/lit/ - Literature

>Capital is something like a tyrant from another planet whose opaque remorseless predilections, sadistic rapacity, glacial indifference, strange tolerances and calculated concessions are ‘explained’ by ‘economists’ and ‘political scientists’, flattered and lampooned in satirical cartoons, and embodied by ‘lawyers’, ‘politicians’ and ‘executives’, our societal life, in this bizarre dispensation, being a perpetual desperate negotiation with an alien arrangement of things with which we have, necessarily, identified ourselves and our success, unaware of the ineluctable accommodation that was our demise.
>-Marty Glass-
Pretty much sums up pic related.

>The truth about Capitalism, like the truth about the West, has also become an irrelevant infamy of vital import. The deliberate and unashamed production of measureless volumes of trash is a chief characteristic of the society, or social relationship, Marx called Capital, Das Kapital. Trash to adorn the body, to furnish and decorate the house, to save labour and time, to evidence success, to divert the mind. Therefore the frenzied inflammation of an appetite to consume, to own, to experience, to disport oneself in every conceivable manner. The incensement of an insatiable acquisitiveness as the basic rationale of society, whose alternating episodes of fleeting satisfaction and vigorous renewed pursuit are defined as the twin modes of human fulfilment. Therefore universal deception, exploitation and manipulation, with trained experts who specialize in the techniques of appeal appropriate to children, teen-age girls, teen-age boys, parents, widows, manual labourers, the aged: to every imaginable social category, including the experts themselves, and to categories literally imagined in order to create new markets. And all of this socially sanctioned, encouraged, celebrated, flaunted before the envious fervor of ‘developing nations’. All this is normal. We bask in the sycophantic irony of the entrapped and defeated. Capital is something like a tyrant from another planet whose opaque remorseless predilections, sadistic rapacity, glacial indifference, strange tolerances and calculated concessions are ‘explained’ by ‘economists’ and ‘political scientists’, flattered and lampooned in satirical cartoons, and embodied by ‘lawyers’, ‘politicians’ and ‘executives’, our societal life, in this bizarre dispensation, being a perpetual desperate negotiation with an alien arrangement of things with which we have, necessarily, identified ourselves and our success, unaware of the ineluctable accommodation that was our demise. (Or, in the hackneyed simile, it’s a mechanism in which we are all interchangeable parts: ‘cogs in the machine’.) Capitalism is spiricide. A herald of the End.

>>12217010
I concur.

>The truth about Capitalism, like the truth about the West, has also become an irrelevant infamy of vital import. The deliberate and unashamed production of measureless volumes of trash is a chief characteristic of the society, or social relationship, Marx called Capital, Das Kapital. Trash to adorn the body, to furnish and decorate the house, to save labour and time, to evidence success, to divert the mind. Therefore the frenzied inflammation of an appetite to consume, to own, to experience, to disport oneself in every conceivable manner. The incensement of an insatiable acquisitiveness as the basic rationale of society, whose alternating episodes of fleeting satisfaction and vigorous renewed pursuit are defined as the twin modes of human fulfilment. Therefore universal deception, exploitation and manipulation, with trained experts who specialize in the techniques of appeal appropriate to children, teen-age girls, teen-age boys, parents, widows, manual labourers, the aged: to every imaginable social category, including the experts themselves, and to categories literally imagined in order to create new markets. And all of this socially sanctioned, encouraged, celebrated, flaunted before the envious fervor of ‘developing nations’. All this is normal. We bask in the sycophantic irony of the entrapped and defeated. Capital is something like a tyrant from another planet whose opaque remorseless predilections, sadistic rapacity, glacial indifference, strange tolerances and calculated concessions are ‘explained’ by ‘economists’ and ‘political scientists’, flattered and lampooned in satirical cartoons, and embodied by ‘lawyers’, ‘politicians’ and ‘executives’, our societal life, in this bizarre dispensation, being a perpetual desperate negotiation with an alien arrangement of things with which we have, necessarily, identified ourselves and our success, unaware of the ineluctable accommodation that was our demise. (Or, in the hackneyed simile, it’s a mechanism in which we are all interchangeable parts: ‘cogs in the machine’.) Capitalism is spiricide. A herald of the End.
-Marty Glass-