aren't enough check-out lanes open even though it's the end-of-the-day rush. So the checkout line is incredibly long, which is stupid and infuriating. But you can't take your frustration out on the frantic lady working the register, who is overworked at a job whose daily tedium and meaninglessness surpasses the imagination of any of us here at a prestigious college.

But anyway, you finally get to the checkout line's front, and you pay for your food, and you get told to "Have a nice day" in a voice that is the absolute voice of death. Then you have to take your creepy, flimsy, plastic bags of groceries in your cart with the one crazy wheel that pulls maddeningly to the left, all the way out through the crowded, bumpy, littery parking lot, and then you have to drive all the way home through slow, heavy, SUV-intensive, rush-hour traffic, et cetera et cetera.

Everyone here has done this, of course. But it hasn't yet been part of you graduates' actual life routine, day after week after month after year.

But it will be. And many more dreary, annoying, seemingly meaningless routines besides. But that is not the point. The point is that petty, frustrating crap like this is exactly where the work of choosing is gonna come in. Because the traffic jams and crowded aisles and long checkout lines give me time to think, and if I don't make a conscious decision about how to think and what to pay attention to, I'm gonna be pissed and miserable every time I have to shop. Because my natural default setting is the certainty that situations like this are really all about me. About MY hungriness and MY fatigue and MY desire to just get home, and it's going to seem for all the world like everybody else is just in my way. And who are all these people in my way? And look at how repulsive most of them are, and how stupid and cow-like and dead-eyed and nonhuman they seem in the checkout line, or at how annoying and rude it is that people are talking loudly on cell phones in the middle of the line. And look at how deeply and personally unfair this is.

Or, of course, if I'm in a more socially conscious liberal arts form of my default setting, I can spend time in the end-of-the-day traffic being disgusted about all the huge, stupid, lane-blocking SUV's and Hummers and V-12 pickup trucks, burning their wasteful, selfish, forty-gallon tanks of gas, and I can dwell on the fact that the patriotic or religious bumper-stickers always seem to be on the biggest, most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest [responding here to loud applause] (this is an example of how NOT to think, though) most disgustingly selfish vehicles, driven by the ugliest, most inconsiderate and aggressive drivers. And I can think about how our children's children will despise us for wasting all the future's fuel, and probably screwing up the climate, and how spoiled and stupid and selfish and disgusting we all are, and how modern consumer society just sucks, and so forth and so on.

You get the idea.

If I choose to think this way in a store and on the freeway, fine. Lots of us do. Except thinking this way tends to be so easy and automatic that it doesn't have to be a choice. It is my natural default setting. It's the automatic way that I experience the boring, frustrating, crowded parts of adult life when I'm operating on the automatic, unconscious belief that I am the center of the world, and that my immediate needs and feelings are what should determine the world's priorities.

The thing is that, of course, there are totally different ways to think about these kinds of situations. In this traffic, all these vehicles stopped and idling in my way, it's not impossible that some of these people in SUV's have been in horrible auto accidents in the past, and now find driving so terrifying that their therapist has all but ordered them to get a huge, heavy SUV so they can feel safe enough to drive. Or that the Hummer that just cut me off is maybe being driven by a father whose little child is hurt or sick in the seat next to him, and he's trying to get this kid to the hospital, and he's in a bigger, more legitimate hurry than I am: it is actually I who am in HIS way.

Or I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket's checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do.

Again, please don't think that I'm giving you moral advice, or that I'm saying you are supposed to think this way, or that anyone expects you to just automatically do it. Because it's hard. It takes will and effort, and if you are like me, some days you won't be able to do it, or you just flat out won't want to.

But most days, if you're aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her kid in the checkout line. Maybe she's not usually like this. Maybe she's been up three straight nights holding the hand of a husband who is dying of bone cancer. Or maybe this very lady is the low-wage clerk at the motor vehicle department, who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a horrific, infuriating, red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness. Of course, none of this is likely, but it's also not impossible. It just depends what you what to consider. If you're automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won't consider possibilities that aren't annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options. It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.

Not that that mystical stuff is necessarily true. The only thing that's capital-T True is that you get to decide how you're gonna try to see it.

This, I submit, is the freedom of a real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted: You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn't. You get to decide what to worship.

