Liberal Choicelessness


After socialized and enforced feminization, the thing  I find most difficult about society, is enforced  bourgeois culture. Of course the two are connected.

Literally. Middle class liberals talk about freedom and liberty, but they usually mean to consume more; more drugs, more booze, more porn, more prostitutes, more kill women!! horror films. They never talk about other freedoms, broader freedoms.

I can’t just go live on a hill that no-one is using. Or grow vegetables or flowers on a bit of barren land. I am moved on from sleeping in doorways and kicked out of the empty council buildings in which I have made a squat, and not offered any alternative means of living, what with the lack of suitable occupations for large swathes of what have become – and liberals pretend don’t exist – the underclass. The lumpenproles. And most of the women lumpenproles skit by by laying down for middle class men who care for nothing but their empty pleasures…reinforcing the notion these women have grown up with that they are worth nothing more than what men want from them.

A friend’s friend tried to set fire to her house, with her in it, and was locked up. Criminal shitting masterminding, suicide. And she said that every single woman in the prison was ‘online’. Prison to prostitution, prison to prostitution.

And even those who try to make something good out of the very ground, out of the cracks in the earth not owned, or used, are treated as scum.

The groups that try and build nifty houses out of abandoned materials – that people throw into bypasses because the government makes cut backs on refuse collection, whilst the rich elites swan about in bright yellow cars that look like fucking bananas – and go into supermarket bins to remove and eat the ‘waste’ that is thrown away… are criminalized. Or encounter their store of sustenance slashed with blue paint because the supermarkets don’t want you to touch Their Property. Food. Of the Earth. Their Fucking Property.

If I buy a piece of agricultural land I am not permitted to live on it, even if just in a small, sweet wooden shed. But planning land is extortionate and the only people who can afford to buy it are those with the sort of money obsessed limited imaginations to build swathes of red boxes, with tilted park enough to slide the two to three cars people seem to feel they need. With squares of garden lined meticulously with tedious pots of bland, scentless, baby pink flowers; grass ready and waiting for middle age blokes to stomp around with lawnmowers slicing up frogs and insects and eco systems…which Mother Nature throws all her energy into trying to build. From the ground up, not the top down. As she does. There he is with his big Man Tool. Taking control of that shit.

And so unable to escape, and freed from meaningful choices,many of us have hours of empty time in the evening. And nothing to do but spend the little surplus cash we have to buy another thinly made cardigan or gimcrack or whatnot.  All the while feeling the stink of guilt – pushed on use by The Daily Fascist, or The Sin, directly or through their legions of dim minions –  that if only we saved our cardigan money one day we can buy a house. By which time the elites will have built houses on the Moon to get away from us guttersnipes… and we can move into their sports cars and swimming pools, in any case.

Yes, most of us only make an offensively small amount more that what we need to live, and so no wonder we obsess over the price hikes in tobacco and high percentage cider. Cider or cardigan, cider or cardigan? The choices!! And we don’t even have fucking gardens to make look flimsy and tedious because we live in asbestos boxes. Away from the hub of the action…pushed out of inner cities by cereal cafes and a hundred frickin’ coffee and Portuguese pastry shops. Not even owned by the Portuguese, but some bearded wazzock called Oliver Brick Stips.

Moved out with the Cantonese chefs who can’t compete with the bland bowls dished up by some environmentally unsustainable British CEO billionaire at Wagabollox. The sort of flavourless glut that the urban liberals so love. Hardcore pornography, and tepid, watery soup.

Maybe one day the these liberal middle classes will wake up out  of their self indulgent haze of self gratification … and realize their ‘choices’ are Bereft.And in order to have them, they are mass crapping on piles of people who have only the choice to try and survive.


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