"To be, or not to be: that is the question." ...
You are not free, you are an experiment
By Txema García: You, who are reading this. You, who are beginning to feel that something isn't right. That the world has become hostile, that no one listens to you, that everything is designed for you to lose. You, who believe the far right has answers. That it points fingers, that it shouts what you keep quiet, that it promises "order" in the midst of chaos. Let me tell you something: they are using you. They are turning you into cannon fodder. Into a laboratory rat to perfect the most sophisticated regime of exploitation that history has ever known: the savage and rampant capitalism that rules the planet.
Every day you receive your share of alienation. In the job that doesn't fulfill you, in the salary that doesn't suffice, in the screen that distracts you. You have been taught to distrust the poor, the migrant, anyone who is different. They have convinced you that the enemy is below, when it has always been above. In the boards of directors, in the investment funds, in the transnational corporations that plunder resources and lives. In the algorithms that shape your thinking without you even noticing.
The far right doesn't want to free you. It wants to channel your rage to protect the true masters of the system. It offers you a false identity, a community based on hate, an epic that only serves to divide. While you scream against the "other," they continue to accumulate power. While you share confrontational memes, they design new forms of control. While you think you're waking up, they perfect your cage.
Your day begins before dawn. The alarm clock rings like an order. You don't get up: you unfold. You check your phone before opening your eyes. Notifications, headlines, offers, alarms. You're already in. The algorithm bids you good morning. It tells you what to think, what to fear, what to desire. You shower quickly, eat just the right amount of breakfast, and step out onto the street like someone entering an invisible factory.
Public transportation is a procession of dull faces. No one speaks. Everyone stares at screens. The real world has become staged. What's important happens elsewhere: in the feed, in the scroll, in the click. You arrive at work. It doesn't matter if it's an office, a warehouse, a classroom, a hospital. The pattern is the same: productivity, obedience, pretense. They ask you to smile, to perform, not to overthink. Not to question. Not to feel.
At lunchtime, you eat quickly, alone or with others who are also alone. You talk about soccer, TV shows, sales. Never about the system. Never about pain. Never about fear. Because that's not talked about. Because that doesn't sell. Because that's uncomfortable. You go back to work. You feel tired, but you don't know why. You haven't run, you haven't fought, you haven't created. You've only obeyed. You've only been useful.
When you leave, the algorithm awaits you. It offers you distraction, indignation, consumption. It tells you that the enemy is the migrant, the poor, the feminist, the queer. It pushes you to share hateful memes, to sign petitions that change nothing, to feel like you're participating without leaving your couch. Meanwhile, the true masters of the system—the investment funds, the military-industrial complexes, the extractive transnationals—continue to plunder the world. And you, unwittingly, do their dirty work.
You have dinner in a hurry. You watch something on a platform that decides for you. You go to bed with your phone in your hand. The last thing you see isn't the face of someone you love, but a screen that watches you. And when you sleep, your dreams are no longer your own. They are nightmares of success, of competition, of fear. You dream that you're late. That you don't perform. That you don't fit in. That you're not enough. The algorithm also schedules your rest.
And so, day after day, you become what they need: a docile body, a distracted mind, a manipulable emotion. You are not free. You are an experiment. A piece of data. A cog. And if you don't see it, you'll continue to be part of the problem.
But there is a way out. Not in hatred, not in nostalgia, not in "every man for himself." The way out lies in awareness. In cooperation. In disobedience. In the pedagogy that teaches you to think for yourself. In the left that doesn't sell out, that doesn't manage, that doesn't make deals with the algorithm. In the flotillas of freedom that are built from below, with bodies, with affections, with community.
Don't get caught. Don't become what they need. Don't confuse noise with truth. Don't confuse order with justice. Don't confuse belonging with submission.
The true revolution doesn't shout: it listens. It doesn't point: it embraces. It doesn't promise: it builds. And it starts with you. With me. For all of us. What are we waiting for to rebel?
Txema García, journalist and writer
This Song Around The World features Keith Richards in collaboration with Roberto Luti, Titi Tsira and a number of worldwide musicians on a rendition of his reggae song, "Words of Wonder," off 1992's Main Offender. This video also leads into a cover of Bob Marley's "Get Up, Stand Up," featuring Keb' Mo', Mermans Mosengo, Aztec Indians, Natalie Pa'apa'a of Blue King Brown, and Jamaican singer Sherita Lewis.
