The Conspiracy Against the Human Race

I know I listed my top five favorite books and two books that changed my life, but there’s another one that deserves recognition: Thomas Ligotti’s The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. I’d been wanting this book for a while after seeing the first season of True Detective and after considering myself an anti-natalist. I was looking for any kind of anti-natalist literature and lo and behold, I found it.

This book is a philosophical gut punch that argues human consciousness is a cosmic mistake. Ligotti draws from horror, neuroscience, and pessimism and makes the case that existence is inherently horrific, the self is an illusion, and the kindest act would be to stop reproducing.

It’s a deep but deeply thought-provoking exploration of pessimism, anti-natalism, and the horror of consciousness. A few take aways from it are as follows:

Consciousness is a curse. Ligotti argues that self-awareness–what sets humans apart from animals–is not a gift but a burden. We’re aware of our mortality, our suffering, and the meaninglessness of existence. “Being alive is like being a sentient tumor.”

Life is inherently horrific. He draws from horror fiction and philosophy and suggests that horror is the most honest genre because it doesn’t shy away from the ugly truth: life is terrifying, random, and cruel.

Anti-Natalism is a logical response. He builds on David Bentar (another man I admire)’s arguments to suggest that the kindest thing we could do is stop reproducing. He believes, much like Benatar and I do, that bringing someone into existence is always a harm. As he says in the book, “Nonexistence never hurt anyone.”

The illusion of self and meaning. Ligotti sides with thinkers who believe the self is an illusion and that the narratives we tell ourselves: religion, humanism, even optimism are coping mechanisms, not truth.

The book offers no comfort. There’s no “and yet” at the end. There’s no redemption arc. Ligotti commits to the darkness. The value is in the clarity it offers–cutting through hope to stare directly at what existence may really be.

It’s a cold shower of a book. It won’t give you hope, but it might give you clarity, or at least solidarity in despair.

If Libertarian Socialists Reject Electoral Policies

… how do they expect to get things done?

Their goal isn’t to take over the state and reform it, but to build alternatives to it such as:

Dual power structures such as community mutual aid, worker cooperatives, and tenant unions that meet people’s needs outside the capitalist system and slowly replace it. Also, they’re more for strikes, blockades, occupations, and sabotage–anything that directly disrupts unjust systems or forces change without begging those in power.

We believe in building the world we want now in how we organize–democratic, non-hierarchical so that the means align with the ends. Also, some of us believe that when capitalist structures inevitably fail or crack (due to crisis, climate collapse, etc.) grassroots structures can scale up and step in.

Electoral politics are a trap designed to absorb radical energy into endless compromise and bureaucracy, rather than truly change the system. Trying to win power within a corrupt system just legitimizes it.

That said, some of us are pragmatic and support limited electoral strategies–like voting to stop fascists or pushing for policies that give people breathing room to organize like voting for eviction moratoriums while building tenant unions.

Official Member of the Democratic Socialists of America

I recently received my membership card from the Democratic Socialists of America. I also donate a few bucks a month to this organization. Now, you may be saying, “But Kafkaphony, you’re a Libertarian Socialist. What’s this about?”

Well, libertarian socialists don’t have a website because they are more decentralized by nature. Libertarian socialists are inherently suspicious of centralized power–even in organizations. So creating a single “official” website or group is contradictory to a lot in the movement. Also, the DSA has membership dues, elected leadership, and is involved in electoral politics. Libertarian socialists reject those kinds of structures, which means they lack the resources to build or maintain polished sites or public campaigns.

So, how can I be a libertarian socialist and donate to the DSA? I like to work within the DSA for strategic reasons. The DSA is a “big tent” and includes: Marxists, social Democrats, Democratic socialists (obviously), libertarian socialists, and even some anarchists and syndicalists.

The DSA is a vehicle, not an identity. It’s a way to build power, influence policy, and meet like-minded people, even if the ultimate goal (like abolishing the state or capitalism entirely) goes beyond what the DSA is currently pushing.

I prefer to use the DSA to push for reforms that improve people’s lives now, even if the long-term goal is revolution or abolition of hierarchies. I use it for organizing opportunities like meeting people who might be down for more radical actions outside of the DSA. It’s also for learning skills, gaining political, experience, and building networks.

There will be disagreements between the two though. The DSA sometimes supports electoral politics, which some libertarian socialists reject. However, it’s the best we’ve got right now. I don’t have to buy into the DSA’s entire platform.

