Sir_No_Sir
14th February 2007, 22:18
So here it is, I had to write on essay on love, we're reading Romeo and Juliet, just wondering what you guys think. I "borrowed" a few quotes i saw on autonome.org, and changed em around a little, and there are a few grammatical and mechanical errors..here it is:
Most people love something, someone, someplace, anything tangible that you can photograph, touch, visit, or just hug. I am not most. I take the ultimate solace in an ideal-most call it an ideology or a worldview, but for me, it has become a way of thinking, a way of life. Maybe it is a different type of love, but it is still a love, a real passion. Her name is Socialism, and I love Her. Socialism is only really represented by a few people on Earth and a few scattered organizations, but the very core of it rests itself in the bedrock of many people’s values. There has been much ado over Socialism and how She is represented-She has been called racist, lazy, stupid, wrong, and even Anti-American. For example, Hugo Chavez of Venezuela, or Che Guevara have both been criticized by both sides of the American political “spectrum”.
Well then, what is the Socialist life? A person who lives a Socialist life may or may not be rich, poor, black, white, male, or female. The socialist life manifests itself in the now withering hope that a person can have sway, no, total control their life. I say now withering only because with the rising authoritarianism in Europe and America, and even in a large number of third-world countries. And, somehow, this seems acceptable to most. A “capitalist life” reduces people, people with hopes, dreams, likes, dislikes, loves and ideas into mere objects. It transforms us into these objects that are designed specifically for the purpose of pumping money into the world. A Socialist life is against this. A socialist life asks to be treated just as well as the richest CEO and the poorest drug dealer, or homeless guy, and will not take no for an answer. Socialism does not always advocate a violent revolution, per se, but always demands a societal and person revolution. In the face of greed, Socialism shows that people have a greater want for communal love. In the pits of constant warring, Socialism offers us a ladder of peace, with rungs of justice. In a stare down of despair, Socialism gives us a glimpse of hope. This hope is that one, maybe a distant, probably a very distant day off, a person will have a choice of what to do in life, of what to make of themselves, and people will respect that choice, no matter their personal opinions. She questions, yet she trusts. Socialism ravishes a vicious war inside of us, and shakes the foundations of our very lives to the core, yet, She wages a beautiful peace, and confirms our basic values, hopes, and beliefs. This is, indeed, the only war that brings you back to life-and 6 billion volunteers are needed. We built this world through hard work, sacrifice, and a love of the human race, and in recent times, it was pulled from under us. Now, we ask for it back. And we will not take no for an answer. Socialism questions. After every story, every book read, every sentence, word, letter uttered, She questions it. For too long, we have stood by, as we are played like puppets on a stage. Now, the tables are turned. We can be our own puppeteers, the world can be our stage, and we will show the audience the best show they will ever see. We love the world, and everyone else does too, but the Socialist calls on us to express that love, that longing for a better future, maybe not for us, but for our grand-children-for our neighbor’s grandchildren, and for the people half-way around the world, for their grand-children. I love the world. A love of Socialism is a love of the world. I love Her.
Most people love something, someone, someplace, anything tangible that you can photograph, touch, visit, or just hug. I am not most. I take the ultimate solace in an ideal-most call it an ideology or a worldview, but for me, it has become a way of thinking, a way of life. Maybe it is a different type of love, but it is still a love, a real passion. Her name is Socialism, and I love Her. Socialism is only really represented by a few people on Earth and a few scattered organizations, but the very core of it rests itself in the bedrock of many people’s values. There has been much ado over Socialism and how She is represented-She has been called racist, lazy, stupid, wrong, and even Anti-American. For example, Hugo Chavez of Venezuela, or Che Guevara have both been criticized by both sides of the American political “spectrum”.
Well then, what is the Socialist life? A person who lives a Socialist life may or may not be rich, poor, black, white, male, or female. The socialist life manifests itself in the now withering hope that a person can have sway, no, total control their life. I say now withering only because with the rising authoritarianism in Europe and America, and even in a large number of third-world countries. And, somehow, this seems acceptable to most. A “capitalist life” reduces people, people with hopes, dreams, likes, dislikes, loves and ideas into mere objects. It transforms us into these objects that are designed specifically for the purpose of pumping money into the world. A Socialist life is against this. A socialist life asks to be treated just as well as the richest CEO and the poorest drug dealer, or homeless guy, and will not take no for an answer. Socialism does not always advocate a violent revolution, per se, but always demands a societal and person revolution. In the face of greed, Socialism shows that people have a greater want for communal love. In the pits of constant warring, Socialism offers us a ladder of peace, with rungs of justice. In a stare down of despair, Socialism gives us a glimpse of hope. This hope is that one, maybe a distant, probably a very distant day off, a person will have a choice of what to do in life, of what to make of themselves, and people will respect that choice, no matter their personal opinions. She questions, yet she trusts. Socialism ravishes a vicious war inside of us, and shakes the foundations of our very lives to the core, yet, She wages a beautiful peace, and confirms our basic values, hopes, and beliefs. This is, indeed, the only war that brings you back to life-and 6 billion volunteers are needed. We built this world through hard work, sacrifice, and a love of the human race, and in recent times, it was pulled from under us. Now, we ask for it back. And we will not take no for an answer. Socialism questions. After every story, every book read, every sentence, word, letter uttered, She questions it. For too long, we have stood by, as we are played like puppets on a stage. Now, the tables are turned. We can be our own puppeteers, the world can be our stage, and we will show the audience the best show they will ever see. We love the world, and everyone else does too, but the Socialist calls on us to express that love, that longing for a better future, maybe not for us, but for our grand-children-for our neighbor’s grandchildren, and for the people half-way around the world, for their grand-children. I love the world. A love of Socialism is a love of the world. I love Her.