:: Re: [unSYSTEM] RIPUSA
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Author: ben
Date:  
To: System undo crew
Subject: Re: [unSYSTEM] RIPUSA
Hehe :) Nice one Caleb. Very good wrinting indeed! I like to think
about the world how it can be, and will be in the future instead of
looking too much in the past.

2014-10-26 0:40 GMT+02.00, Juan S. Galt <eljuangalt@???>:
> That was an amazing read. Thank you Caleb
>
> On Sat, Oct 25, 2014 at 5:55 PM, Caleb James DeLisle <cjd@???> wrote:
>
>> Yesterday I decided to write something, I can't imagine doing this
>> professionally, with just this tiny piece I feel too emotionally
>> exhausted to defend it's veracity or really comment on any of it
>> but I thought someone here might find it interesting.
>>
>> It's mirrored on my little static server http://thewebmustdie.com/
>>
>> CC-BY-SA with love from Paris
>>
>> -----BEGIN OF END-----
>>
>> It's getting colder out, I still have the window cracked and true to my
>> Yankee upbringing I refuse
>> to turn on the heat. New England Winter sets in slowly, every day is just
>> a little bit colder than
>> the day before. As long as the stove isn't burning it's still Fall, but
>> Fall turns into Late Fall
>> and then into Late Late Fall and we tell ourselves that the inch of snow
>> we woke up to see will
>> surely melt by tomorrow. Surrender comes with the strike of a match. Once
>> the stove is burning
>> there's no going back but the feeling of defeat and the long Winter ahead
>> is buffered by the warmth
>> radiating off the stove. It is this time of year that in hardware stores
>> and coffee shops across
>> New England, old timers say to one another "have you started your stove
>> yet?".
>>
>> It is also this time of year that zombie Santa Clause rises from his
>> grave. With the eyes of a
>> crackmonster who hasn't seen sleep since Thanksgiving, he wanders the
>> lonely Televisions and
>> Department stores desperately imploring someone to buy something. Buy
>> something, you owe it to
>> your family, give them the gifts of greed and want, it will wash away the
>> year's sins. Put it on
>> your Master Card, next year will be better.
>>
>> The past few weeks have left me feeling nostalgic for an America that
>> maybe never was and will
>> certainly never be again. Before the obsessive masturbation of the fear
>> instinct, before the police
>> turned into an occupying force, back when the junkie on the corner was a
>> gainfully employed used car
>> salesman.
>>
>> Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Loud music, good whiskey and
>> fast automobiles.
>>
>> The debunking of this mythical place I called home would not have
>> troubled
>> me so were it not
>> the debunking of everything it stood for. Toward the end, Conspiracy
>> Theory provided a last glimmer
>> of hope for the Ideals on which The Republic stood. The vain hope that
>> some overlooked detail
>> about The Grassy Knoll or the Plane At The Pentagon would negate the cold
>> reality that given the
>> right to vote, the average person will elect and re-elect Nixons and
>> Bushes until a nation is
>> plundered, discredited and defunct. Every Jimmy Carter, every Barack
>> Obama, everyone who
>> has ever tried to change things merely swam against the tide. A tide of
>> ghoulish monsters who
>> will keep on electing their ghoulish monster presidents until the whole
>> freak show comes grinding
>> to a halt.
>>
>> 64 years ago, times were better. After World War 2, Europe was rebuilding
>> and in the eyes of
>> Western Europeans, the US had saved the world. Gold flowed into Fort Knox
>> and investment into
>> Wall Street, for the first time in American history, there was a middle
>> class and they bought
>> houses and cars and Televisions. For the first time they could proudly
>> watch the cowboys win the
>> west every Sunday night. This would be the blessing of the 20th century.
>> The curse, that every
>> year would be a little bit leaner and a little bit more wretched than the
>> last.
>>
>> Thinking back of the terrible atrocities committed in the later half of
>> the 20th century, one
>> can't help but imagine a group of old men sitting around a table facing
>> The Devil in a balance
>> sheet. The American Way of Life was never particularly sustainable, when
>> Europe got back on it's
>> feet and took back it's gold and investments, I imagine the nervous
>> meetings. The looming economic
>> catastrophe from an overextended financial system and a population who'd
>> tasted the good life and
>> wanted more. Faced with a hole darker and deeper than the Great
>> Depression, fearful men made a
>> cheap decision. With a few financial hat tricks backed up by things too
>> horrifying to mention,
>> the system would not implode, instead it would rot away bit by bit.
>>
>> I do not wish to think of the United States as it is today. I prefer to
>> remember it through film,
>> to experience the open road and the enormous Red Convertible sailing down
>> the interstate at 100
>> miles an hour with the radio blaring. It may not be real but it is the
>> America I wish to remember.
>>
>> There is also another America, inside of your pocket and on my desk, a
>> series of tubes as it were.
>> A place which could never have existed without wild and unruly spending
>> that only an Empire can
>> muster. As the Pyramids are to Egypt, and The Wall is to China, The
>> Internet can only be the Great
>> Wonder of America. And it could be no more fitting that America's great
>> wonder would be, an open
>> road, a road spanning every continent and crossing every ocean. A road
>> complete with the swindlers
>> and the highwaymen but a road none the less. And somewhere down the road,
>> somewhere, anything is
>> possible. Just Press Search.
>>
>> -----EOT-----
>> _______________________________________________
>> unSYSTEM mailing list: http://unsystem.net
>> https://mailinglists.dyne.org/cgi-bin/mailman/listinfo/unsystem
>>
>
>
>
> --
> Juan S. Galt
>
> Bitcoin Correspondent & Advisor
> At EmbarkBitcoin.com
>
> Co-Founder of BitcoinBay.ca
>
> Content Archive at juansgulch.com
>
> Send me Btc at onename.io/juansgalt
> Twitter @juansgalt
>



--
Mvh Ben Johansen