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  • Back to index of Communism and Capitalism are the Same Thing: A Story
  • Communism and Capitalism are the Same Thing: A Story

    The Philosopher Between the Capitalist and the Communist

    Chapter 22 : New Creatures at the Gates

    By Punkerslut

    Image by Juan & Diego, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 License
    Image: By Juan & Diego, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 License

    Start Date: February 18, 2014
    Finish Date: October 21, 2014

         There was a path from Athens to Anarchia, just like there was one from Babylon to Anarchia. The type of people you might find on these two paths held extremely different values in terms of opinion on morals, religion, politics, and economics. But the closer and closer you came within the borders of Anarchia, the less and less did these differences matter at all. At the beginning of the route from Athens or Babylon might be both similar in the importance they attach to their values, and at the end, the importance had diminished to an almost personal sentimentality. The differences between Communism and Capitalism didn't cease at the borders of Anarchy. They simply became less important in the overall life of the individual. At the beginning of the trail, you could only find Communists and Capitalists, and those who believe greatly in it to those who believed even more greatly in it. And at the end of the trail, you could find every type of person, who believed in every type of thing, but nobody tried to force others into believing it. This applied to deeply personal issues like family and religion to community issues like economic and social organization.

         Spargo walked his own path, Agent 354 walked her own path, but when they looked up to center their balance and check their coordinates, they were both heading toward the same destination. He carried the habits of urban life, she carried the ways of rural people -- his body was accustomed to eight hours of work a day, her body was accustomed to somewhere between one hour and sixteen hours of work a day. His hands were calloused from working with tools, her feet were calloused from walking bare-foot for miles and miles. The journey itself was such a lonesome venture for Spargo, who had always been used to being near many of his comrades, but for Agent 354, the journey was like taking the long way home. She loved the smell of flowers and dirt and sweetness in the air, but he was either alienated or nauseated by it. She adored the chance to sleep out naked in the wilderness of high grasses and tall trees, but he could only think about the last time he was in Athens and had organized a massive rally focused on advancing Communism. Her dreams were full of vast, open areas, his were full of the clustered, cramped cities.

    Image by Margaret Killjoy, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 License
    Image: By Margaret Killjoy, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 License

         But not every advantage was to Agent 354. When she had been bitten by a wild insect, she chanted a prayer and performed a ritual, to rid her body of the "evil spirits." Experiencing the same situation on his journey, Spargo merely cleaned the wound and applied antiseptics. She looked to the clouds to receive signs from god in which direction she should travel, he looked to them to determine the weather and the direction of the wind. His journey was prepared with bread-like crackers that could stand high temperatures without melting or going bad, along with jarred fruits and vegetables. Her journey was prepared with a leg of some butchered animal, heavily salted and deeply smoked to keep it from rotting, causing stomach problems by the second week of her journey, along with one package of refined sugar and one package of incense. When the buckle on his sandal snapped, he simply replaced it with an identical one from his backpack. When a buckle on her backpack snapped, she went through cutting, drying, bending, and crafting wood to make the backpack carryable again, but at a great cost in time and comfort.

         The Capitalist spy and the Communist spy were both going to Anarchia, but their miseries were as far apart from each other as their hopes. All that was about to change. The Anarchist City was about to have its most unusual characters ever, two Statists who were deeply holding their belief in the State close to their hearts and far from their lips. Honor and dignity in the name of either Hammurabi or Solon wasn't the topic of their conversation, and even the way they walked seemed to have changed, with Spargo thinking "it is best if I approach people slowly, so they don't think I'm trying to aggravate them," and with Agent 354 thinking "I should be careful not to have too good a posture, otherwise they will accuse me of being authoritarian and oppressing them." And no point in their travels did Spargo or Agent 354 look down in their feet and think to themselves, "This is the trail that Pan followed," ~ "This is the path that Roz chose."

    Image by Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC 2.0 License
    Image: By Glenn Halog, CC BY-NC 2.0 License

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