Because here's something else that's weird but true: in the day-to day trenches of adult life, there is actually no such thing as atheism. There is no such thing as not worshipping. Everybody worships. The only choice we get is what to worship. And the compelling reason for maybe choosing some sort of god or spiritual-type thing to worship -- be it JC or Allah, bet it YHWH or the Wiccan Mother Goddess, or the Four Noble Truths, or some inviolable set of ethical principles -- is that pretty much anything else you worship will eat you alive. If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It's the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you. On one level, we all know this stuff already. It's been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, epigrams, parables; the skeleton of every great story. The whole trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness.
Worship power, you will end up feeling weak and afraid, and you will need ever more power over others to numb you to your own fear. Worship your intellect, being seen as smart, you will end up feeling stupid, a fraud, always on the verge of being found out. But the insidious thing about these forms of worship is not that they're evil or sinful, it's that they're unconscious. They are default settings.

They're the kind of worship you just gradually slip into, day after day, getting more and more selective about what you see and how you measure value without ever being fully aware that that's what you're doing.

And the so-called real world will not discourage you from operating on your default settings, because the so-called real world of men and money and power hums merrily along in a pool of fear and anger and frustration and craving and worship of self. Our own present culture has harnessed these forces in ways that have yielded extraordinary wealth and comfort and personal freedom. The freedom all to be lords of our tiny skull-sized kingdoms, alone at the center of all creation. This kind of freedom has much to recommend it. But of course there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talk about much in the great outside world of wanting and achieving... The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.

That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

I know that this stuff probably doesn't sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don't just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr. Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.

The capital-T Truth is about life before death.

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Hal Hartley - Independent Auteur Writes a Book, Channels Walter Benjamin


size[250 x 330].
Back when I lived in Cambridge, MA, I had the pleasure of screening The Girl from Monday at the historic Brattle Theater. A special Q&A session with director Hal Hartley followed, and I remember being amazed by his clarity and artistic focus. I rented every film I could find, and was continually impressed by the smart, character-driven productions. With such low budgets, his films have had to survive almost solely on the quality of their dialogue, and they thrive, with a remarkably coherent, sensuous mixture of biting cynicism and tender naivete, all without a whiff of the stinking self-importance that plagues so much contemporary ‘indie.’

You can call it postmodern slapstick, or existential romance, but whatever you dub the style of Hartley's works, they are uniquely and undeniably, his voice & sensibility shining through. Now, via Young Manhattanite, comes news that he has written a book. Some nice quotes pulled by Krucoff, from a recent interview:
By the time of No Such Thing and The Girl from Monday, True Fiction Pictures shows how Hartley'd began focusing on and critiquing media and its creation (and need) of quickly digestible (then regurgitated) products (hello blogs).
"More and more, I find myself pursuing this question of determining what is real. And does the real even matter to people anymore? You know, making this distinction between the facts -- or the truth, I guess -- and information. We love information. People get excited about access to information. Networking. The speed at which information can be moved around. But fewer and fewer people seem to care if that information is accurate. Does it mean anything? Can it be verified? Is it just lies, for instance. Advertising, I guess, would assert that lies -- if they're believed -- are information too. So, we come to believe whatever is information. We believe in information. But information is not knowledge."
..some of the images he constructs and choreographs are just as striking, as this books shows in with its film stills. He seems to think as much like a painter/photographer ("A movie can be very much composed. And this composition can be very exciting since it's executed by these living and breathing people.") as a filmmaker:



Additional plums the interviewer draws out from Hartley:

- how he finances his small-audience films,
- how/why he made a monster movie,
- the difference of filming in Iceland vs. Long Island,
- the filmmakers who influenced him,
- and how we no longer have "
a manner of living together as a community that has matured organically...through common expierence. Now, our manner of living together is dictated immediately through publicity and advertising... We don't, in fact, live together and experience things together that much anymore. It is mediated. In fact, not all of this worries me. A lot of it's fascinating, even."

Elina Löwensohn dances in Image by Salim Virji via Flickr


It's refreshing to see a film-maker I admire greatly, resisting that seductive urge so many artists and media theorists seem unable to -- the constantly blinding impetus to decry and devalue almost any new development in culture and art that doesn't fit within their self-serving critical framework.


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Show Us Your Tits for TBNYU!

