Freedom has always come with asterisks, footnotes, and apologetic parentheticals. There is no total freedom; we are bound by causality, space, physics, time, ability, location, background, wealth, the limited freedoms of others. Yet, there are small freedoms every day in the choices we make, consciously or unconsciously, and in the infinite choices we choose not to make. Corporations, politicians, video bloggers, door-to-door salesmen will all try to manipulate that choice, but ultimately the power lies with you and the values you hold. You can impact this world, destroy infinite possibilities and create infinite more. So be vigilant. Understand yourself. Learn why you think in the ways you do and whether those thoughts line up with the kind of person you want to be. Because in a lonely world without inherent meaning, we have a responsibility to build our own meaning from the bottom up, through love, works, fighting for justice. Don’t let the wealthy and powerful define that meaning for you and maybe, just maybe, you can claim your freedom.

After All,

It’s Only Business

And Business is Closed.

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The docks had been closed for months now, its runners knee deep in one of the last and most powerful labor strikes in the city. No scab dared cross the picket line, the union bosses cold as ice and deeply respected by their allies. But as infrastructure in the city became ever more unwieldy, and liquid cash became easier than ever for the ever-larger shipping companies to dredge up, they simply didn’t need scab workers anymore. They had scab industries. Boatloads of shipping containers slowly moved from idle docks to scores of self-driving double-decker big rigs that clogged the arteries of highway travel. They moved to ever larger airshipping fleets, specializing in short-term contract deals that took up airport gates at random. They moved to new contracts demanding the receiving companies come pick it up themselves. And in special interest story after special interest story, the cable news shows mourned the losses of the average American at the hands of this noble yet thuggish strike. They didn’t need the dock workers anymore. But cutting ties wasn’t enough. They had to make it hurt.

After all,

It’s Only Business.

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It was the same as it had always been. “Open enough boxes of Cracker Jack” became “use your decoder goggles,” which became “get a full set of hidden stickers,” which became “scan the right QR code.” And always for a prize that could be, but was statistically unlikely to be, a higher cost than the variable number of items purchased to earn it. A model that manipulated dopamine, cultivated a sense of wonder, and perhaps most importantly, held statistically lower volatility and risk for larger-scale operations. Yet another model that slowly, insidiously, by law of averages, moved wealth up the chain to the toy megacorporations and conglomerates that set the market’s path. But it wasn’t a bad deal for the buyer. It let parents use the money they got from working at those corporations to provide moments of happiness for their children, while paying back into the system that put food on their table. And when it comes down to it, what market need could be more important than putting a smile on a child’s face?

After all,

It’s only business.

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