If they step on me, I should step on you. If they do step on me, then I must deserve being stepped on for something I've done, or for some reason of their greater being justifying their abuse of me, or because it's the way of the world. Power itself justifies its use and its abuse. If you have it you use it, or you get stepped on.
But that's not how things should be. There shouldn't be power relations in the world, and if only people were under the control of benign rulers then there wouldn't be those evil power relationships. Something must be done to make the world better, more peaceful, more equitable. And someone has to pay! Someone has to suffer. Someone has to feel my pain. The rich, the Americans, the globalists, the Zionists. They are the ones causing all the problems of what would otherwise be a perfect world. The world was perfect before THEY came along. All the native peoples lived in harmony with Mother Nature before the Industrial Revolution, before the Americans came and wiped out the indigenous peoples, before the French freed the Jews from the ghettos, before Western people became too well-off from slavery and exploitation of the rest of the world. Life was Edenic back then. It should be so now, and would be, if only we had rulers who are benign, who organize things for us in our communities, who help us get in touch with our feelings, get us back to Nature, and allow us to live again authentically and organically. Things shouldn't be this way! Things should be as they were in the Golden Age before the rise of the White Man. The system is stepping on The People. We should resist. And we should step on those we can to pay them back,to show that we are in solidarity with and identify with the poor of the world, victims of the capitalist conspiracy. They step on us, we step on those we can. Do it for The People. Make things right again.
Those who have wealth are obviously sinners who have what they have from the labours and lives of others. They STEAL what they have. They should have nothing more than what the average peasant has in the world of want. Property is theft. Step on the thieves. Be a righteous povertarian. Be like Gandhi, be like Mother Theresa. Be poor, and step on those who aren't. They deserve it.
There are some who are great moral leaders, and they do need more than the rest of us because they are the geniuses of our Age. Our Dear Leaders know how things were and how they should be and can be again. They have high places from which they see high visions. They tell great mystic truths. Yes, they step on us, and we can step on others, the Jews, the rich, the Americans, the globalists, the polluters, the baby seal hunters....
Recently at JR's http://downtowneastsideenquirer.blogspot.com/ a commentator from the aether wrote in to complain that the Carnegie Centre in Vancouver, Canada does not have "supervisors," being those great leaders, being those with "higher vision." No, those in supervisory roles at inflated union wages are termed something else: facilitators, perambulators, alligators -- anything but supervisors. Those in supervisory roles don't call themselves such but they do bounce the locals from the centre for seemingly arbitrary reasons, like for blogging about the sexual misconducts of some of the staff, as an example. They who are not supervisors do have the effective power they refuse to name. Instead, they step onto what Stephen Pinker calls the "euphemism treadmill." Co-ordinators. In effect, the supervisors of the Carnegie Centre are povertarian minders, and those below them are in effect, farm animals to be herded, tended, and minded. A problem with Orwell's Animal Farm is that he allegorizes a story that is in reality literal: that in the neo-feudalist world of socialism, people are literally made into farm animals as they were in the Middle Ages, part, parcel, and property of the owners and rulers of the turf. Now, wrapped in velvet, the minders are there to care for, to share with, to feel the pain of those they mind. Socialism. Community. Children of the world in a common Brotherhood of Man. And the minders ensure that all play the game as good children must or "the poor" risk losing their $0.80 cent per hour food stamps, risk going to bed without dinner. No, not supervisors. Povertarians. Farm animals. Sadist and masochists.
There is a world-wide game afoot of Sadists and Masochists. It's a power game. The field is crowded. The game is between the Revolutionaries of Modernity and the Povertarians of neo-feudalism, between the ordinary working people of the world and the Left fascist dhimmis and their primitive proxy minions. This is a game played out between people who work in offices and those who blow them up with aeroplanes. It's not a game played between the rich and the poor, it's a game played between the socially independent and the masochistic collectivists ruled by Socialist sadists. The Carnegie Centre is the Sado-Masochist povertarian game in microcosm.
Let's look at another example from literature to the ways of Left sado-masochism, a portrayal pertinent to the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver, Canada:
"You're like a dog that's been kicked out of the house. You live off scraps in the woods for a while and you think you can run with wolves. But really, in the back of your mind, what you want to do is bring down one wolf so they'll let you back into the house."
