I laugh at revolutionaries
Who quote The Matrix
Or march wearing authentic
Time Warner-licensed Guy Fawkes masks.
Consider the contradiction
When Internet activists
Power up their $2000 MacBooks
Or fancy smartphones to go on
Anti-consumerism Twitter rants--
Punctuating them with a link to their book's Amazon page.
I chuckle at the folks who praise Anonymous for
Disrupting the websites of
The Department of Justice and U.S. Copyright Office,
When just one day prior they were posting Facebook statuses
Warning against legislature which
Threatens to "destroy the Internet" by
Granting authorities the power to shut down entire sites
For user-generated infractions.
They fail to recognize the Internet as a trillion dollar industry--
One that it isn't free. Don't believe me? Just ask Comcast and Verizon.
The towers, cables, and satellites which bounce around their "revolutionary"
Propaganda didn't just appear out of nowhere.
The servers which convey our tweets didn't spontaneously grow from bird shit.
Someone has to build and maintain the infrastructure of the net.
You know what: it's laughable when folks shun large corporations,
Choosing instead to shop local.
They still pay with their Mastercards, Visas, and American Express cards.
Even the cash they used are notes issued
By the Federal Reserve—a system of privately owned banks.
But they aren't aware of the joke.
They're too giddy from occupying public places,
Rallying against the 1% in name of the U.S. Constitution.
I got news for them—guess who drafted, signed, and ratified
The U.S. Constitution? The fucking 1%! That's right.
Rich white men; many of whom used the free labor of enslaved African
To provide them with the financial means to further their own political aspirations.
Don't you see it now?
Do you see the big fucking joke?
Wait, I haven't gotten to the punch line yet.
It doesn't matter how anti-greed we are,
How anti-corruption we are,
How many animals we save,
How many fucking trees we hug,
How many cans of store brought chili we feed the hungry,
How many sweatshop sewed sweaters we give the homeless,
How many fucking streets we occupy;
It doesn't matter.
The piper shall, and will, get paid.
And that, my friends, is the big fucking joke.
Am I the only one who's laughing?
A flashback poem originally published in the anthology Poets' America.
Words = Life
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