“For thirty-five years, what has animated Friedman’s counterrevolution is an attraction to the kind of freedom and possibility available only in times of cataclysmic change—when people, with their stubborn habits and insistent demands, are blasted out of the way—moments when democracy seems a practical impossibility.”
—Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism
Wake up. We are in serious trouble . . . and not in the way you think. While you and I sew cloth masks and can kumquats, our democracy is teetering on the brink of collapse. Opportunists and charlatans the world over have been waiting for this—a moment of pure chaos that they can leverage for their own personal benefit. Terry from next door is using a leaf blower, even though Santa Monica banned them years ago.
Powerful people are meeting in smoke filled Zooms, not to reduce suffering, but to capitalize on it. Demoralizing, isn’t it? Times of crisis should bring out the best in us, but for every honest broker there are twelve Sheilas from Apartment 8 who, for some reason, think they can just take any spot in the garage now. I’ll be honest, it keeps me up at night.
Because it’s not just a question of the rights we lose, it’s also the rights we give away. Oh sure, someone always argues that it’s for the greater good. That all you relinquish will be restored later, once the worst is over. But do you seriously believe Gretchen is going to return our loaf pan once August rolls around? I have my doubts.
That’s not to say that we shouldn’t make sacrifices. Now is the time to stand up, roll up our sleeves and sit down for ESPN’s eight hours of trick-shot pool tournaments. I get it. But what I don’t get is why the landscapers are only coming every other week. They usually wear masks anyway. At least when they do the weed cutter thing.
When will this tyranny end? Past may prove to be prologue. In 1973, CIA false-flag operations brought Pinochet to power. In 2004, the tsunami that crippled Sri Lanka prompted foreign investors to snap up coastline before the locals could rebuild. And ten minutes ago, those idiot kids from two doors down decided to play football in the middle of the street. The ball hit my car. Or at least it could have.
The only way to stop shameless exploitation like this is to call it out—but often the general public doesn’t know the full extent of the wrongdoing until it’s too late. This morning, Garrett who used to live below us posted a selfie…wearing my mirrored aviators. Garrett moved out September 15th, 2008, the day Lehman Brothers collapsed, plunging the country into the biggest financial crisis since the Great Depression. Coincidence? I think not.
My aim isn’t to turn your quilting project into a patchwork Kleenex sopping with tears. I believe we have reason to hope—the knife of opportunism cuts both ways. Just as some bad actors use moments of chaos to enrich themselves, so too can we use them to promote positive change. If we can be vigilant, stay informed and find a way to come together, united against the robber-barons of our time, a better world is possible. I stole Terry’s leaf blower and threw it in the trash. ◊
LARS KENSETH is a writer and cartoonist from Santa Monica. His Peruvian crab-fighting days are over, but please follow him anyway @larskenseth on all platforms.
