Capitalistic Enslavement
By
Hunter James Holthaus
Dedication
I dedicate this chapbook to the workers of the world who live at the mercy of
my first class society.
Capitalistic Enslavement ©2011 Hunter Holthaus
Hunter Fisher Gatherer Press
Table of Contents
Introduction
Economic Class: Where Do I Go From Here . . . 6
I Will Take No More . . . 10
About the Author . . . 14
Introduction
When life was simple, man did what he needed to do in order to survive. He
ate what he hunted or gathered and strived under the elements of the world.
Humans lived in small kin based societies that were unspecialized, undeveloped and what we may see as primitive. However over the course of thousands
of years man has moved further and further away from this golden age of
Hunter-Gathering societies replacing them with a global system based upon
food production and an unequal allocation of the worlds resources.
Almost half of the worlds population, three billion people, live on less than
three dollars a day. So many people living in poverty today are a result of a
system in which our world revolves around, known as capitalism. In capitalism the rich get richer and the lower classes grow. As I am a citizen of the Untied States I live lavishly in comparison to the world and I see this mentality
that drives so many people in my society. A mentality stating that ones wealth
and tangible luxuries are the key to success and ultimate happiness. This mentality that our country is based upon can be seen as a cause of the exploitation
of so many people. Almost all products in the United States are produced for
very inexpensive labor in third world countries by people who can barely afford to survive.
Through this short chapbook I will address this social injustice within the
working class of the world today as well as exploring how economic class effects my own life and what I find value in. I want the reader to simply understand and acknowledge that as we live lavishly in our first class societies the
masses around the world are suffering at the mercy of our consumption. Be
aware, I am not proposing a solution to the dilemmas of the world but simply
addressing a social injustice.
Economic Class: Where Do I Go From Here
“Money does not matter, tangibles do not matter. The only object of any value
is living my life the way I want to live it. My goal is to roam truly free in a
world of slaves. To be at a point of true success and acceptance of a fulfilled
life as I lay on my death bed.”
I am at the cross roads of one’s life. Nearing the end of my high school career I
am about to embark on the journey known as life in the real world. On my
own, in control of my own fate, no longer tied down by the restraints of my
parents, and no longer living in a protected, safe environment. The time is now
for me to start making decisions about my future, and how I make those decisions is based upon my past.
I have grown up with everything I could possibly want while living in a relatively wealthy family. I’ve lived in a nice house, I have been all around the
world on trips and I have been able to pursue any passion that I’ve had. Not
once have I been pressured to get a job, or had to worry if I will eat my next
meal or had any doubts that I will need to do something in order to survive.
People may say I am spoiled and that I don’t understand how fortunate I am
living with luxuries that aren’t accessible to many people. You know what?
They may be right. I may live lavishly while the masses suffer around the
world, and I may not fully understand the terrors of their lives. However, does
that mean my life is just dandy, and that I will have a great, successful life?
Something that so many people fail to understand is that your economic class
does not necessarily dictate the success of your life. I believe resilience is the
key to true success.
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My father, for instance, grew up with his nine brothers and sisters in a trailer
park in National City, San Diego. He began his life dirt poor, living off fish
sticks and tator tots, constantly being denied things he could not afford. He so
desperately desired a different life, therefore he went to college and became a
lawyer. Now he lives in a nice house and makes a fair amount of money which
allows him to live comfortably, doing the kinds of things he could not do when
he had financial struggles. But none of the money or tangible luxuries he can
now afford really matter. Its his story that matters, his resilience, his personal
meaning of success.
What about my life, where do I go from here? I didn’t grow up in some poor
family that could not afford to provide me with many opportunities. I have
everything at my expense, I can go to any college I want and I have the financial means to live comfortably at this point. But where do I go from here? I am
not in my dad’s situation where his primary goal was to simply leave the trailer
park. Where do I gain my resilience or idea of a successful life? I could go to
college and pursue a career that makes a wealthy living, like I live now, but I
do not see much value in that way of life.
