Plantationization

I live on a plantation. One of the largest plantations still in operation. I never realized that I was on a plantation until about a decade or so ago. Up until then, I thought I lived a normal existence. It was a nice working class and lower-middle class community. There were also families on public assistance. It wasn’t perfect; it had its share of thugs, hoodlums, and players. The plantation community maintained a balance between all facets of life. This gave us a false sense of respectfulness, security and stability.  My early years were spent on the plantation until my mother . . .

An alien explains the different forms of alienation using a marxist analysis

Alienation and Our Circumstances

This morning I’m calling on any softness in the verb “deserve.” I believe public discussion of the feeling’s often hijacked, then weaponized in this country by influential racists, uterus-haters or capitalists. Most of us are just workers, customers unintentionally feeding the babies we were screwed for too much arsenic— power is always a key distinction.  Stuck in my tenacious twenties, I’ve been making sales at a smoke shop for close to a year and a half now. At the seven-ish month mark of my time at Hookah Hookup, a sweet, white, 1996-born millennial was hired to sell for the company . . .