The Humble Libertarian original

This one goes out to all the students grade slaves who had to start a new week of school today. You are beautiful and worthy and good, and if you feel lonely or alienated or looked over or not understood, all that confusion and angst isn't your fault. You're feeling it because you're good and you know intuitively that all the crushing weight of the rigid system around you and the bullshit social pressures are not the way life should be or has to be. I love you and I think you are wonderful. "Subdivisions" Lyrics Sprawling on the fringes of the city In geometric order An insulated border In between the bright lights And the far unlit unknown Growing up it all seems so one-sided Opinions all provided The future pre-decided Detached and subdivided In the mass production zone Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone [Chorus:] (Subdivisions) In the high school halls In the shopping malls Conform or be cast out (Subdivisions) In the baseme...

Saw this on Davi Barker 's Facebook page last night: "We've heard a lot about how compulsory schooling harms the natural enthusiasm to learn, as well as the unspoken lessons of the Prussian system. I've heard a lot of people discuss how forced association leads to bullying. But I have never heard anyone discuss to effects of compulsory schooling and forced association on broken hearts. Think about a highschool from a biological standpoint. It is for practical purposes a cage in which society throws people who are biologically, and by any pre-modern standard, adults. They are trapped there for six hours a day, locked in a room with 30+ other adults, arbitrarily selected by age. They are at the peak of their emotional and hormonal volatility. And they are told to devote their undivided attention to education. This is very bad chemistry. Inevitably relationships form, adding more volatility. Love, lust, jealousy, rage. Explosive emotions, probably experienced for th...

I loved you, prison guard. I know you loved me. I had no choice and no escape from the cinder block walls for an eternity of those bright adolescent hours that should have been all mine to have and to hold for better or worse and spend in brilliant bursts of godlike play that could have only made it better. But in that dreary prison place, I felt that I had yet escaped from some even darker, more sickly and sorrowful hole, and that you, my prison guard, were at least some fashion of a mother to me.