Shut It Down

It's time to stop participating in this awful system and bring it to its knees

The old, wretched status quo is thrashing violently as it dies.

It’s time we grab a pillow and suffocate it to death.

Minneapolis is suffering one wave after another of brutal attacks. Children kidnapped. People beaten. Two murders that we have now witnessed with our own eyes. On Friday the city came together for a general boycott and was joined by others around the country. This was a good start. But it’s time to stop this madness.

I’m tired of talking about Midterms and elections we don’t even know will happen or, if they do, if they’ll be free and fair.

I’m tired of people quoting Democratic leaders and asking why they’re not meeting the moment when it is clear they are complicit.

I’m tired of joining others in hoping and praying that someone will die and maybe lessen the pain and fear and threat of the moment, all while knowing this problem goes much, much further than one man and will likely continue after he is rotting in the ground.

I’m tired of continuing to live day-by-day as I know the noose of authoritarian state power is being perfected and tightened.

We are losing the window of action and, for that reason, I am calling for collective action that goes far beyond a one-day economic boycott.

It is time to bring this motherfucking machine to its motherfucking knees.

We need to stop purchasing. We need to stop working.

We need to just stop until this stops and until this fucked system breathes its last acrid breath and fucking dies.

This is intolerable and we know this. We cannot live like this any longer, hoping that maybe we won’t get murdered, hoping that our friends and neighbors and loved ones won’t be attacked, hoping our children’s schools won’t be invaded, the halls flooded with tear gas, terrorized by masked fascists. It will not stop with Minneapolis and it will not stop with Donald Trump unless we make it stop.

I have worked for years now trying to organize groups into coalitions in hopes that we could create an organized movement that could prevent what we are now seeing. As it emerged, I hoped that it would build on itself in an organized manner. I tell you now, with the heaviest of hearts, that that effort has failed to this point. There are plenty of reasons, including vested interests, timidity, and constant attacks by the wealth class.

If you are waiting for a labor union to come to the forefront and lead, I tell you now, that is not likely in the moment. If you are waiting on a political leader to take the reins and organize us, I tell you now, that is not likely in the moment. If you are waiting on something to spontaneously materialize, I tell you now, that is not likely in the moment.

No one is coming to save us. We must save ourselves.

I am writing this as a means to try and start a rolling conversation. This can end. And we can have something better on the other side. It will not be easy. In fact, it will be very, very hard. But it is possible.

We have been placed into a world where collective action is difficult and that was not an accident. We are isolated from one another, we are sated by the catharsis of posting and buying products that express our desires rather than facilitating them. We are all incredibly exploited and motivated by extreme precarity, meaning we are terrified to take any action that could keep us from getting paid. This wasn’t an accident. It was intentional.

I am not asking for something easy. I am asking for something incredibly difficult.

We must stop our participation.

It feels impossible. We are fed narratives by political parties and their wealth class benefactors that nothing can change, that we are powerless. At this point, Trump and the fascists have instilled in our heads their messaged filtered through our voice. It tells us to close the window, lock the door, and just hope the fascists don’t come for us. Clock in and clock out. Keep your head down. It builds off a lifetime of traumatic exploitation in capitalism and all the corresponding pains and disappointments. We are told to believe that nothing can happen and nothing can improve.

If we stop, if we effectively put together the largest wildcat strike in history, we will win and this will stop. The Neoliberal capitalist system is dying and is struggling to give birth to the open authoritarian capitalist system. It is vulnerable now. Incredibly vulnerable. It will not always be this vulnerable and we have a chance to end this and make something new.

The paradigm shifts quickly and so I say this: do not accept scraps.

If we stop participating and revoke our consent, we would see something minor like ICE leaving Minneapolis. To that we must say, more.

If we hold firm, we would see something like soft, performative reform or even an offer to abolish ICE altogether. To that we must say, more.

If we continue, Democratic leaders would see an opportunity, like they have before, and attempt to latch their decaying, quisling carcasses to us. To that that we must say, damn you for your failures and your betrayals. Stay far, far away from us.

If we press the issue, corporations would quickly market to us, peddling products and entertainments that promise us the experience of the world changing stripped of the hard and dangerous work. To that we must say, never again.

If we weather inevitable violence, predictable attempts to undermine us, all the efforts to talk us down or to sever our solidarity, perhaps we would even see Trump offered to us on a platter. To that we must say, a start, but far from enough.

This will not be simple. Yes, people will have their utilities shut off and we will need to lock arms, fight our way to the companies and say, No, we don’t do this anymore. Many will be fired and we will need to beat down the doors of bosses to let them know it will not be tolerated. Banks and police will show up to evict our neighbors and our friends and, like those surrounding ICE agents, like those during the Great Depression who recognized right from wrong, we will not let it happen.

It will take solidarity and human connection that now feels impossible and extinct. Even now, writing this, I feel the doubt. I am exhausted and frightened and demoralized and grieving and I am attempting to keep the flickering flame alive. This is a desperate scream from a desperate man, a vocalization of what I know needs to happen even as I sit here struggling with my own frozen state. I want to move. I want you to move.

We know this has to happen.

We know this must happen.

We know, somewhere deep within us, that we must kill this system lest it deliver us to the next, which is intolerable.

We can choose what comes next. We must choose what comes next.