I plan on using the DSA to connect with organizers, practice power building, and to push for transformative demands, but I’m always keeping my eye on the bigger picture: dismantling capitalism, hierarchy, and the state–not just reforming them. I’m looking for shared goals and ways to push the DSA further left by putting theory into action.

What I Learned from Malcolm X

I’ve just finished The Autobiography of Malcolm X today. It took me a week to read it and I loved every page. We weren’t taught much about Malcolm X in school, more about people like Rosa Parks and MLK. So I was interested in reading about him for myself, but I also wondered, “What can I, a white, Southern person learn from a black man from Harlem?” The answer is quite a bit.

The book is a deep exploration of power, transformation, and systemic oppression. As a white person, here are some of my takeaways:

Malcolm X detailed how racism is woven into American institutions, from schools to the legal system. Seeing it from his perspective exposed blind spots I never noticed before. These issues are still going on today and the Civil Rights movement ended decades ago.

The book makes it clear that racism isn’t just about personal prejudice but a system that shapes people’s lives from birth. Malcolm X’s experiences with teachers, the criminal justice system, and media narratives all reinforce this. The criminal justice system is still, in 2025 wrought with prejudice against those of color and the poor.

I always just thought Malcolm X was a racist who hated white people, but I’ve learned he was so much more than that. His rage at white America wasn’t irrational–it was a response to generations of oppression. His story forced me to confront the reasons behind that anger instead of dismissing it.

His transformation from a hustler to a political leader showed me the power of self-education. As I become more politically involved and lean more into libertarian socialism, I’m learning more and more about the power of self-education. It shows that there’s a lesson in there that people can change, including how we perceive race and privilege and politics.

Malcolm X’s views evolved over time, just as mine have. He went from being against white America until his pilgrimage to Mecca. He started with a hard separatist perspective but later saw the potential for solidarity across racial lines. That evolution is crucial–realizing that no single perspective is fixed.

Lastly, while Malcolm X was skeptical of white allies, he also acknowledged that some could play a role in dismantling white supremacy. His challenge to white people was to do the work among other white people rather than expecting praise from black activists.

Ultimately, the book isn’t just about race. It’s about seeing the world as it really is, questioning power, and committing to real change. I think if you read it with an open mind as I did, it can be a transformative experience.

Two Books That Changed My Life

I know I posted my top five favorite books, but I thought I’d post the two books that changed my life in impactful ways and discuss them a little. Coincidentally, they’re both from my top five list.

The Stranger by Albert Camus has affirmed my sense of absurdity. Meursault (main character)’s indifference, his refusal to feign emotion for society’s sake resonates with my own misanthropy. His detachment from norms helped me feel less alien in a world that demands people fake performances of meaning and morality. The book’s cold eye on things like funerals, justice, and religion strengthened my distrust in institutions, and it gave me permission to question the systems we’re told to respect–even if they’re hollow.

Camus’ exploration of life’s absurdity–the idea that existence lacks inherent meaning–has sharpened my anti-natalist views that bringing new life into a meaningless, and often cruel world is unethical. Life isn’t a gift. It’s an imposition.

Meursault doesn’t pretend to be anything but himself, even when it might save him. That’s the kind of integrity I aspire to, even if it makes me weird. As far as the ending of the book–Meursault accepting the absurd and facing death without illusions–it mirrors my own attempt to live authentically in a chaotic world.

The Myth of Sisyphus, also by Albert Camus, had an even deeper influence on me than The Stranger. It gave me a way to live with absurdity. Before Camus, absurdity felt like a huge weight, a realization that life has no inherent meaning and that could easily lead to despair and eventually suicide. This book showed me another path: instead of seeking meaning or collapsing under nihilism, I can simply accept life’s absurdity and keep pushing forward.

It also reinforced my rejection of false hope. Camus’ critique of “philosophical suicide”–the way people escape absurdity through religion, ideology, or forced optimism–resonated with me deeply. I refuse to cling to comforting illusions, whether it’s capitalism’s promises or religious dogmas. I used to suppress illusions with drugs and alcohol. Now, I choose to face reality, no matter how bleak.

It has also helped with my political views. Sisyphus’s struggle isn’t just personal, it’s an act of defiance. Pushing the boulder, knowing it will never stay at the top, mirrors my approach to wanting to fight capitalism. I’m aware the system is monstrous, victories are temporary, but I choose to fight anyway, and not because I expect some final triumph, but because the struggle itself is worth it.

