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Are you guys anti praxis? I have some ideas that may be naive but I would still like to discuss them and have them be criticized. (Warning long ass rant but if you have the time please read and respond)

I was just reading a post in here about some lord of the rings character and I saw some disillusionment with the idea of a revolution. Complaining about how it would be impossible saying they're losing faith etc... and I would like to respond to that
But first, I'm new to this sub and from what I've seen and heard about it, it seems a little loopy (no offense). Maybe I haven't read enough or maybe it's that I haven't been shroompilled or acidpilled yet, but from my perspective right now this is very foreign to me. Especially the psychedelic/ occult aspects which by the way I am eager to learn about.
I discovered this subreddit because I like the theory and tactics of the situationist international, and I've read a few of their works, Debord's Society Of The Spectacle of course, I am currently reading Vaneigem's The Revolution Of Everyday Life, and I feel like Breton's Manifestoes of Surrealism are also relevant to include although Breton preceded the Situationists. I would also much appreciate more recommended reading which I'll get to after finishing the books I just got if anyone responds to this.
Back to my main point which is revolutionary tactics and the exploration of them. Now, again, I am young and not very well read, so I acknowledge that my ideas could be totally naive. However, I would still like to air them out to be criticized, debunked, explored, or expanded upon. Also I shouldn't really say "my ideas" because they aren't really mine but these are the revolutionary tactics/ ideas that I see as the most viable to successfully combat the horrors of the spectacle, and late stage capitalism.
(Not in any order of practicality or importance ). One thing would be to convince the public, slowly but actively to drop out of society (which would speed up its collapse). This would look like mass amounts of people just dropping out of their everyday lives, not contributing to the perpetuation of capitalism by not using money etc... This is of course is so ideal, impractical, and uncomfortable that I think nobody will take it seriously, and I can't say I think anyone should. That being said, it cannot be accurately labeled as impossible. If this societal collapse were to take place we could replace Capitalism with a fractured network of ideologies wherever they may pop up, or one would have the ability to remain withdrawn from an ideology/ community/ anything unnecessary to adhere to. This would not make life fulfilling alone, but it could for some, and being involved the collapse of something would be a more authentic form of entertainment than anything the spectacle has to offer at the very least.
Secondly I think that Marxism should be discouraged as an acceptable leftist ideology (I also think that ideologies in general aren't good for much but for the sake of the argument... I'll continue). Marxism is outdated, and particularly outdated are its revolutionary tactics. A forcible overthrow of the bourgeoisie by the proletariat in today's world (in developed countries more so) would end in embarrassing defeat of the working people under almost any conceivable circumstances. Also how are working people expected to get a grip on Marx? Do modern Marxist expect workers to crack open Capital in between shifts? Do they expect them to come home after a long shift and turn off the TV in favor of reading The Holy Family? Clearly this is nauseatingly unrealistic, and the future (and present) of radicalization lies in short, passionate texts (or other forms of information) like zines which would be distributed for free by people like us. Anarchism is closer to practicality in my opinion, but sadly it is highly stigmatized, and its own name works against it in ways which are more powerful than I think some suspect.
This one is pretty stupid but petitioning the government for land for free existence. Yeah, it's dumb but somewhat practical maybe depending on how public opinion shifts in the future.
I actually don't have as many ideas as I thought I did when I started writing this, so I'll get to my most practical thing. In order for any sort of revolution to take place we must have as many people as possible in support of it obviously, and we must have a large base which is at least somewhat well read/ understands the goals/ tactics/ praxis of a hypothetical revolution. I think that when my generation is going to college, having experienced the police brutality that started/ came with the BLM protests, having experienced the Corona virus pandemic, and are most likely entering into extreme debt, they will become very disillusioned with capitalism/ life in the west in general. If from now until then mass amounts of theory/ ultra-left influences flood the spectacle via the internet (Tik Tok, Reddit, Instagram, Facebook, .....), and more and more things are detourned physically (vandalism, distribution and creation of anti spectacle art). People are encouraged to experiment with their consciousnesses with psychedelics, people are made aware of the hypocrisy of capitalism, religion, and democracy then something might happen.
