Activist Paradox

Still working on the next part of my anger series but had to stop and bring this up.

I caught a video from a socialist youtuber, he does a good job of breaking down Leftist and Socialist concepts and teaching about them to those that have never studied them, or have only heard about such things via the various propaganda machines that portrayed the subject in a less than honest light. Interesting stuff and really useful when you’re exploring modern day circumstances.

Anyway, he’s giving a talk about how the American Liberal is the most dangerous animal vis a vis progressivism. He’s referring to both MLK and Malcom X, but he’s applying it to today and specifically how they talk about change and endorsing progressive things but then support a bastard like Biden. His particular line in the sand regarding Biden was his stance on Israel, one I can certainly understand, but he brought a whole lot of receipts when it came to both foreign and domestic policies.

All of which is fine, a progressive of just about any stripe should not be happy with the American Left(Democrats), there’s a lot not to like. That case has been made many times. But the thing is, and thing I bring up to him is this – There’s the world we want, the world we’re in, and the world we’re trying to prevent. Faced with the world as it is right now, knowing the you’re going to have a Democratic candidate and a Republican one, both of which are known quantities, and one of which is arguably far worse in many ways than the other, do you just take your ball and go home, cleaving to ideological purity? Or do you select an option that will arguably lead to lesser harm?

His answer to me was to, in my opinion, sidesteps the question entirely and suggested I join a local socialist group which has a demonstrated record of success.

Maybe it’s just me, but I think there’s a bit of blind spot there.

By Dan Granot

I chose the Shorter Whitman because of his work, "Song of Myself" and because of my self-deprecating sense of humor. I am under no illusion that I can write successful essays or poetry, but I have been known to write them anyway.

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