And lastly, it aligns with my misanthropy and humor. My messing with people politically and my sense of humor fit within Camus’ absurdist outlook. I want to weaponize absurdity and turn meaninglessness into a playground.

Why I Hate Capitalism

I hate capitalism because I see it as an exploitative system that prioritizes profit over people, rewards hoarding over fairness, and creates needless suffering. I don’t just dislike capitalism in theory, I see its effects everywhere, from healthcare failures to economic inequality, and it pisses me off.

I’m trying to actively challenge it through writing, memes, protesting, and writing to various activists and politicians. And let’s be real: capitalism’s defenders annoy the hell out of me with their smug certainty that the system is “natural” or “the best we can do.” It’s not just about economics; it’s about control, injustice, and a system that refuses to let people live with dignity.

The rich keep getting richer and the poor keep getting poorer. And every time someone points it out, capitalists scramble to say, “Actually, poverty has decreased globally!” as if that justifies billionaires hoarding obscene wealth while workers struggle to afford rent. The system is rigged so wealth concentrates at the top, and instead of fixing it, people are told to work harder, invest smarter, or stop buying lattes.

Meanwhile, billionaires can tank entire economies, exploit workers, and dodge taxes with no consequences. The only thing that trickles down is misery. I’m right to hate it. The real question is: what’s the next move?

The Birthrate Hustle

The push to “raise the birthrate” is less about family values or national stability and more about propping up capitalism’s endless growth model. Governments and corporations rely on an ever-expanding population to sustain economic activity–more workers to exploit, more consumers to buy products, and more taxpayers to fund government programs. Without constant growth, capitalist economies risk stagnation, making population decline a crisis for those in power. Instead of restructuring economic systems to be sustainable, leaders push policies that encourage higher birthrates to keep the machine running.

At its core, this operates like a Ponzi scheme. Just as a Ponzi scheme depends on new investors to pay off old ones, modern economies depend on new generations to sustain older ones. Pensions and even stock market growth hinge on a steady influx of young workers. If birthrates decline, these systems falter. So instead of addressing economic inequality or automation’s potential to reduce reliance on human labor, government and corporations double down on growth-at-all-costs policies, pushing more births to delay the inevitable collapse.

The problem is that infinite growth isn’t possible on a finite planet. Resources are limited, and as populations rise, environmental destruction accelerates. Yet capitalism refuses to adjust, treating population growth as a short-term fix rather than an unsustainable gamble. Instead of questioning whether we need more people to feed this system, we should be questioning the system itself. Because in the long run, the real crisis isn’t declining birthrates; it’s capitalism’s refusal to function without them.

Does Socialism Mean that Everyone Will be Poor?

One of the most common myths about socialism is that it makes everyone equally poor. It’s a talking point used to scare people away from the idea of economic justice, but it’s far from the truth. In reality, socialism isn’t about dragging everyone down. It’s about lifting everyone up.

What is Socialism Really About?

At its core, socialism is about making sure wealth and resources are distributed more fairly. It doesn’t mean no one can be successful or that everyone has to live in the same conditions. Instead, it prioritizes meeting basic human needs–like healthcare, education, and housing–so that no one is left behind while a small elite hoards obscene amounts of wealth.

Under capitalism, wealth tends to concentrate at the top, leaving millions struggling to get by. In contrast, socialist policies aim to level the playing field by ensuring that the economy  serves the majority, not just the privileged few.

But Won’t That Lead to Poverty?

This is where the misconception comes in. Critics argue that socialism discourages innovation and hard work, leading to economic stagnation. But history shows otherwise. Many countries that have adopted socialist policies–especially in areas like healthcare, worker protections, and public services–have some of the highest standards of living in the world.

Take the Nordic countries, for example. While they’re not fully socialist, they implement strong socialist policies: universal healthcare, free education, and robust social safety nets, The result? High wages, low poverty, and some of the happiest populations on the planet.

Who Really Stays Rich Under Capitalism?

If you’re worried about socialism making you poor, ask yourself: Is capitalism actually making you rich? For most people, the answer is no. Wages have stagnated while billionaires multiply their fortunes. Basic necessities like housing, education, and healthcare are increasingly out of reach for the average person.

Socialism doesn’t mean equal poverty. It means ensuring that wealth isn’t locked away by a tiny elite while the rest of society struggles. It’s about making sure the economy works for all of us, not just those born into wealth and power.