I don't know, I try not to lose hope in the revolution, but I am aware that it has become my replacement for religion just as the economy is its replacement for others, and the spectacle has become its replacement for even more.
I will be fine without it as will many other people, but is important to realize that many will not be fine without it. That being said inaction may very well be the fate of the world. If you ever give up on revolution remember that the power will always be in the hands of the people in some form, and that global warming could exterminate the human race. Global warming is encouraged by our current system, it's almost like we have to.
This rant is pretty lame but I want to incite responses. If you read this whole thing thanks :) I would love some reading recommendations and responses if you have the time.
submitted by keithr69 to sorceryofthespectacle

[PI] A Demon From Earth (Ch 37)

Author's note: Time to shine!
As ever, comments, corrections, and suggestions welcome. Or just general bullshitting, that's cool too. :-D
Also, you are now reading a story being written by SOMEONE WHO HAS A FUCKIN' JOB! Woot!
So, next Sunday I fly out to Chicago to do two weeks of training, then a few weeks under the tutelage of an instructor driver, and then I go out on my own. I'll be hauling flatbed loads throughout the 48 state region, and possibly even into Canada. Although I hope that happens after winter is over. ;-)
38 is written and half polished. What I expect to be 42 is written and polished. (Sometimes, the story comes to me out of order. ;-) ) I'm going to try and get the stuff in between written before I go.
I don't know what my free time is going to look like after I start working. I'll post again on Wednesday and Sunday. But I think I'm going to have to drop to once a week. Do folks here have a preference for Sundays or Wednesdays? Or some other day entirely, if it's going to be once a week? I just don't want to completely run out of buffer and then feel like I'm behind and then lose motivation. That's a thing that happens to me sometimes.
Leave your thoughts in the comments...
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After Andy's rifle had been cleaned, I gave him an ammo can full of magazines and two cases of ammunition. Then I hitched the trailer up to drag it over to the Master Smith. Might as well get him started on making spears out of the points I'd ground out. First I had to go find one of my translators, though.
Oz was apparently busy with Sisme, but I found Friday and she agreed to come with me. She looked at the truck with some trepidation.
"Look, it's just a truck. We're not going into combat, and even if it came up, I'd let you out first."
"Fine. Just… bad memories."
"Yeah. I have a bunch of those, too. C'mon. Hop in. I'll drive slow."
She climbed in and we headed over.
The Smith looked at the stock tank full of spearheads rather skeptically.
"How are these… hollow things supposed to be spearheads?" Friday translated for him.
"I'm glad you asked."
I grabbed the one I had mounted on a pole I had at the shop, and thrust it at a piece of broken armor someone had claimed for me out of the armory. The spear point punched through it like it was made of soft cheese.
I yanked it back out, showed him how the tip wasn't even slightly marked, and said, "It's made out of a type of steel you've never seen before. I'm thinking of spears about ten feet long. There's 2500 of them. How long do you think it would take to get those turned out? They don't need to be works of art, just functional."
He looked at the hole in the armor, scratched his head, and said, "If the Master Carver can get everyone to work on making the shafts, I think that doing 50 a day is reasonable."
"That's a lot longer than I was hoping for. If the choke point is on your end, both Corwin and I know how to swing a hammer. Would that help?"
"I still need to make the rivets we'd be using to mount them to the shafts."
"Ah, well, you're in luck then."
I walked back to the truck, opened the rear door of the box, and pulled out the slide mounted storage chest in the back. Lifting one of the lids, I pulled out a case of quarter inch diameter flat head rivets. 10,000 premade industrial rivets. Gosh, but modern technology is grand.
I handed the box over and the Smith looked at them with a completely stunned expression.
"They're all exactly the same! How long did it take you to make these?"
"I didn't make them, I just bought them. They were made on a machine that does nothing else. I would guess that the company that produces them probably makes several million of them in exactly this size every year, and about a thousand other sizes as well."
"This will significantly speed up the task of making all of those into spears."
"How much?"
"If you and your friend can help, and the Master Carver will devote the guild to making the shafts, maybe ten days, total?"
"I suspect that her majesty will be willing to strongly encourage his cooperation."
