// RECORDING
// DATE: 115.8.19 23:08
<Felix is digging through a small crate of his belongings, tossing aside a few errant books and holodiscs as he speaks.>
Alright, so I have to continue my account of the FWF, but before I do, I need to explain a few things. I have a specific plan for how these recordings will be released. I’m not sure if it’ll work, but my idea is this -
<He picks up another holodisc, nods in confirmation, and sets that disc in his lap, tossing aside the rest of the crate.>
If you’re watching, it means you’re part of the cause. In some way, you’re part of the solution. I know that you’ll use this information, you’ll build on my work and the work of the FWF. I know you’ll understand, so listen to everything I say.
First off, I’ll state again that the Free Will Front was an autonomous commune of anti-state freedom fighters. They chose those words very carefully, so I’ll go through each one and explain how they settled on those words.
“Autonomous,” because we had the right of self-government. We considered ourselves individual, fully actualized, rational human beings who should be afforded the natural rights generally given to humans. They debated for a while over “free” and “autonomous,” but they settled on the second one because they decided they weren’t “free.” They defined “freedom” in such a way that looking around their society, they saw it didn’t apply to them yet.
“Commune,” alright, now that word means an international - that part is important - an international tribe, so to speak, of autonomous individuals with similar interests regarding their well-being. It’s important to note “international,” because they wanted to make it plain that they didn’t care about race or nationality or anything. We had Gallenteans, Intaki, Matari, all different races as members. We were brought together by, like, things above nationality. Similar interests.
Now “anti-state,” that’s important, too. We weren’t against people. We weren’t against races, we were just against the system. The state is a construction of a small group of people, and it gets perpetuated without the consent of the majority. Everything else that poisons the people, that comes from that small group.
Lastly, we called ourselves “freedom fighters.” A lot of people use a lot of words to describe antagonists of the state, and they’re all biased. “Rebel” is a good one, that just means you’re opposed to the people in charge. They assume you’ll want to be in charge if you succeed. “Guerilla” makes you sound like a backwoods jungle fighter, so nobody takes you seriously. “Terrorist” is an easy one, it means you’re just some religious fanatic with a death wish.
“Freedom fighter.”
<Felix fiddles with the holodisc in his hands, looking at the camera with a determined look.>
We fought oppression. Plain and simple. Didn’t matter where it came from or who was behind it, or who was being targeted. Our belief was that if one member of a society is being oppressed, then no member of that society is truly free, and therefore that society is, in its present state, harmful to universal freedom.
We operated based on unanimity and democracy. There was no “head” of the organization. Instead, we were split into cells. A “cell” was comprised of at least one operator - the guy running the communication lines to other cells. There was at least one paperboy - thats the guy who keeps track of all our hard documents, maps, deposit box numbers, whatever. There was at least one treasurer, he kept track of the money and doled it out when we needed funds. There was at least one street runner - a runner is the eyes and ears, and when we needed him to, he was also a hacker. Lastly, there’d be at least one shot-caller. Now a shot-caller isn’t a leader, like I said, but any operation needs an organizer, somebody making a game plan. That’s a shot-caller.
If you were in the cell, you helped with at least one of those things. Easiest job was being a runner, so there were usually a couple of those guys. But if you didn’t serve a purpose, we didn’t just take you on as a “helper.” We didn’t need thugs, either, because we weren’t a gang. If you need to physically enforce your opinion, you’re no better than the pigs. We all knew self-defense, and we all carried, but we made a pact never to use a weapon unless we had to.
The cell is a beautiful organism. It grows and it shapes itself depending on what it needs. If somebody had something to contribute - a new author they found or a speech they’d written or whatever - we’d make time to listen, and take in those new ideas, and evolve ourselves. That’s how you keep from stagnating. When a nation is in still waters, it starts to rot and corrupt itself. If you only listen to a feedback loop, you turn into a false patriot, somebody who thinks you need to fight progress to retain your identity.
<He chuckles quietly and points at the holodisc in his hand.>
With that in mind, I’m gonna show you something my shot-caller showed me. It’s a speech by one of the greatest political analysts in the cluster: Doctor Isidore Christophe, from the university of Caille. He left his job as a professor to become an independent speaker and political author. He died in YC92, I never got to see one of his live lectures, but he was fucking electric, man. Alright, I’ll let it run, you’ll see what I mean. Peace.
// RECORDING ENDED
…
…
// A/V INPUT
// RUN
<A man in a slim, blue-grey suit sits quietly among a long table of older individuals. They are all clearly scholars of some description, tersely crossing their hands and looking at the table edge. Speaking at a podium is a frail-looking woman who gestures to the blue-suited man.>
We will conclude our panel with a man who has just published his latest work, “Funding the Flag,” Dr. Isidore Christophe.
