I’m currently in a state of healing. Some days it means waking up and working out, others it’s drinking tea while sitting in the sun and reading, some it’s sleeping in late, others it’s a mix of all 3. The point is I’m healing and I will be ok. We all will be ok.
These aren't people. These aren't companies. These aren't cities. These are states, ENTIRE STATES suing the FCC
New York, California, Oregon, Vermont, Washington, Delaware, Hawaii, Iowa, Illinois, Massachusetts, Kentucky, Maine, Maryland, North Carolina, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, and Virginia have teamed up vs the FCC. Now who’s gunna win? One company or 17 massive states of the United States of America? Some of which have very big voices.
Under Capitalism everything is commodified, everything becomes a product. What was once a simple patch of woods cannot continue to exist unless it serves a function. Of course, the only function deemed worthwhile or of value is if that patch of woods is making money. To stay a patch of woods it must become a park, which means it must be bought and held by a board of executors or government agency who worry that too many raccoons might cause problems so they’ll have to call an exterminator. To simply be requires that this patch of woods transform itself into someone’s property, or that it be managed and governed, and that’s if we still want it to be a patch of woods! Unfortunately very few people have the time for such an endeavor (time is money after all) and would rather bulldoze and rip up the woods to make something profitable. All the lives and spirits contained within literally amount to nothing in the face of “the market” because the wild world exists outside the realms of profit.
Because it cannot grovel before capitalism, it must be destroyed.
President William Howard Taft’s pet cow, Pauline, stands the on lawn in front of the State, War and Navy Building in Washington, circa 1909-13. A gift from Senator Isaac Stephenson of Wisconsin, Taft was one of the last presidents to keep a cow at the White House .
The great thing about poetry is that it is simply not ‘commodifiable.’ Materially speaking, it’s worthless in this culture. There’s very, very little money to be made from writing poetry. In that way, it’s subversive since anyone can steal it. Anyone can take it. Anyone can learn it by heart. Anyone can whisper it, can carry it into a jail, through borders, across all sorts of state lines. Poetry is that which can be carried anywhere. It’s invisible. And that makes it very, very precious in a culture where everything has a price. It still has a purity.