Ivy found me using Friday to talk to the palace steward about various animal fats, candle wax, and strong wines they might have on hand, along with smaller clay or glass jugs. It looked like there was a good chance we'd be able to make Molotovs for use against the trolls if they came en masse again. He had just promised to send a number of casks that were suspected of having gone "off" up to the courtyard when she arrived.
"Hey, Ivy! Wanna come help me make some moonshine?"
"You're that desperate for a drink?"
"Ha ha. It's for firebombs. Ethanol, some of the diesel fuel, fat, candle or beeswax, and the drum of gasoline I dissolved a whole bunch of scavenged styrofoam in should give us something that will burn hot and stick to trolls."
"How are you going to deliver it?"
I giggled a bit. "Water balloon slingshots. It's an idea I had a long time ago."
"You're completely nuts, you know that, right?"
"You love it!" I declared.
"I tolerate it,” she said with a faked haughty sniff and a grin. "Sure, let's go make some 'shine. Least we don't have to worry 'bout no revenuers!"
"That's the spirit!"
"Not yet, we haven't made any moonshine."
I laughed. "Yeah, let's go get ready."
We used rocks to build a ring shaped enclosure about four feet in diameter, with openings on opposite sides. On one side we built a chimney, and then we wrestled the now empty stock tank on top of the ring, sealing it off. Wood was going to go in the one side left open, with a cross draft from the chimney to stoke the fire underneath.
"Ok. Now we need to make some clay mud and slather it on everything to get it nice and air tight."
Ivy was less than enthusiastic.
"You want me to play in the mud?"
"I'm not asking you to wrestle in it. Although…"
She punched me in the shoulder. I threw one back, but she dodged it.
"Just pretend you're five. That shouldn't be hard."
"Ha ha."
We got to work. It was kinda messy, but not as bad as Ivy was expecting, I don't think.
I had asked for someone to deliver a pile of wood, and that arrived at about the same time as the first of the wine casks. They were conveniently elf sized, so I picked one up and set it bung side up on top of a couple of rocks I'd put in the tank as standoffs. I managed to pantomime that I needed water for the tank by taking a bottle of it from the truck and washing my hands, then pouring the rest in, and making a bunch of gestures.
I found a rubber stopper with a hole in it of about the right size in the chest of crap in the truck, and fed a chunk of copper tubing into it. Then I took the bung out of the wine barrel, and realized that I should have emptied about half of it into something else first.
By the time I'd found Friday again and managed to ask for a couple of spare empty casks, another elf had shown up with a cart with two full size barrels of water and a bucket. Which I could have used for the extra wine. Damnit.
So I put the bung back in the barrel, pulled it back out of the stock tank, and used the bucket to empty one of the water barrels into the tank. Then I poured about half of the wine into the now empty water barrel, and stuck the wine cask back on the rocks in the tank. Then I used the bucket to add water to the tank to about two thirds of the height of the wine left in the cask. Sometimes just improvising shit is less efficient than it could be.
Finally, I had things set up. It turned out that the empty wine casks were a good idea anyway, because they made for a nice catchment for the distillate. I had the rubber stopper in the wine cask in the tank with a dozen coils between it and where it fed into the one sitting on the ground. I had a starter fire pile built and ready to light under the tank. Showtime!
I grabbed a camping size propane tank out of the truck, and screwed a torch head into it. Using that, lighting the campfire under the tank was easy. Once it was going well, I fed a bunch more wood in, and let it build a bunch of coals. The chimney was drawing nicely, so it only took about two hours before there were enough coals to make a bed that would fill the whole bottom of the setup. A long pole let me move things around under there, and I threw even more wood in.
Water boils at 100 celsius, by definition. Ethanol boils at only 78 C or so. I dropped my cooking thermometer in the water, and watched the temperature rise. I wanted to keep the water at about 90 C, so I'd get the alcohol to vaporize, but leave the water and any vinegar in the wine behind. The wood of the wine casks wasn't a great conductor of heat, but it should be adequate.
At about 70 C I started to get a few drips from the end of the coil I had sitting above the empty cask, so I bent things around a bit and stuck it inside the hole for the bung.
