We have always known that capitalism accumulates value by subtracting social value, experienced as alienation, disenchantment and dehumanization. But what has now become clear is the sheer pointlessness of our daily endeavours. A quest without end or rationale, slowly poisoning almost every aspect of our lives on the job and even afterwards when we think the daily grind is over. But, of course, it is
never
over.
Work and life become inseparable. Capital follows you when
you dream. Time ceases to be linear, becomes chaotic, broken
down into punctiform divisions. As production and distribution
are restructured, so are nervous systems. To function effectively
as a component of just–in-time production you must develop a
capacity to respond to unforeseen events, you must learn to live
in conditions of total instability, or ‘precarity’, as the ugly
neologism has it. Periods of work alternate with periods of
unemployment. Typically, you find yourself employed in a series
of short-term jobs, unable to plan for the future.
As long as I kept walking I didn't hear them, because of the footsteps. But as soon as I halted I heard them again, a little fainter each time, admittedly, but what does it matter, faint or loud, cry is cry, all that matters is that it should cease. For years I thought they would cease. Now I don;t think so any more. I could have done with other loves perhaps. But there it is, either you love or you don't.
