As for the market’s tyranny, it is not all bad. After all, capital itself remains optimistic as it expands into the future: it sees the bounty of the wide universe as inexhaustible. Likewise its profits. And it might be right. It may be blind to everything except its own growth, and this may be what really enables its optimism, but that does not matter because it continues to grow steadily, consuming whatever resources it needs to do so, leaving infrastructure with corporate logos behind in its ever-broadening wake.
So be it. We all know how naive it is to fight progress. Right?
I suppose that’s not what I’m recommending, anyway. Although, I do wonder what would facilitate the continuation of our species’ motion—forward into the future, and outward into the inexhaustible universe—if not capital. Is our species like a shark, do you think, which needs always swim forward just to breathe? Or maybe it has become that way only in the capitalist’s world, where all of us take part in this relentless forward motion out of necessity, sensing that if we stopped for just a moment, well—maybe it’s best not to think about it.
Considered as an animal—and why not?—how intelligent one must concede the capitalist’s empire to be, for it has systematically secured the source of its daily sustenance in a way no other animal could, and in its striving to do this it has upset and supplanted the natural order which for millennia has provided for every other creature. Single-minded as a predator, it is, then, and intelligent as the will of nature is—without empathy, but, then again, also with much fear. Extending this analogy just a bit further, we may distill its desire and find it to be as simple as a beast’s: the maintenance of the delicate food chain it has manufactured for itself is its only priority, is it not? We observe how its vision is narrowed to this end, with its range of perception limited to that which might upset the supply of the energy it needs—it shows no concern for the minutiae of the changes wrought to the natural order which it seeks to dominate and control, with this end in mind. But oh! How its tremendous body would thrash, and what havoc it would wreak on its environs, if it sensed a threat to its existence.
But on what exactly does this animal feed? If only that were understood, then it might be possible to bring the unwieldy beast under control.
So I wonder, and in my reasoning I aim to add nothing which is not present in the nature which above I implied is so simple. That’s a conviction you can hold me to, in all that is to follow: nature is simple, but with that I do not mean to preclude its wonder; there is much about it which fills me with awe, and, indeed, strikes terror in my heart, for the fact that it is this way and no other.
What makes it so?
Those who have fought their way out of the food chain, and who are now looking down from the top of it, are liking the position in which they now reside, because there the beast lauds special attention on them, sensing that they have whatever ruthless strength is needed to wrench free of nature’s capriciousness and ensure their own survival. The beast is infatuated by their power, for it too wants to survive.
Here’s occasion for a symbiotic relationship to form between man and beast, and for the beast’s material gifts these men seek answers to questions such as the source of the animal’s sustenance, and have their minds bent toward this task, always, implementing their conclusions preemptively in order to prevent others who may have derived these same answers from applying their knowledge and upsetting the landscape in which they too aspire to hold the most coveted vantage. For we all, one way or another, aspire to such, each for his own reasons.
Thus I too will ask: on what exactly does this animal feed?
I suspect the answer to be dreams.