I realized that I was being inefficient again. I got another rubber stopper, and made a second set of coils. Pouring half out of a second wine cask into the water barrel, I then put it into the tank. Then I poured some of the wine back into both of them, because the displacement with the second cask in the tank was going to be wrong after the alcohol had come out if I left them at that level.
A while later, the drips started again once the added wine was up to temperature, and then a bit after that, the second one started as well. I probably should have brought more copper tubing, because I really had room for about five casks at once. A dozen coils on each rig left me with only six left of the spool. Oh well.
Once things settled out, and all I had to do was make sure the fire was steady and the water wasn't too hot, I started in on my task of belting ammo together. What a pain.
"Y'know, in the off time from turning wine into really terrible moonshine, this thing could be used as a hot tub. Maybe I should introduce the elves to that."
"I bet Anneke would be happy to go hot tubbing with you."
"I hate you. I just wanted you to know that."
She laughed. "Well, I didn't bring a bathing suit, so I think I'll skip out."
"You modest people are so strange."
"You immodest people are even stranger, so there."
I blew a raspberry at her and went back to assembly.
Several hours later, I had linked nearly four thousand rounds and brought our total of belted ammo up to five k, and we were out of links. A couple of times along the way, I had poured more wine into the casks in the tank.
"How did you manage to do that for so long? Don't your hands hurt?"
"My hands always hurt. I just ignore it."
She knew me well enough to moderate the look of pity she gave me, at least.
The drips from the tubing had slowed way down, so I pulled the next cask out and poured a third of it into the water barrel with the rest of the leftovers. Then I pulled the stopper out of one of the casks in the water tank and put it in the new one, then pulled that cask out and put the new one in the water.
"Mmmm. Hot, non-alcoholic wine dregs. Yummy."
I set it off to the side. This stuff was probably ten to fifteen percent alcohol to start with, so filling the drip cask was going to take somewhere between three to six casks of wine in total, depending on how pure the stuff I was getting out managed to be. I'd probably have to do it all over again with the distillate in order to get it pure enough for use as a weapon.
Since it made the most sense to keep things moving, this was going to be a really long night. Which worked for me, because it meant I'd sleep through more of tomorrow. Fuck, but I hate the end of October.
Getting to slaughter a whole shit-pot of pigfucking little slavers on the anniversary of my divorce was disturbingly cathartic, though. I'd probably want to keep a weather eye on that sort of thing.
Eight hours later, and I'd managed to get twelve casks of wine through their first distillation cycle. A while after I started, I decided to rejigger things around sufficiently to run five casks at once. I really didn't need quite so much tubing for each setup. I'd run a test with the leftover six coils, helicing them tighter to give a higher internal partial pressure. When that turned out to work, I modified the other two rigs into four.
I was probably losing some of the ethanol to evaporation, but the tighter coil radius helped with that problem, and I put the outlet of the tubing further down in the receiver cask so vapors would have to travel farther to escape. What I really needed to do was daisy chain these things, but I really was out of copper tubing now.
After the first distillate cask had been filled, I took one of the empties I'd generated, and started in on the second cycle. Since the stuff in the cask was still warm, it didn't take long at all for it to start producing after I put it in the tank.
I caught a small amount of the second cycle stuff in a cut down soda can, and held my lighter to it. It caught readily and burned with a hot blue flame. I'd definitely gotten it to at least 60%. After I had both of the receiver casks complete, I'd do a third distillation. That's probably the best I could accomplish with the rig I had available.
Everyone had gone to bed hours ago. In a way, it was kind of comfortable sitting here alone, just feeding the fire under the tank, monitoring the water temperature and the wine levels, filling casks, cycling out the spent dregs, and so forth. It kept my mind off things I preferred not to think about.
After the last of the wine kegs had hit their first end, and the first cask of distilled wine alcohol had stopped dripping, I decided to shut things down and go to sleep. I drove a bung into the three casks of ethanol, and marked which was on which cycle, then banked the fire with a piece of metal in front of the opening I'd been feeding the wood through. It shouldn't go out completely, so I wouldn't need to reheat all of the water in the morning.
All in all, I supposed it had been a productive day.
Buy Fess some, uh, really terrible brandy? Oh wait, he has plenty. Or maybe it's Port. I dunno, I've never distilled wine before.
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submitted by itsetuhoinen to HFY