All posts by Arsène
Please stop protesting. Especially if you’re sincere about it.
There’s nothing you can actually do in the real world as a crowd that’ll have any effect whatsoever on the elite. A protest is just a bunch of people complaining, causing headaches for what are in all likelihood very tired city workers who’re facing the same issues.
There’ll be sensational media coverage and helping hands from politicians, yes, but they’re chasing stories and re-elections and the truly powerful don’t see us; we’re on public streets, they’re in private planes.
Protests in their current form will never work. If they’re to ever actually affect change they’re going to have to evolve and resemble something along the likes of crowd-funded hacking and cracking. Things such as DDoS attacks on financial and legal institutes and their infrastructures.
Groups like Anonymous, sites like Wikileaks, people like Snowden, and inventions like Bitcoins have all been effective because they understand that the modern world is fiber optics. This is where the powerful of today operate, online, not in buildings in Lower Manhattan, New York or The White House.
Personally, I find the concept of a digital-age protest refreshing. Torrenting has proven that there’s nothing the law can do to reign in a massive group of people participating in an illegal but publicly acceptable activity that doesn’t physically or emotionally harm anybody. And so there’re no limits to what can be accomplished when millions of people fund a group of people who’re moral, capable, willing, and brave enough to go to the lengths of holding banks hostage and falling on their swords in the aftermath. There are bound to be hiccups of course, but I can’t wait for that.
Wait for that. Work for that. Until then, stop protesting. It’s a waste of everyone’s time.
Language is a poor translator.
You ask me how a moment feels, and after proper consideration I say, “Like Rwanda,” and you think I’m being poetic-yet-again, soft, weird, strangely romantic; but I’m telling you that it feels like making a dangerous game of running barefoot because it’s that hot in the summer, like visiting family who live on mountains so far removed that at night the fireflies light the edge of the world and the stars are big enough to be a handful, like classrooms with no doors and teachers with sticks big enough to beat knowledge into you, like laughing hysterically after a rabid dog bites your friend in the butt, like granddad laughing about bombs placed in his cars, like knowing dad by his presence in the shadows of your memories.
… and I say, “Like Kenya,” and I’d mean it feels like Continue Reading →
Refugee bans are as American as the protests against them. The mindsets behind both are deeply woven into the fabric that is the American flag.
Anne Frank and thousands of other refugees were refused admittance into a land they deemed free. And today there’s a parallel. There’s a parallel, yes, but it’s important to also realize that in that parallel the United States of “back then” would have to have been bombing Anne Frank’s house as well.
For the refugee fleeing hell today has to be wondering where all this humanitarian outrage was as she watched your country bomb her brothers, her mother, her friends. As she watches.
Imagine fleeing into the arms of the person who murders people you know and love dearly for a better life. Imagine having to plead over and over again for them to open their arms.
Imagine you having the luxury to not talk politics.
Each letter of W5H that you fully control doubles your income and happiness.
Someone making $40,000 a year who always works on whatever they want, with whomever they want, wherever, whenever, whyever, and however they want multiplies their income by twelve – they’re really living the life of someone who makes $480,000.
It’s that simple. Practicality over everything. Stop focusing on how much money you make or on how you absolutely love what you do, it’s about how many letters you’ve got locked down.
To Whoever’s Running in 2020,
Obama ran his campaign on salvation as hope for the future. And Trump ran his campaign on salvation as reclamation of the past.
Bernie told us the truth. That he’s us, only another small being in a vast and corrupt world and that the only person that can save us is ourselves. We don’t want to hear that, we want to be saved. Hillary never offered salvation of any kind. In a way, she was pretty truthful in that, her silence telling us there’s no salvation to be had in putting our lives in one person’s hands. We really don’t want to hear that.
So, if you really want to be President, whoever you are, tell us you’re going to save us. You don’t have to mean it, just dress the part of the messiah.
Yours truly, #America
I hate fame. I hate it because it’s an empty currency. I hate it because a system that deals in empty currencies leads to empty men.
People keep thinking we’re past our neanderthal days of judging men solely on their success and women solely on their beauty, but we’re not – in almost all fields men will always be judged on their accomplishments and women on their beauty first and foremost, everything else is secondary. Just look around, the numbers never lie.
Even in industries solely consisting of female audiences like relationship advice and sexology women will still listen to an accomplished man of average intelligence over an ugly woman at the pinnacle of genius. The words coming out of their mouths are always secondary, just look around.
And if the ability to provide food (success) and the ability to provide children (beauty) are still our species’ golden currency, fame is the paper dollar. It’s the currency not of gold, but the idea of it.
If you’re a famous woman you can walk into a company and tell them that you’re not actually willing to do anything of worth, but you will sell them your image of beauty. And if you’re a famous man you can sell them your image of success. For an exuberant price.
That’s insane! But a man named Donald Trump saw great opportunity in the madness and became the most qualified man in the field of the empty currency. Fame became Continue Reading →
People aren’t actually obsessed with their phones. If they were they’d get one without putting most of their attention on how good the camera is. A phone’ll cost you $99 tops, a camera $300+, what are you carrying?
When you pull it out at concerts and car crashes to snap a couple, when you meet your idols and your first thought is to ask for a pic, when you’re in presence of good food and great views and your first thought is to capture rather than to breathe fumes, and when you can’t go anywhere without it, you’ve got to realize that your phone doesn’t take pictures, your camera sometimes makes calls.
Everyone’s a photographer – that photographer, subconsciously aware that something actually interesting happening in their life is a rarity, that can only be captured only if they’re always prepared, only.
And so we carry these cameras that make calls, text-gossip to pass the time Continue Reading →
This has been a weird sort of two weeks for me.
Brexit made me feel angry and powerless to help my friends of African and Indian origin who were facing unjust persecution in a land they loved, and then Alton Sterling and Philando Castile were murdered in the land of the free so I found a small release for my powerlessness – I could donate to their families, throw money at them and feel… less impotent.
Then I realized, wow, I’m a piece of shit; here’s this amazing device for intercontinental connection and voice, and all I’m using it for is as speedy means of deriving some sort of self-satisfaction from helping the needy, wow. There loomed above me this heavy rain of a question about myself that was hard to weather.
In the meantime, I ended up being front and center as Continue Reading →
All of my UK friends of African or Indian descent have expressed to me how the racism they’ve faced in the past couple days amounts to a couple years’ worth. They’ve been verbally abused, told to go home, spit on, &c.. All of them.
People hate being told how racism is still alive in such “progressive” times, but are lost for words when things such as Brexit unfold and suddenly there’s an uptick in racism. “My word, where did all these racists come from?” the lady next door exclaims, shocked. They were always here ma’am, you don’t notice them because they don’t target you.
(I mean, I’ve lived in Texas and Georgia Continue Reading →