Get yourself online, start a communist site, post a shit-ton, hate the cops, listen to power noise, die.
In the mid 90’s as a teenager, I lived in a subdivision of Brunswick, a city sprung wholecloth out of pristine Ohio woodland. Three decades before I lived there, the sleepy little town still had some gravel roads. Brunswick, a name picked randomly during its christening in 1815, is entropy
The gig economy is trash because it’s designed to be: a way to fully and finally fuck us all.
The myth of the “self-made” billionaire is a toxic and destructive lie that threatens to keep people in the dark about who really creates wealth.
There is nothing more exhausting for me that the continual, pointless relitigation of the 2016 Democratic Primary. It just goes on and on and nothing new or interesting or valuable comes of it. Not even the posts are good, it’s the same set of arguments: donut libs think Sanders spoiled
Carcel Clothing openly advertises it uses prison labor in its luxury clothes. We take a look at why this doesn’t help anyone.
Daddy Starbucks is here to tell us all how to play nice with sociopaths like him.
In the intervening decade since the financial crisis a growing chorus of the upper classes’ more savvy members have come to understand just how thin the blue line between the wealthy and the rest of the world really is.
Neoliberal woke capitalism is still, uh, capitalism. Gillette’s cynical marketing campaign is trying to profit off real #MeToo activism.