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The American Way of Life! Eat too much, work too much, buy too much, read too little, think even less, and die in poverty and insecurity.
To expect capitalists to critique themselves was like asking the police to police themselves—
Except that it is unprintable, as the truth too often is: “Now that we are the powerful, we don’t need the French or the Americans to fuck us over—” “We can fuck ourselves just fine,” she said.
Unfortunately, conditions are not yet in place for genuine communism. Capitalism has to win globally and become the worst version of itself before communism can subvert it. The workers of the world have to see that capitalism is only interested in profit, not them, and that it will inevitably reduce them to slave labor as it maximizes profit.
“The colonized is a persecuted person whose permanent dream is to become the persecutor.”
Just between you and me, it’s the CIA’s unofficial motto: FUCK THEM BEFORE THEY FUCK US
I’d like to go to Heaven—which is what Jesus Christ must have whimpered as he faded on the cross.
This specimen flaunted the plumage of a tailored plaid suit, a tasteful tie in a fat Windsor knot, gleaming cuff links, polished wingtips, and a copy of Le Figaro, with the biggest bulge in his sleek profile not in the front of his pants but the back, where a thick wallet shielded his ass from being kicked. Only his heels showed signs of wear, having been used to grind down the hopes and dreams of the working class.
My father had taught me that alphabet, and now I spelled it on Madeleine, rehearsing every letter over and over again as she cried out in her mother tongue and as I added punctuation and accent marks for good measure, until I—at long, long last—was literate.
A beautiful blonde could call me anything.
I desperately needed to feel like a man! Or perhaps I just wanted to feel like a man. Not needing to be a man seemed . . . liberating.
feel it