One would think I have the perfect setup to easily pursue a career from the
starting point I am at. However, through my life of living in wealth I am able
to step back sometimes and think about what really matters to me. To step back
from the norm everyone becomes caught up in and to think about what I really
want out of life. What do I want to accomplish? Do I want to become even
more wealthy than my parents in order to live even more lavishly? Do I want
to live a comfortable quiet life working a job that doesn’t totally suck? Where
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does that get me in life? So I would have money and tangibles to help me live a
relatively care free life. I would die believing, “Hey I did alright” but deep
down somewhere inside me I would still know I didn’t really live up to my
perspective of success.
I watch so many people in this world caught up by the idea that to be truly successful you need to hit all the points in life that society tells you to hit. Go to
school to learn, get a career to make money, buy houses and cars, meet someone you love, start a family, have kids and die believing that you lived your life
the best way possible. Many people in society live successful lives as they accomplish “their” goals throughout their lives. Goals based upon the knowledge
of the people, what the people believe to be successful life goals for the ideal
life. And they live their lives accomplished with a feeling of success. But I am
at a dilemma, I don’t see much value in many aspects of the ideal life.
I have had a lot of time to observe and question the world I live in, mainly because my economic class enables me to see the world in a different light than
most. If I was in my fathers position at my age living in the trailer park with
nine brothers bullying me, I’m sure my outlook on life would be different. I
would want to do everything possible to get out of there and to go to college.
However, since I don’t live in an everyday struggle, I have more energy to
think about what I really want out of my future. My goals for my future aren’t
to simply get out of my house and to go to college to land a lucrative career.
Living in a higher economic class I have been able to pursue my passions and
interests. Ever since I was very young I have always been intrigued by art. For
no apparent reason I am drawn to the simplest of things and I find an artistic
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value in them. As I express my self through art, the past and future do not matter. All worries or concerns about the quality or value of my life are non existent. The only aspect of the utmost importance is the present enabling my mind
to roam free and my art to flourish. Art is definitely something that I will do
for the rest of my life, but lately I have been thinking that it’s something that
deserves a larger part of it. To be engaged in something I truly care about like
art would allow me to live freely, in a world by which so many peoples perspectives and goals in life are controlled by oppressive forces. Art is something
I could pursue that would allow me to reach my ultimate goals to be successful. If I am doing what I truly love with all of my heart, then nothing can stop
me from believing I have over come a great feat. I would truly live free in life,
out of reach of societies pre set plans. Financially it may be harder, but as long
as I can manage to survive and continue my art it wouldn’t matter because
when it comes to true success, money is not the key. If I can accomplish that
goal to roam truly free out of societies grasps then my story of resilience will
be just as great as my fathers.
I Will Take No More
“The proletarians of the world have nothing to lose but their chains. They have
a world to win. Workers of all countries: Unite!” (Marx, Communist Manifesto)
“I barely had two dollars in my pocket trying to support my family. We lived
eight days without tea, sugar, or meat-on bread and butter only with cold water. Its pinching times” (Foner, History of United States Labor)
Last time I checked the year’s 1902, but my memory seems to fade every moment I spend working in this disheveled, Boston brick factory. Been working
in this hell for I don’t know how long now. Time here seems to last forever,
from sunrise to sunset I am trapped in the grim walls of this god forsaken
place, working fourteen hour shifts, unable to see the light of day. The majority
of my life is spent smashing rocks in this brick factory, fighting excruciating
hunger pains and trying to prevent my mind from wandering off into to the
dark reality that is my life. Day after day the supervisors treat me like I’m
worth nothing and threaten to throw me out on the street without any means to
survive. Sometimes I wonder how much more of this nonsense I can take.
This old man blanketed in dust and weathered by scars was worked at the station next to mine, he noticed how I had practically smashed this piece of rock
into dust. He saw how I was beginning to crack under the pressures of the
brick factory. How every time my hammer struck stone, my mind fell deeper
into a dark hole that would be impossible to climb out of.
