There are no easy fights in the struggle against the Empire
You fight them because what the hell else are you going to do? Even if the treads of the machine are going to roll over us all in the end, at least you’ll go down knowing you left it all in the ring.
Listen to a reading of this article (reading by Tim Foley):
There are no easy fights in the struggle against the empire. Lots of losses and no clean wins.
You spend years protesting the genocide in Gaza, and you get a fake, shitty “ceasefire” deal that’s just designed to shut you up while Israel continues creating hell for the Palestinians and carving off more pieces of their territory.
Humanity manages to avoid nuclear conflict at the most dangerous points of the Ukraine war, but the country continues getting torn apart for years in an idiotic bloodbath that could have been easily avoided with a little diplomacy and common sense.
Assange gets free, but only after he agrees to plead guilty to doing journalism, and only after years of cruel treatment have made an example of him for all the world to see.
Public trust in the mainstream media finally gets obliterated, only for the imperial perception managers to come up with Silicon Valley algorithm manipulation and plutocrat-owned AI chatbots to retain control of the narrative.
The capitalists get everything they want, and succeed in advancing any ecocidal, dystopian agenda of their choosing so long as it generates profits or bolsters the imperial power structure.
Republicans win and they still act like underdog victims. Democrats win and they act like Republicans. Meanwhile any real political opposition which starts getting its legs underneath it gets stomped into the dirt in its infancy.
Your heroes let you down. Your allies die. The geopolitical developments you hope to see never quite pan out. Whenever there’s a moment of relative calm the dissident factions get restless and start cannibalizing themselves with counterproductive infighting and lateral-punching.
And the treads of the imperial juggernaut keep rolling forward.
Some days it makes you feel like a crippled child throwing a rock at a tank.
There are no easy fights. No wins by first-round knockout. At best it’s a grinding slog from bell to bell where you’re spitting out blood between rounds and sucking wind through your gum shield with broken ribs and a busted nose.
But you fight on anyway.
Not because you enjoy it. Not because you’re good at it. Not because you feel like you’re going to win. You keep biting down on your mouthguard and throwing hands for no other reason than because that’s all you can do.
These freaks are killing our planet. They’re committing genocide. They’re waving armageddon weapons around like cocks and playing chicken with the lives of every terrestrial organism. They’re driving us further and further into a tyrannical mind-controlled dystopia while doing everything they can to choke off our artistic brilliance and poison all the best things about our species.
You fight them because what the hell else are you going to do? Even if the treads of the machine are going to roll over us all in the end, at least you’ll go down knowing you left it all in the ring.
So you fight on. You give it everything you’ve got, even when it feels like you’re throwing haymakers at a mountain. You eat some leather, you spit out a tooth, and you return fire.
Because there’s nothing else you can do.
And there’s nothing that matters more.
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