Deborah Wai Kapohe's song "American Clone" has been playing a lot on my irate radio lately.

From the mouth of a New Zealander.

Well, I guess if I lived in Middle Earth, I wouldn't be too appreciative of Mordor's exports either. Would you?

I'm contemplating whether I want to try and articulate some of the thoughts I've been having out life -- my life, especially -- or just leave them to keep simmering in the pot for a while longer.

At some point, I recall Ran Prieur stating something to the effect that he has spent most of his lifetime thinking, studying, and contemplating just to figure out out how to begin to articulate his vision, his worldview -- his paradigm, if you prefer that word -- in a way that others would be able to understand. Obviously, given the number of times I've cited his writings since I discovered his modest little site at the edge of the web, he managed to strike a chord with me.

I find myself in a similar struggle. How do I get these thoughts -- this way of approaching life that I still haven't finished forming -- across in a way that will make senes to other people?

...

Let's test a possible thesis. I'm not saying I even agree with it 100%, but I want to try it on to see how it fits, and then maybe adjust it. Money is inherently corrupt.

The Bible says "The love of money is the root of all evil." A related, but not identical statement.

To test either of the above statements, What is money? What, exactly, does it represent?

I like this definition, taken from Ran's quotes page.

"Money is an entitlement to someone else's labor."
- Stan Goff

Concise and to the point.

(For those who really want to get into the nitty gritty of how it all works, there are entire radio programs devoted to the studying the details. Highly recommended, if you have the time. I listened to many of them during my unemployed period.)

An entitlement to someone else's labor. It could be argued that this definition is faulty, so let me address the arguments that I can think of against its validity before proceeding further.

A skeptic might say that money does not entitle anyone to the labor of others, because people have a choice whether they want to work or not. You could offer someone a million dollars an hour, and they would still have the right to refuse the job.

Refutation: To whatever degree we depend on money for survival, it is a compulsion. That means that unless you have land on which you can grow all your own food, in an area where there are no property taxes whatsoever, you are also a slave of money to one degree or another. Someone else with money has an entitlement to your labor. (Or alternatively, your possessions, your body -- anything that can be exchanged.)

(slight tangent: Conservatives like to talk about ending "entitlement programs". If they were truly serious about this, they could start by taking their dollar bills into the streets and burning them. If everyone did this, it would put an end to the biggest entitlement program in the world.)

So far is this discussion, I have negleted a critical point, which critics have surely spotted already.

To a large extent, most of us need one another's labor in order to survive. Naysayers will point out that money merely facilitates this, and makes sure nobody is slacking. Thus, money -- the indirect exchange of goods and laber through use of an abstract placeholder of value known as "currency" -- helps us, right?

Money may be evil, but it is a necessary evil. It keeps the gears turning, and food on the table. End of argument.

There may be imperfectios in the way money is created, allocated, and inflated, but money itself is something we can't live without. The best we can hope for is to create local currencies to shield ourselves from the whims of global capital, and its inevitable cycles of boom, bust, deflation, hyperinflation, and all the rest.

Except for the nagging itch at the back of my mind that even if such a state of community autonomy were to be achieved, there is still a missing piece.

In Homesteading the Noosphere, ESR writes about the similarities between hacker culture and the gift economies of certain aboriginal tribes. He points out that gift cultures tend to thrive in environments where resources are abundant.

[Damn, I'm starting to get really sleepy, just as I get to the point where I build up to my thesis. I'm going to save this "as is", and hopefully I'll get around to finishing these thoughts later. My mind has just stopped working.]

P.S. Laying in bed for a moment allowed me to refocus my thoughts, so I'm back on for a bit. Briefly.

The problem with money is the entitlement factor. We may need one another's labor, but this should NOT mean that we all become slaves of everyone else -- which is effectively what money does. The old saying, "Live Free or Die" applies.

I want to decrease my dependence on money, not merely so that so that I don't have to work as much, but so that my work can be given to help others decrease their dependence on the monetary system.

Though I may be an idealist, I'm also a realist, so I know this is not going to happen 100% overnight -- or even in my lifetime, but it's not an all-or-nothing game. There are many increments, and some of them can be achieved today. Right now.

To the extent that human beings are able to recognize one another's value directly, money (or any form of "exchange") is an unnecessary hinderance. It distorts and clouds our vision.

We share Food, rather than Bombs, not out of any expectation that the act will be reciprocated (even though it often is), but because we recognize the inherent value of life. We must come to know that our deepest, most fundamental essence consists not of aggression, but compassion. Or so the Dalai Lama says. I believe him.

Keep your money. Store it away. Or toss it to the wind. Destroy it. I don't care. I don't want it. I want to understand you as a human being, rather than as a source out from which I can get some thing -- be it sex, food, or a freakin Subway punch card.

Yes, tired, now I will sleep. Then later, I spend the next 10 years doing as Ran did, figuring out how to express the thoughts in such a way that they might mean something to others too. That's my secret plan.

You must always have a secret plan. Everything depends on this: it is the only question. So as not to be conquered by the conquered territory in which you lead your life, so as not to feel the horrible weight of inertia wrecking your will and bending you to the ground, so as not to spend a single night more wondering what there is to do or how to connect with your neighbors and countrymen, you must make secret plans without respite. Plan for adventure, plan for pleasure, plan for pandemonium, as you wish; but plan, lay plans constantly.