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“Listen hear boy, there’s no need in getting all worked up over smashing rocks
or heartless supervisors. The best way to last in here is to just keep your head
down and to focus on your own work.”
I glared at him with uncontrollable anger and began pouring out, “It just enrages me how little respect those rich supervisors have for us. I mean we’re the
ones laboring in this place for twelve hours a day, straining our bodies to make
their bricks. I guarantee you, you won’t ever find one of those clean and tidy
supervisors down here smashing rock and inhaling dust for a few pieces of
bread a day. Never.”
The old man looked more depressed now, “Boy, we are simply living fates
path. The conditions in which we work may be terrible but frankly I don’t see
another option. There’s nothing no one man can do to make any difference
here.”
This didn’t help me at all, in fact it drove me even more mad, but he was right.
There was nothing I alone could do to make a difference. I felt almost sorry for
the man, it was like he had lost all hope for any kind of change, like he had
accepted the idea that he was worth nothing.
I continued work that day in a bit of a stupor, still working hard, but thinking
even harder about what the old man had said. I hadn’t looked up from my station once that day, at least until I was interrupted by the horrid sound of a
wheezing, dying man. It was the old man, he was having some kind of horrible
breathing problems and was collapsed on the cold floor of the factory coughing
up a dark blood and dust mixture. Before I could fully process what was hap11
pening, the rich and tidy supervisor quickly came over to him with two other
big guys who began lifting the wheezing man up off of the floor. The supervisor said in his high pitched voice, “You think you can just die in my factory
you worthless piece of scum. Get him out on the street.”
Then he took his fist and shoved it deep into the old man’s stomach letting a
final heave of blood spray from the man’s mouth. By this time all of the workers were watching, not believing the sight of the blood covered laborer being
dragged on the cold floor. For a moment I could not believe my eyes, when it
all sank in a second later there was so much rage pouring out of me it just
couldn’t be contained any longer. I got up and screamed, “No more!”
The supervisor’s face froze, it quickly turned to a crimson red as his eyes
struck me with the greatest might he possessed. I began to cry and stood up on
the table for all to hear, “I will take no more, I am fed up with the injustice in
this factory. I pity you all, for you are all weak, you are all afraid to stand up
for what is right. This factory has made us believe that we are all worth nothing. We work in these horrible conditions day after day as the wealthy supervisors live comfortably reaping the benefits of our labor. I am through.” Everything was frozen as far as I could see, not a hammer striking or an inkling of
sound.
The supervisor’s anger could no longer be controlled as he roared out like no
one had ever heard like a viscous animal ripping into the flesh of his prey. “Get
back to work, you are all here under my authority, you have no choice, I own
you.” The workers eyes grew furious and I could tell that they would have no
more. One by one they stood up and dropped their hammers. As far as the eye
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could see hammers dropped; workers stood. The supervisors anger slowly
started to turn into fear as the masses of men began to surround him. The
sound of rhythmic hammers was now replaced with that of cheers and screams
of revolution. Each worker that day was reborn, taking back their rights to be
human.
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About the Author
Hunter Holthaus, a native San Diegan, and student at High Tech High school is
intrigued by the studies of human societies and tendencies. As he continues his
career as a student he hopes to gain a further understanding of various aspects
of humanities in order to gain a deeper understanding of himself. Hunter’s future after schooling is not yet decided as he is still exploring and experiencing
the world that he lives in, in order to pursue a passion that is close to heart. At
this point in his life Hunter is a competitive distance runner and he feels running is where he finds his motivation and sanity. Qualities that keep him striving to understand a world filled with so much social injustice and inequalities.
Hunter is an artist who works with a plethora of mediums from acrylics to
aerosols to feed his need for visual expressionism. Art is something Hunter
promises to continue throughout the course of his life, no matter which path he
takes, as it has always been an outlet for him to let go of his emotions in order
to live freely.
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