Excerpt from Book One, Chapter 6, 'The World According To Sa'
“We must get our own house in better order before crusading for leadership in the world,” she went on, her head tilted to one side, raising her shoulder and dropping it for effect. “Our GNP does not confer upon the owners of record a right of dominion wherever on earth a desirable resource or new market may appear.
“A globalism worth having is led by national models worth having. The only true leadership, and the only effective ideological export, is our shining example at home.”
“We don’t shine at home,” came out of my mouth unbidden. She paused to take me in.
“Our domestic condition is a misery of financial neurosis for most Americans. Our chief global export is financial gangsterism, rapacious extraction, and military empire, along with the lie of affluence for the hard working, the lie of power of the people, and the lie of freedom of persuasion,” she said with blistering intent. “These are mere jingo markers for the expansion mandate of corporate wealth. We liberate the rich where we conquer, to deepen their entrenchment and power.”
She paused, and I could see she was making an effort to simmer down.
“These, you see, are words from my own anger and revulsion,” she added quietly.
She returned to the candle for a moment, as if for sustenance, then turned to face me again. The light was behind her now, her form a silhouette, the flame behind her head as if her hair were ablaze. She appeared supernatural for a moment, the impression lingering around her voice.
“We shall never know our talent in a world of need. That’s big bad Karl in ten words.”
“Eleven,” I corrected, alertly, and she laughed in assent, “Even so.”
“I never heard it put like that,” I continued, damping down the swell of pride her laugh occasioned in me. “All I really know are slogans,” I confessed, and again I had a spell of goose bumps. When I’d stopped fidgeting, what came out was the common sentiment: “Politics are a waste of time.”
“Voting has become ineffectual as a challenge to the status quo,” she agreed. “The vote could fade away and not be missed, for all the good it does,” she added, pacing and turning to face me. “Indeed, the turnout shows its popularity fading with each cycle. The minority of civic minded people who trouble to vote push the button for democracy itself, holding their nose to pick from apologists and liars of the status quo, grateful for an occasionally articulate or charismatic one. There is no essence to issue politics for all issues are framed in capitalism. There is no inspired socialist party in counterweight, and no basis for hope from an exclusive democracy, one privately owned by the capitalized few, with a vicious market as its god. Long ago gone, an itch alone remains. Democracy in America is a phantom limb.”
She had made my point in spades I thought.
“But no, it does not follow that politics are a waste of time,” she corrected, “or that voting must remain as it is. Voting is as dangerous to the status quo as participants fashion it to be, and the governing cannot outlaw such fair opposition as may in time arise without inviting civil war. Voting remains the keenest vulnerability of the big business state, and with well applied resources it can be raised to transformative power.”
“Wait, what are you saying, you want to make a socialist party? In America?” I asked with incredulity. Before tonight I would have laughed outright.
“The word socialist is wrecked in the American psyche,” she replied. “Two centuries of questioning and thought have been rendered taboo and blanked out of mainstream consciousness. Yet I think both existing parties are overripe for splitting, and party making will be a chord in my concert.”
--Revolutionary meets 'The Street' in An Epiphany On Wall Street
Book One in the Nine Inch Bride series. http://nineinchbride.com