"Why isn't throwing money at the fire making it stop????"
this post was submitted on 08 Jan 2025
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Antiwork
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A community for those who want to end work, are curious about ending work, want to get the most out of a work-free life, want more information on anti-work ideas and want personal help with their own jobs/work-related struggles.
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Start here! These are probably the most talked-about essays on the topic.
- The Abolition of Work by Bob Black (1985) | listen
- On the Phenomenon of Bullshit Jobs by David Graeber (2013) | listen
- In Praise of Idleness by Bertrand Russell (1932) | listen
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This is fun. This is the moment in history when the fire department stops being an example of successful socialism.
The government made a situation in which there's no water available. That's the problem with socialism: it's a monopoly without an incentive structure to continue providing services. It's great until the government fucks up the service so badly that nobody can get access to it. Then the socialized thing becomes a nothing.
This was a case of not being prepared for climate change. There was four times the normal demand for 15 hours straight. The water ran out because nobody anticipated needing the amount they did. That wasn't because of socialism.
Jesus you're dumb
When one person posts an extremely articulate comment with a well-defined argument about why they feel the way they do, and another person (YOU) replies to that with a comment in which the only thing they say is "Jesus you're dumb", I'm going to assume the dumbass is the one who was NOT articulate or detailed in any capacity (YOU).
Welcome to the days before professional police and fire. Where only the wealthy could afford to pay for their homes to be protected or crimes against them to be pursued. The poor had to hope for community to come to their aid.
Get fucked Keith, Crassus and his shitty private firemen haven't been around for a fat minute. But hey you should celebrate, this is your free market paradise right here. Meteorological markets shorted the value of your home's existence.
Awwww he deleted his account. Or maybe it burned down too.
Ancient Rome had privatized fire department. Caesar's friend Crassus got the job and used it to extort people to sell their homes in a neighborhood when a fire broke out. As a result he became one of the richest people in history. He was also killed by the Persians who poured liquid gold (or silver, depending on source) on his decapitated head and sent it back to Rome.
People need to realize the rich are not smart. And when they fuck things up, we all suffer.
It’s nice to see them fuck around and find out, but we cannot afford to keep watching them find out on climate change. They’re going to get us all killed.
People need to realize the rich are not smart.
Just look at Phony Stark.
Crazy thing is that there are people who genuinely think he is very smart, because he uses bots on social media to promote that image and it works as we can see.
What did "the rich" do to create this situation where there's no water to feed the hydrants?
And Nestle being allowed to take it practically for free for decades
"The rich" created an environment for this to happen by making sure the government could not regulate anythingand be effective in addressing any issues such as climate change, insurance, public utilities. You name it they fucked with it.
Don’t wanna be that person, I don’t think it’s okay to make fun of someone else’s misery. I can’t speak to the ethics and morality of this tweet dude, but not everyone who’s rich is an immoral or unethical person, and not everyone who’s working class has morals or ethics. People should aim to do better for each other. Maybe I am just naive to want something like that.
Yes, you are respectfully naive.
One does not become rich enough to buy these $10m homes and $2m apartments without enacting violence on others.
Just because you don’t think class war is violence doesn’t change reality.
And boy do I feel like some self defense these days.
I was shooting heroin and reading “The Fountainhead” in the front seat of my privately owned police cruiser when a call came in. I put a quarter in the radio to activate it. It was the chief.
“Bad news, detective. We got a situation.”
“What? Is the mayor trying to ban trans fats again?”
“Worse. Somebody just stole four hundred and forty-seven million dollars’ worth of bitcoins.”
The heroin needle practically fell out of my arm. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Bitcoins are the ultimate currency: virtual, anonymous, stateless. They represent true economic freedom, not subject to arbitrary manipulation by any government. Do we have any leads?”
“Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to figure out who did this and we’re going to take them down … provided someone pays us a fair market rate to do so.”
“Easy, chief,” I said. “Any rate the market offers is, by definition, fair.”
He laughed. “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski. Now you get out there and find those bitcoins.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”
I put a quarter in the siren. Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by public sidewalks. I hopped over them and went inside.
“Home Depot™ Presents the Police!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Ron Paul. “Nobody move unless you want to!” They didn’t.
“Now, which one of you punks is going to pay me to investigate this crime?” No one spoke up.
“Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of private property is the foundation of all personal liberty?”
It didn’t seem like they did.
“Seriously, guys. Without a strong economic motivator, I’m just going to stand here and not solve this case. Cash is fine, but I prefer being paid in gold bullion or autographed Penn Jillette posters.”
Nothing. These people were stonewalling me. It almost seemed like they didn’t care that a fortune in computer money invented to buy drugs was missing.
I figured I could wait them out. I lit several cigarettes indoors. A pregnant lady coughed, and I told her that secondhand smoke is a myth. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.
“Subway™ Eat Fresh and Freeze, Scumbag!®” I yelled.
Too late. He was already out the front door. I went after him.
“Stop right there!” I yelled as I ran. He was faster than me because I always try to avoid stepping on public sidewalks. Our country needs a private-sidewalk voucher system, but, thanks to the incestuous interplay between our corrupt federal government and the public-sidewalk lobby, it will never happen.
I was losing him. “Listen, I’ll pay you to stop!” I yelled. “What would you consider an appropriate price point for stopping? I’ll offer you a thirteenth of an ounce of gold and a gently worn ‘Bob Barr ‘08’ extra-large long-sleeved men’s T-shirt!”
He turned. In his hand was a revolver that the Constitution said he had every right to own. He fired at me and missed. I pulled my own gun, put a quarter in it, and fired back. The bullet lodged in a U.S.P.S. mailbox less than a foot from his head. I shot the mailbox again, on purpose.
“All right, all right!” the man yelled, throwing down his weapon. “I give up, cop! I confess: I took the bitcoins.”
“Why’d you do it?” I asked, as I slapped a pair of Oikos™ Greek Yogurt Presents Handcuffs® on the guy.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Afraid of an economic future free from the pernicious meddling of central bankers,” he said. “I’m a central banker.”
I wanted to coldcock the guy. Years ago, a central banker killed my partner. Instead, I shook my head.
“Let this be a message to all your central-banker friends out on the street,” I said. “No matter how many bitcoins you steal, you’ll never take away the dream of an open society based on the principles of personal and economic freedom.”
He nodded, because he knew I was right. Then he swiped his credit card to pay me.