At the end of the day, the real question isn’t whether socialism will make everyone poor. It’s whether we’re okay with an economic system that keeps most people struggling while a handful live in unimaginable luxury.

Elon Musk’s Breeding Fetish

I’ve always thought Elon Musk has a creepy breeding fetish. Hey, I’m all for fetishes, let that freak flag fly, but not when it comes to bringing more people into the world. Blow your load into someone all you want as long as she’s on birth control or you’ve had a vasectomy. Aside from that? Wear a condom or don’t have sex at all. Contrary to what Apartheid Clyde says, we don’t need more people on this planet.

His obsession with population growth seems to stem from his belief that declining birth rates in developed countries could lead to a societal and economic collapse. He has repeatedly expressed concern that a “collapse” of civilization could occur if the global birth rates continue to fall. I say let the collapse happen. We as a society, we as civilization have failed miserably. This little homo sapien experiment didn’t work. Destroy all of it and either start over or don’t. I’ll be dead and won’t care one way or the other.

Apartheid Clyde’s neediness for wanting others to breed and his own having fourteen kids doesn’t have to do with anything altruistic for the planet or civilization. There are several problems with his obsession with birth rates:

It ignores environmental limits. The planet is already struggling with overpopulation in terms of resource consumption, pollution, and climate change. Pushing for more births ignores the ecological consequences of an ever-growing human footprint.

His stance also aligns with capitalist concerns about shrinking labor forces and economic stagnation rather than a genuine concern for human flourishing. A declining population could be beneficial in terms of resource distribution, quality of life, and sustainability. Also, if Apartheid Clyde truly believes in AI and automation replacing human labor, then a shrinking workforce shouldn’t be a problem. His push for higher birth rates contradicts his own predictions about technological advances reducing the need for human workers.

It’s also easy for a billionaire with immense resources to advocate for having many children. Most people don’t have the luxury to provide for large families in a world where wages stagnate, housing costs soar, and healthcare remains inaccessible.

There’s also an authoritarian aspect to his desire for population growth. His rhetoric could feed into dangerous population policies, where governments or societies pressure people into having children against their will. Historically, state-driven population growth policies have led to human rights abuses, especially against women.

And what about us that are already here? Why not focus on improving conditions for existing people–healthcare, education, workers’ rights, and wealth redistribution–Apartheid Clyde fixates on increasing birth rates as its quantity is more important than the quality of life.

Civilization isn’t doomed, as he seems to think. The whole “civilization collapse” is a myth. Societies can adapt through better resource management, immigration, and restructuring economic models rather than resorting to a blind push for more births.

Ultimately, Apartheid Clyde’s obsession seems less about genuine human well-being and more about maintaining a system that benefits people like him–billionaires who can rely on endless economic expansion, cheap labor, and a future workforce to exploit.

Lottery of the Afterlife

The moment Arthur died, he found himself in an infinite white void.

“Oh,” he said. “This is unexpected.”

A voice boomed from nowhere and everywhere. “WELCOME TO THE AFTERLIFE.”

Arthur squinted. “So there is an afterlife?”

“YES.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“IS IT?” The voice sounded almost amused. “YOU ARE NOW SUBJECT TO THE GREAT COSMIC LOTTERY.”

Arthur frowned. “The what now?”

“THE SYSTEM OF ARBITRARY REASSIGNMENT. YOUR ESSENCE WILL BE RANDOMLY ALLOCATED TO AN EXISTENCE. COULD BE HUMAN AGAIN. COULD BE A FUNGUS. COULD BE A CONSCIOUS BLACK HOLE. NO MEANING TO IT. JUST SPINS AND ASSIGNS.”

Arthur blinked. “What happens if I refuse?”

“REFUSE?” The voice actually chuckled. “THAT’S ADORABLE.”

A massive celestial wheel materialized before Arthur, labeled with everything from “Emperor of a Galactical Civilization” to “Single-Celled Amoeba.” A rotting rat carcass was also on the list. The wheel spun.

Arthur sighed. “So there’s no grand purpose? No final revelation? No reunion with loved ones?”

“NOPE. JUST THE SPIN.”

“And if I get something terrible?”

“YOU’LL EXPERIENCE IT. AND THEN YOU’LL DIE AGAIN. AND YOU’LL SPIN AGAIN. FOREVER.”

Arthur sighed, then laughed. “Alright. Might as well enjoy the ride.”

“THAT’S THE SPIRIT!”