With insurance men stuffing breast pockets with stacks of hundreds, America, cyclops of the West, once again turns its all-seeing eye towards revolution. From the tents of each latter-day Hooverville come the grunts and shouts of a frustrated nation, unsure of its future, desperate for the slush of a pre-9/11 empire.
But a horde with pickets is not a revolution. Even if this does turn out to be a bit of 1929-itis, a class revolution is unlikely, and here’s why:
In a huge country like America, moving important things by air has become the norm. Need to be somewhere tomorrow? You don’t get in a truck. And as long as pilots continue to make salaries in the hundred-thousand dollar range, it’s going to be difficult persuading them to join a proletariat movement. It’s going to be difficult to get them to join anything.
So while the internet may be the cradle of some new voice calling for searing, rending change in a partially zombified, partially reborn country, a revolution isn’t near.
Skills pay bills. Paid bills mean happy people. Happy people don’t revolt.
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