/lit/ - Literature

Ever since truly understanding Marxism and becoming a Marxist I have had the best orgasms of my entire life. I am really into female domination, especially deep but subtle psychological dynamics, like everyday situations that are just subtly tinged with corruption, cruelty, and normalized exploitation. Marxist theory has allowed me to see modern consumer society as a dystopian nightmare in which my sexual fantasies are constantly taking place, in a form so unbearably actual that it almost overwhelms me.

Now that I see the dialectic of historical materialism inherent in everything, can connect every social gesture in its visible manifestation as erscheinungsform back to the actual concrete production relations undergirding it, I can instantly see how arbitrary is the capitalist ruling class' stranglehold over the ideological superstructure of society. No matter what sprawling labyrinthine interarticulations of class-justifying, proletariat-narcotizing ideology I am presented with, no matter how badly interpellated I even am myself in those articulations, I can immediately and intuitively trace them back to their source in the brute fact of capital accumulation, and in the sheer arbitrariness of the historic bloc's self-selection for pampered technocratic servitors and managerial functionaries.

At the level of political praxis, I hope this will make me an effective opponent of late-stage capitalism, but on a personal level, it really gives me a rock hard boner when I see ruling class white women implicitly dominating their pathetic grovelling third world serfs through a translucent sheen of paper-thin ideology. The Asian women who work at nail salons are literally Roman body slaves. Once you strip the structure of ideology away, it's just two people, two human beings free and equal before the eye of God, except one of them is relaxing serenely, while the other one tends to the lowest and filthiest parts of her body, and has to accept this dynamic with a smile. I wish I could masturbate into nail salon windows while waving a communist flag.

I can walk around with a solid rod in my pants just by contemplating the dialectic and observing women in public. There's a young woman wearing much nicer clothes, undoubtedly purchased by her rich tax-sheltering father, sitting right next to a shabbily dressed woman who will have to work every day of her life, get sicker more often, look old and weathered much sooner, and die 20 years earlier. There's a young spoiled woman who coasted at a fancy school despite having no considerable intellectual talents, practically stepping over a workman who is 70 and still can't retire from menial labor. There's a college girl who flies around the country or goes on vacation multiple times a year at leisure, because her father swindled money from the working class as a financial advisor.

It's endless. It's like I've tapped right into the source. Sometimes I can't take it and I curse myself for ever having read Marx.