“He mistrusted all of that. He said the right dreams for a man in peril were dreams of peril and all else was the call of languor and of death.”
-- Cormac McCarthy, The Road
...so much of the world we inhabit, in all its gray capitalist drudgery, in all its gaudy pomp, its tatty circumstance, its bricolage culture, is a product of our acquiescence. The notion of the unreachable distance of the ideal may represent more a failure of collective imagination than a material impediment. How many of us are convinced that there is no alternative to capitalism? How many have ingested that neoliberal narcotic of foreclosed imaginations?
mainstream-101-suppressing-socialism
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