still inhaling that opiate for the masses i see. technology? media? no, we have long seen through such smoke and mirrors. the anonymizing affect of the marketplace where you feel your labor-value, your being, denigrated in comparison to the ‘gold’ standard. but what is this standard? this absolute that determines identity, the law of A=A, that inscribes upon stone tablets the myth of the 1:1 exchange? that technologically erected archi-tecture by the spirit of onto-theology.. that seeds the spirit of capitalism? against which the value of your labor, your seed pro-duct, your being regresses into oblivion? ‘gold’ standard? indeed, the streets of heaven are paved with it. yet the promise of progeny, of investment-gain is not so assured anymore. man’s will to self-promulgation stalled by, imprisoned within, a specular hall of infinite self-representations…within language, standard of the logos…ideological gold. oh ye of no faith…the man of values! the man of self-subsistence that subsists off of the marginalization, the labor of Others! to pave streets of gold. this man of ‘God’, of ‘Go(l)d’, the man of rationale and science, of self-deception and malaise! he who erects archi- (the causa sui!), indeed phalli-tectures to invest his seed capital into, dissemination of his pro-duct over the earth…covering, concealing Nature. self-expulsion, intentional razing of that primordial garden. dividing the labor- you, pull the weeds; you, fertilize; you, procure fruit; you, excavate…and so salvation history is written via the division of labor, via the splintered self, the economized garden…the spirit of phallogocentrism, the spirit of onto-theology! of deferred responsibility. all from what, the burden of the midday sun? indeed, these men of ‘God’ are no laborers. they know nothing of play. but of course we are not speaking of marketplaces nor capitalism, we are speaking of the science of ‘God’, the metaphysics par excellence- theology! the Spirit of phallo-capitalism that erects its storehouse, its house where it is to be stored, where its capital aggregates…or obliviates- the church! a storehouse! a marketplace par excellence..of self-idealism that posits, that births via the economic caesarean (by imperial mandate!), via the rape of science over Her body that pro-creates, that builds, that erects babel 2.0: the God of onto-theology.
ok, so in less aphoristic language…we are all lazy idiots. the positing of an antipodal distance between work and play creates the master-slave paradigm, it creates morality. religion. a market. when we cease to be responsible for our own means of subsistence, we require a labor force, we rely on a marketplace to procure resources. we become reliant on superstructures. we of the first-world problems. we invest, divest, our ousia, our inheritance, our being into an ideal that was posited, to do the work we dont want to do, for us. instead what happens is we are subjected to the demands that we created and are forced to work all the more, further entrenching our already faulty self-referential psychology in the idealisms of oppositions…of morality that posits good and evil, work and play. but of course this isn’t strictly about capitalism. this is about the affair between christianity and reason that aborts faith. christianity exists at the expense of faith. but i’m in no mood to spoon feed today.
if one were to pull a thoreau and do a walden, one would not require the marketplace.
but the existence of the market ideal sustains law and order.
would not the dissolution of the marketplace result in anarchy? the dissolution of the social contract?
for what is such a contract other than that made for the marketplace?
where fair exchange can be agreed upon in a civil, moral (value-driven) way.
the cost of providing for one’s self one’s own material subsistence…is the forfeit of protection,
and the embrace of possession. of self-representation.
see how intractable of a problem this is?
we are so used to such phallic orders that to think their contrary, to think [nothingness] seems futile..
seems mad. seems sadomasochistic. yet it is here that faith begins.
related posts:
the birth of ‘God’
aborted margins
madness? this is sparta!
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