Wow this one ended up dull

I'm not kidding; this one ended up really dull. (I mean the text of the entry, not the painting. The painting is bananas.)

Dear diary,

I think I’ve been using the word “capital” wrong. I’ve been employing it as a synonym for “money”; but apparently the two terms are not absolutely interchangeable.

But, even as I write this, I notice that the dictionary definitions of both words seem similar enough, and “capital” is indeed listed among the synonyms in money’s definition, altho “money” is not listed among capital’s synonyms. Money is “a current medium of exchange in the form of coins and banknotes,” and capital is “wealth in the form of money or other assets owned”. So it’s a mere medium versus the wealth itself. Capital encompasses money; but money is only a part of capital: it does not encompass it.

All this is important to me because I gripe about capitalism so much. The reason it’s crucial to more clearly define these terms is that a lot of the population of the globe which might otherwise be my friends assume they’re my enemies because they stand up for this system that I’m dismissing — and it might help us attain the state of friendship if we agree that this system is worth dismissing: we’re actually on the same team, unwittingly. The way to come to this conclusion is to understand that even the backers of capitalism don’t really back capitalism. Here’s what I mean:

My own parents, as well as my sweetheart’s parents, as well as all the parents of all umpteen of our extended families, as well as my boss’s parents (to take the nearest examples of “elders” in my life, since elders are supposed to be good eggs) — all these responsible citizens assume that they’re capitalists: they believe they love this system; and when I mention that I hate this system and call myself an anti-capitalist, they all collectively gasp and make the sign of the cross.

But they are mistaken in their love — we all actually love the same thingamabob, but they’re mislabeling it whereas I’m simply refusing to give it a label (out of a desire for clarity). Here’s where all those who are not myself go wrong:

They define capitalism as a simple game wherein everyone works hard to procreate and nurture an honest business, such as a store that sells sports supplies, or a bakery, or a fleet of trucks. But we all could bring forth and raise up our strip-mall golf-shops, our pastry cafes, and our transport companies, in a variety of economic systems: these things are NOT inherently capitalistic.

The beauty mark of capitalism which sets it apart from the other damsels (and please correct me if I’m wrong about this, which I fear that I am, because I’ve never really been right about anything for long: I usually find out that what I’d been teaching the western hemisphere for two thousand years was actually hogwash), I say, the defining trait about our current world nightmare that sets it apart from every other style of economy is that capitalism aims to MAKE money FROM money. It does not value hard work, necessarily — that’s more of a Protestant fetish, “work hard or eat not” (perhaps we should call this hang-up, instead of Protestant, Pauline, after the Apostle Paul my archenemy; or maybe just tightfisted, unloving… sadomasochistic?) — I mean, if you wanna work hard for your money, some capitalist out there will allow you to do that, and they’ll smirk in a way that they intend to look solicitous while you continue to sweat; but until you’re making money off of money, until your money itself spreads its legs and bears $$$, you’re only making a fool of yourself. Real capitalists don’t work beyond scheming to entangle others in debt nets, or interest traps (etc.) — tricks like that: I don’t mean to limit the scope of evils.

So all the people I meet in life who think they’re pro-capitalism are in fact anti-capitalism albeit unawares. (I know no banksters.) The reason I say this is that I’ve met many lovers of business, lovers of learning and labor, lovers of technological advancement, all of which things are NOT exclusive to capitalism (they’re not even offshoots; they’re barely tolerated by this system: this system must be leashed back from killing them); but I’ve yet to meet a single soul who even likes, let alone manages to avoid intensely hating, the actual attributes unique to capitalism, like compound interest payments...

*

Now I want to apologize to myself for wasting our talents this sweet morning, while the children are culling on every side, in a thousand valleys far and wide, fresh flowers; and the sun shines warm, and the babe leaps up on its money’s arm:—

But no: I am NOT sorry for harping like I have done. I cannot stand this eon. When will it end! This generation of vipers. The Age of the Pyramid Scheme.

Dear serpents, how long can ye postpone your damnation? (Matthew 23:33)

It’s cuz 99% of us can’t stand the effects of this brutal system, so we engage in charity, and thus the system survives and is able to ravage another future. That’s, I think, what that saying means: Charity is the opiate of capitalism. (I guess that’s a Nellie McKay song lyric — I overheard it recently and assumed it was an old saying.) Here’s a real old saying:

We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out. And having food and raiment let us be therewith content.

But they that will be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.

For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.