<She applauds, leading the audience to do the same. The man in question rises and takes the podium. He is aged, but retains a stern professionalism: his eyes are set beneath bushy eyebrows and rounded glasses, his white hair is tied into a short tail, and he tightly holds a small, black notebook in his hands. When the applause subsides, he smiles at the crowd. He speaks with a creaking voice, but there is verve and compassion in his tone nonetheless.>
Thank you, and good evening.
Tonight we spoke a great deal about the nature of necessary freedoms. Generally speaking, our society values personal liberties, perhaps more than anything else. The ground floor of our Federation is built upon core beliefs, that all people are equal and allowed to exist without fear of having their lives infringed upon. However, freedom is not clearly defined even within our own demand for freedom itself.
Freedom is a state in which a person is allowed to make choices about their existence, to the extent that the individual does not, in any great sense, impede, worsen, or disadvantage the life of another. However, should a person be exempt from grave consequences outside their control? The courts have not decided. Case-by-case, one person might be tried for negligence while another walks free on reasonable doubt. Should a person be allowed to live without fear of any serious detriment or alteration of their lives? Natural disasters say otherwise. Should a person ever be robbed of their home, their food, or their life? No, we say: that is why we have a police force.
Too often we overlook the more simplistic means by which freedom is taken away. We think that we are free, as citizens of the Federation, to use transportation, public or private, to go where we wish. We can choose what we eat, what we wear, what recreations we undertake, what hobbies we occupy ourselves with. We can choose to see a movie, or enjoy a dinner with friends. But we are not free. We are not free, because of this -
<The doctor holds up a single planetary credit, showing it to both sides of the auditorium. He keeps it upheld as he speaks.>
Without this, I can’t purchase a ticket for the gravrail, nor can I purchase fuel for my PV. I can’t eat, or have clothes, or sleep under a roof, without this. I can’t afford to pay the ten-credit fee to have an identification card issued, so I can’t apply for a job, or a loan, or passage to a different planet.
Do any of you know what this is? At one time, this represented a certain value of precious metal. It was exchanged in lieu of bartering, to make the first universal exchange rate. But that system of currency has been compounded by the introduction of labor wages. Originally, humans were confined to societies in which your skill determined your station. At times this devolved into caste systems, and other times we were left with “hunter-gatherer” civilizations. But somewhere along the line, someone had a better idea.
He said, “instead of paying one person to do one-hundred percent of an hour-long job, I can pay five people a smaller amount, and have them each do twenty-percent of the job.” Call it what you will - the assembly line, the factory line - it revolutionized labor. It meant that anyone could find employment and earn their bread. But it also meant the death of skilled craftsmen, and the reintroduction of humans as interchangeable batteries for the means of production. The worker is no longer paid for being skilled; they are paid for existing.
The “new worker” arrives at his station and performs the task of the “skilled worker,” ten times faster, with one tenth the skill, for one tenth the cost to the manufacturer. The work is simple, or as the managers like to phrase it, “so easy, an idiot could do it!” The work is tedious, and goes by one hour at a time, until the new worker goes home. He spends his money on food and shelter and entertainment to replenish himself, so that tomorrow he may go and spend another day at the factory.
So you see, this is not a representation of an ounce of metal. This is a representation of some portion of another person’s lifespan. It was given as a reward for sacrificing hours of time doing essentially meaningless labor, something anyone else could do, to produce an item that, likely, nobody needs. Then it was spent on the things we agree all people should be allowed: food, shelter, clean water, clothing. Perhaps some portion went towards someone’s hobby, the last yawp of their creativity and free expression that is allowed in the span of a workday.
Necessary to the usage of currency and factory labor is the sacrifice of personal liberties. Your currency is a collection of tokens, representing the spent hours of others’ lives, and you spend it to stay alive and sane long enough to earn tokens of your own. The very wealthy earn tens of thousands of these every day, but rarely do they have to suffer as much. That is the secret behind currency. If the Amarrian holders gave “food tickets” to their slaves, it would look no different on paper. “You are allowed to sleep here,” they would say, “so long as you do as I say and work for my gain.”
We are quick to point out an incident of injustice, a robbery or a murder, and say “this is what is wrong with society.” We notice those events because they are blips on the radar, they are not ordinary. But we are so entrenched in the society we are examining that often, we overlook the most obvious of injustices. We forget how unnatural modern society is.
Thank you, and good evening.
// END
Author
Topic: Vox Populi (Read 2159 times)