Free Trade Death Knell

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At the very core of liberal democracy and capitalism’s ideology is the disjuncture between fantasy and reality. To ascribe to unfettered individualism is to neglect the inherent sociability that is built into all human beings and the groups they necessarily compose. All work is done within an integral set of relations, realized or not. The infiltration of the market into all arenas of social life has put prices on those qualities of life that are priceless, bastardizing them in the process while making them unavailable to the many. Ours is a world marked by the illusion of uniqueness that constantly tries to vindicate the production of inequality. Free trade agreements, from NAFTA to the now-negotiated TPP, are vehicles whose sole purpose is to push this fantasy forward at the expense of both people and the environment that it is intrinsically a part of. This fiction exists because we continue to write it, like a bad dream we continue to have together. When we wake up, our hands will be marked by the blood of our sisters and brothers.

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*****At the very core of liberal democracy and capitalism’s ideology is the disjuncture between fantasy and reality. To ascribe to unfettered individualism is to neglect the inherent sociability that is built into all human beings and the groups they necessarily compose. All work is done within an integral set of relations, realized or not. The infiltration of the market into all arenas of social life has put prices on those qualities of life that are priceless, bastardizing them in the process while making them unavailable to the many. Ours is a world marked by the illusion of uniqueness that constantly tries to vindicate the production of inequality. Free trade agreements, from NAFTA to the now-negotiated TPP, are vehicles whose sole purpose is to push this fantasy forward at the expense of both people and the environment that it is intrinsically a part of. This fiction exists because we continue to write it, like a bad dream we continue to have together. When we wake up, our hands will be marked by the blood of our sisters and brothers.*****


FTAA, TPP
Zapatistas set me free
Commodified, fall in line
Broken, fractured I’ll be fine

Free trade, death knell

NAFTA, CAFTA
Tie my hands
Bricks to ankles scorched earth sand
Privatized, close your eyes, Seattle 1999

Fuck
We’re all taking turns, breaking our own sweats
Cubicles to individualize our deaths
Memorials to empty skies
Islands filled with lords of flies
Fail to see the more you try

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from Demo, released October 30, 2015

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Convulsant Bloomfield, New Jersey

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