Earlier this month I posted on the frustration of certain members of Occupy Raleigh. It seemed that the “1%” of the movement was beginning to get fed up with the “99%.”
To those of you who continue to complain, and whine, and bitch, and moan about the camp – just fucking stop. We are all tired of hearing it. If you have a problem at the camp, come fix it. I can not fix everything myself. Jes can not fix everything herself. Thomas can not fix everything by himself. Nor can Charles, Susie, or any of the other people who do put an effort in.
In some ways this Occupy movement is a useful lesson to those involved. It’s perhaps their first involvement in running an organization. In generating consensus, in knowing when consensus is a paralyzing goal. For the first time in life these folks might be managing people. However, for some of the citizens of this society, enough simply became enough.
They “Gone Galt.”
The burden of producing while the rest of society just took advantage of that productivity simply became to heavy. Restrictions placed on the “do’ers” prevented them from doing and all it resulted in was the “looters” taking advantage of the will, the determination and dedication of the productive members of the society.
In the end, the only logical choice is to leave that degenerative society and strike out on your own:
I took my tent down today. I was going to pay the $766.25 for the insurance for the triangle. At our Occupation Nation GA we talked about why that was a good idea. I have since changed my mind. Here’s why:
You just HAVE to read this. This guy is spot on. There are producers and there are looters. There are people in society who DO. There are people in society who, worse than do nothing, live off the productive energy of those that DO. And continue to do.
I get the feeling that this individual would be content to labor for his cause and trade that labor with others who labor equally as hard but in a different manner.
Today I got to the camp. The storage tent was laying in a broken pile in the middle of the parking lot. I guess whoever put it there felt that was an appropriate place for it. I stared at it for a few minutes, trying to figure out why they thought that was a good reason. I came up with nothing. I walked to my tent. To get there, I had to climb over the wood pile that has been spilling into the pathways, which also currently has laundry on top of it. I walked over many pieces of trash to get to my tent. After I put my backpack inside, I walked over more garbage and poked my head into the Human Needs tent. It looked like a tornado hit. A lockbox was broken into. The storage tent was obviously missing. The new tent that Susie bought for the camp was missing. The kitchen was a disaster. There were piles of broken and scrap wood all over the camp site. The dish area was destroyed. The tarp that was covering it up (as required by the land owner) was not there anymore. The library, as usual, was trashed. The graffiti on the sidewalk, which the people responsible said they’d remove, was still there. There was a coffee can with piss in it in another walkway. Multiple tents had partly collapsed and nobody had bothered to put them back up. The majority of the people who say they help the camp, in fact, do not help the camp. Very few people help out without being asked. (Thank you Jes, Stephanie, Charles, John, Thomas, Angela, Nick, and Vincent. You have been a massive force at the camp.)
Around the fire.
I have had enough. I have advocated for the camp harder than almost anybody. I have pushed to keep it. I have paid large portions of the rent. I have donated over $1000 of supplies to the camp. I have set up a large portion of the on site infrastructure. I have personally donated almost half the books. I built the floors for both the kitchen and library. I have, everyday, reorganized the messes that people have left all over. Clearly my donations, my effort, and my time have not gone appreciated. I will donate to better causes. I will use my money for real action, real change.
He’s saying that he produces. And he expects other people to produce. He’s willing to trade money, books and carpentry for, perhaps, a clean-up crew, security detail, perhaps some educational seminars. Something. I get the feeling ANYthing would do.
But instead he got nothing. And no one labors for nothing.
So he picked up his productivity and left.
He moved to Galt’s Gulch where he will labor with other like minded individuals leaving the looters and the moochers to their own miserable selves.
Here’s to ya brother! You are speakin’ my language!