(1 Timothy 6:7-10)

So our money-loving system of capitalism is evil; but it’s hard for its victims to admit this. It’s hard to let it fail. Instead of killing it, Bernie Sanders wants to save it, as FDR tried to save it — or rather FDR got pressured into doing so, by the sufferers of the Great Depression. But look how briefly the People’s salvation lasts:

The “New Deal” was begun in the 1930s, roughly speaking, thus we haven’t even reached its centennial birthday, and the thing’s already gutted; but now US politicians are proposing another “New Deal”, this time a “Green” one, and I’m all in favor of its principles (my inner pragmatist desires it to become a reality ASAP), however, that’s also exactly why I’m annoyed: for how long do we expect this next deal will last, if the problems that it intends to solve derive from generators that we allow to thrive instead of abolishing? Aren’t we all just bailing water instead of fixing the leak in our boat? (HINT: the correct answer is “Eradicate Capitalism”. At least cancel out all debts and illegalize usury.)

What is it that makes us pity our abuser? Why is it so hard to tax the rich? Why are we so reluctant to place limits on inequality? Our economy is entirely manmade: it’s just a collection of clunky rules. The existence of just one houseless person means the rules needed changing YESTERDAY. But instead of simply fixing our instruction book, we slumber on year after year watching the houseless masses expand. I just wonder: Are we all gonna wait until the vast majority of us are houseless before we dare admit to each other “This fad of our forefathers might be imperfect”?

P.S.

As I always say, when I write about the problems of our economic system: I regret that I wrote about the problems of our economic system. Because the topic is boring. Examples of non-boring topics are: time travel; dolphins; aliens; zombies; vampires; genies; tygers; and surfing in paradise. But I keep allowing myself to descend into the tedium of carping about our economic system, cuz that’s what all my favorite Hebrew Prophets did. (If you don’t believe me, go ahead and read them: be my guest; I haven’t burned all the books up YET.)

Not that I’d want to be a prophet — even if they called me and said “We have a position that just opened; would you like it? The pay is ten dollars.” I don’t know if I’d accept. Cuz there’s a lot of heavy lifting involved with that job. Plus I’m happy where I’m at, just goofing off most of the time.

Plus, if you look at what they (the ancient prophets) said, and then compare that to what I’m saying today, it’s basically the same thing: and you might presume that I’m going to use this fact to prove that I am already a prophet, but no; my point is that prophecy does not work:

It’s like, if economic justice is ice cream, and rampant inequality is melted ice cream, then WHY O WHY would you join a crew of misfits who claim that they can keep your dessert perma-frozen? For all desserts, throughout all time, have always melted.

Tho I’d prefer that there WERE a cure that would lead to endless winter; then I’d just give up, throw in the towel, take five, flip my retail shop’s front-door sign to read “gone fame-searching; back in fifteen (I care nothing for luncheon)”, take a fishing trip with my friends, become fishers of men, then return refreshed & decide to stop fighting so hard for harmony & simply chill & relax & enjoy contemplating the way that entropy moves. The process of the change from better to worse. There’s a lot of interesting material in there. One might write a play about it...

A heroine might cop an attitude with her world, and the world might fall in love with her. The heroine might think this conquest too easy and thus treat her world with disdain. The world might wander off into the woods and shoot itself with the very pistol that earlier was offered to it by our heroine.

Are we, as authors, now responsible for the murder of our pretend world? A pretend crime deserves a pretend punishment. We should even perhaps be given the pretend death penalty. However (and listen close now, because here’s where I’m going to reveal my designs upon you), if the authors are all barred from living their lives to the fullest, and the pretend world inside their story remains self-slaughtered, then the heroine gets off free after committing many crimes. I say: What’s wrong with that? She sorta deserves it. And she’s just as pretend as the rest of us. Let it be.

The only problem that I can discover in talking like this, as if we’re all just characters in a play that doesn’t ultimately matter, is that everything becomes too easily disposable, like the world in our masterwork above, and thus we learn to disdain all things, like sparrows and frogs — to be clear, I am using those two types of soul to stand for all living creatures collectively.

We saw four foxes in our backyard yesterday: I don’t wanna disdain them: I wanna believe that they truly matter. But the price to pay for such a view is to admit that pain is real. And if pain is not able to be blotted like a bad wording by ERASER-CHRIST, then all those creatures and you and I must needs meet the same fate, more or less.

Not that it doesn’t matter whether we accomplish anything of note before we expire; it’s that our futility harbors worth for none but true souls.

So if you neglect to continue pursuing your existential calling, you’re not really giving up on yourself: yourself already gave up on yourself when it descended from death into life; rather you’re giving up on your comrades, your friends, and all your future lovers (not to mention your readership).

This explains why it was imperative for me to compose yet another epistle-to-self about how I despise capitalism. I’m only trying to do the right thing for our grandchildren.