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  • Back to index of Communism and Capitalism are the Same Thing: A Story
  • Communism and Capitalism are the Same Thing: A Story

    The Philosopher Between the Capitalist and the Communist

    Chapter 35 : Free Yourself

    By Punkerslut

    Image by Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC License
    Image: By Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC License

    Start Date: February 18, 2014
    Finish Date: October 21, 2014

         There was a pirate ship that left the South of Athens and a smuggler ship that left the West of Babylon. Each carried their cargoes, their crews, and their captains, along with their risks and fears, but along with all of being transported, there were also rebels. From the Greek Empire, there departed the Anarcho-Communist rebels, and from the Babylonian Empire, there departed the Anarcho-Capitalist rebels. These weren't the same people they were when they lived back in Anarchia under the order of Anarchy. They were much more cynical and hopeless, much more disillusioned and skeptical, and much more angry at themselves than they were with the world around them. Defeated armies, not retreating from a horrible battle, but being saved by a man who was known only for the trade that he practiced, the Philosopher. But the Philosopher himself was not on these vessels. His dream had brought him from their points of departure to somewhere new and different, somewhere deep in the darkness of the ruins of the former Anarchist city.

         You might be able to picture yourself among the stars, dashing in between the cosmic beams of light and energy, dancing on the tops of planets and moons, answerable only to your own conscience and mind, limited only by what you can think up and imagine. You might think that the darkness of those immense, black skies wasn't meant detract you from creating your own thoughts, that it was actually a quiet invitation by nature to join and participate in what happens around you. But to really have a clear view of what it would be like, to have an avid imagination that actually focuses on the truth and reality, whenever you would picture the Philosopher, you would have to picture black smoke slowly embering out of the green substance packed into the bowl of a pipe. You would have to picture this old, hooded, sandal-wearing, drug-smoking man, just as your mind's eye penetrated through those tree tops and tall branches. The most wanted man in all of the Greek and Babylonian Empires, and not a thing in his mind could stop him from breaking the law, just as if you had been curious enough to understand the depth of your own footprints, you would understand that the wind blowing it away isn't dispersing your efforts but is accepting them. And from those tremendous heights up in the sky, it would still be easy to stop believing in effort.

    Image by Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC License
    Image: By Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC License

         Emma and Benjamin were rescued, the humble transport of pirates and smugglers, but where was the Philosopher? Where was he going, if he still believed that Communism and Capitalism are the same thing? Why was he going there, if he knew that time and space alone might outweigh the significance of his activity? Why was the Philosopher's destiny so far into the North-West of the land, when the Anarchists' destiny was so far into the South-East of the sea? When would he realize that his constant chasing and endless ambling was leaving behind a circular pattern on the globe, when others clearly knew that the imprints they left from their movements went in straight patterns across the planet? Who was there still left behind that deserved the struggle of this one old man against the endless anguish of nature's elements? There was still Pan and Roz, the two last dissidents still alive, the first two dissidents ever to be born.

         "Communism and Capitalism are still the same thing," the Philosopher said to himself, "Not a thing about them has changed. The people changed, but not their ideas. The people aged, matured, grew up, gave up hope, became listless, suffered from Depression, revolted with agitation, and escaped from their tortured miseries, but their ideas -- they're still the same exact ideas that they always have been. They didn't age, they didn't grow, they didn't get experience, they didn't learn -- they didn't change. Your feelings changed a million times, but your thoughts only once. Communism and Capitalism are the same thing, but I don't know if Communists and Capitalists are the same thing anymore, at least after this and what has happened, at least after the fall of Anarchia. These Communists and Capitalists are as different from their original selves as the butterfly is different from the husk and caterpillar. The terms that defined their meaning and purpose have come and gone, but while the butterflies soar and glide, the people are dragged down by the weight and power of their own ideas, like the one butterfly that couldn't depart from its branch, because it tried to carry its husk with it."

    Image by Eric Vernier, CC BY-SA License
    Image: By Eric Vernier, CC BY-SA License

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