Topless Women Talk About Their Lives album coverImage via Wikipedia

Hardcore TBNYU! supporters took advantage of the mild weather today to protest in a flash-ier way. Two girls stood outside Kimmel topless, proclaiming “Show your tits for TBNYU!” The shirtless protesters hung around for half an hour as TV news crews asked filmed their backs during interviews. Apparently the girls do in fact attend NYU.
{Photos by Sandy Gordon.}

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Let Us Consider the NYU Twerps

So you attempt to assert control and make some positive change to what you know and can conceivably handle—and if you're these kids, you do it like an asshole, with a nonsensical list of utopian goals that'd make an ANSWR organizer blush. (Gaza needs overhead projectors!) Anyone with any sense in their damn heads knows New York University is Not the Enemy, or at least not the enemy of Gaza and The Working Man. It's the enemy of New York, in a kinda blinkered nostalgic sense, but their demands, oddly, do not include "stop fucking with Washington Square and give back all your real estate to people who actually want to live here for serious and maybe re-open The Bottom Line."

It is a ridiculous Ponzi scheme, the tuitions at NYU that rise to bizarre and unconscionable levels, the paltry financial aid, and the adjunct wage-slaves, but the costs rise due to demand and the demand in this case is that all you little idiot Trotskyites wanted to go to the same school as fucking Felicity. (And hey, at least when New School kids have sit-ins they're protesting an actual war criminal.)

And while student activism in decades past was at least defensible as going after one pillar of establishment power, academia in 2009 is just a finishing school for rich kids and a playground for people who'd really like to spend their professional careers wrestling with the least important but most dramatic office politics in the world, so they can someday net that $300k salary and the reduced mortgage, only to get shit on by Politco and the rest of the world for making a living with their book-learnin' elitism.

So our advice to these kids is to go have a fucking cigarette and then Drop Out. Tell your parents to put the tuition money in a trust fund so you can continue living the life to which you were born accustomed as you volunteer to build some fucking houses somewhere, and then when that runs out why not get your degree at CUNY or something so you can sleep better at night.

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Direct Action: Revolution Strikes the NYU Food Court!

Kimmel Center for the Performing ArtsImage via Wikipedia
Not to alarm you sheep out there as you go about your bourgeois activities this morning, but you should be aware that that the NYU student center food court has been occupied by revolutionaries!!

Brothers and sisters of the proletariat, you must at this very moment drop your bacon egg and cheese wraps and rush down to the Marketplace at Kimmel Center, where a dashing group of Zapata-like freedom fighters has seized control of everything from the Yolato frozen yogurt stand to Cafe Spice's spicy Thai cuisine area. The group of attractive young sexually available rebels is called Take Back NYU!


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The Fountainhead in 5 Seconds

This is way beyond genius.


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Back in the ИSSR


Trouble in pranksta's paradise, as the ‘movement’ continues its melodramatic pow-wow for power. From comments on the bloap opera:
[RSU blogger]: "Let us celebrate our significant victory and join in building a student movement capable of being a catalyst for the type of change that our society needs. Education, protests, occupations, and strikes – we must do whatever we can to build a movement and take back our university."

[integrated]: Build the PARTY! I mean, movement! Yes, towards the consolidation of power into the MOVEMENT! Anything for the MOVEMENT! only the MOVEMENT can act! All praise the glorious MOVEMENT!

You don't need to lie to get things done. Movements, in the way you know them, are dead; future struggles will grind their gravestones into rocks for the insurrections to come.

Apparently, there is a rift between the Radical Student Union and the professional protesters who actually planned and guided this occupation, with the former scrambling to be relevant and to gather the sloppy seconds of vainglorious spin.

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A feel-good fridge-free farce

from Annals of self-loathing at PotterundefinedGold:
Apparently the latest thing in low-impact living is getting rid of your fridge. The NYTimes naturally has the details, though the featured performers are, improbably, a couple of public servants in Ottawa City, Canada:

FOR the last two years, Rachel Muston, a 32-year-old information-technology worker for the Canadian government in Ottawa, has been taking steps to reduce her carbon footprint — composting, line-drying clothes, installing an efficient furnace in her three-story house downtown.
About a year ago, though, she decided to “go big” in her effort to be more environmentally responsible, she said. After mulling the idea over for several weeks, she and her husband, Scott Young, did something many would find unthinkable: they unplugged their refrigerator.
Not everyone is sold on the idea:
Deanna Duke, who lives in Seattle and runs the site Ms. Willis visited, said that taking a stand for or against unplugging has become “a badge of honor” for those on either side. “It’s either ‘look how far I’m willing to go,’ or ‘look how far I’m not willing to go,’ ” she said. For her part, Ms. Duke may refrain from watering her lawn in an effort at conservation, but she’s firmly in the pro-refrigerator camp. “I can’t think of any circumstances, other than an involuntary extreme situation, that would make me unplug my fridge,” she said. “The convenience factor is too high.”

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