Martin Cruz Smith, Polar Star. Ballantine Books: New York; 1989, p. 270.
Povetarianism. It's a power game: they step on me, I step on you. They humiliate me, I humiliate you. I feel like shit, I make you feel worse. You are worthless, and I am better in my mind than you -- but not as worthy as those above me. To show those above me that I am better than those below me I will prove my value to them by pleasing them by doing to those below what those above me do to me: I will, like a dog, bring you a dead rat to impress you with my fealty. If only I could I'd bring you a wolf.
There is a pathetic kind of person, the masochist, who curries favor from those he considers his social superiors, and that kind of person is one we refer to as a dhimmi, the word coming from Islam, meaning one subject to the conditions of The Pact of Omar. A dhimmi is a "protected person," according to Islam, who is a "monotheist non-Muslim," who, rather than be killed and thereby foregoing his goods and chattels, buys his life from the Muslim world by paying jizyah. Jizyah is the tax Muslims take from the now-dhimmi rather than killing the dhimmi and taking what the Muslim conquerer otherwise could. The conditions of dhimmitude come from the Pact, and instead of leading to the supposed Golden Age of Al Andalusia, as too many romantic sentimentalists would have us uncritically believe, the Pact of Omar creates conditions of humiliating and brutal slavery for the dhimmi in a Muslim world. Dhimmitude is sado-masochism in the world of Islam. Dhimmis in the West are volunteers, masochists in a game of power they hope to have higher place in than the place they have now in the Modernity of the West. Most Dhimmis today are left-over Leftists, Left dhimmis, and the Left, what's left of it, is conflated in a frenzy of reaction to the point there is only a conflation of Left with fascistic Right reaction. We refer to the Left dhimmi as a fascist: Left dhimmi fascist, a grovelling masochistic dhimmi allied to primitive masters he loathes and loves. Step on you.
Another case of dhimmitude in practice to see clearly from our arts and letters, let's look at Martin Scorsese's film Taxi Driver.
Professional loser, Travis Bickle wants to date a high-class blond working for a presidential candidate. He can't seem to bridge the gulf between himself and her; thus, to gain her recognition, he intends to kill the candidate she works for. When the taxi driver fails at that, he turns to the rescue of a child prostitute, killing a slew of street thugs and Mafiosos. He is a masochistic taxi driver trying to please a sadistic mistress who doesn't care. he wants recognition, and he doesn't care how he gets it. Taxi Driver. Step on it. Step on anyone at all.
He's mad, he's bad, he's sad:
And now the question is, "Is he talkin' to you! Huh, is he talkin' to YOU?'
Well, watch out for him. He's coming SOON to a neighborhood near you.
The taxi driver, stepped upon by those above him, he steps on those below. The masochist becomes when he can the sadist, and all for the best and most noble purposes: To curry favor with his social superiors, to be a good dhimmi.
The life of Man is oft times extremely weird. As a personal aside, perhaps relevant here, my wife and I many years ago ventured into a beer-hall in Munich where we sat amidst a throng of old Germans, fringes of white wispy hair, flabby arms hoisting steins, all having a good time to the music from a family on stage, daughter doing vocals, a lady in her 50s, wearing a sequined spandex jumpsuit; her mother, a nice lady no doubt, in her 70s, on electric organ; and father, a non-descript gent on electric bass; the three of them pouring into the beer hall air a rousing version of an old Elvis tune, the crowd loving it. There, with greater German gusto, was daughter, shaking, rattling, and rolling, singing in near-baritones:
Schtep on my!
Blue svate shoo-s!"
And the crowd, clapping, stamping their high-booted feet in precise unison, chanted:
"Schtep on zem, ja! Schtep on zem!"
Step on me, step on you. Those in the Modern world usually look at the game of Left fascist dhimmitude, of Left sado-masochism, and think: "I'm schtepping out."
There's more to come in this look at Left fascist dhimmitude and the povertarian quest for restoration of the Golden Age of pre-capitalist Eden when we come back next time.