The Autobiography of Rhys Southan

"Anarchist Vs. Anarchist" by Joseph Weisenthal and Rhys Southan (early 2001)

Sat, 05 Nov 2011 18:05:00 -0400

Together:
Anarchy, oh anarchy, it’s totally coercion free
We may disagree on what it’ll be, but it’s the best for you and me

Capitalist Anarchist:
Inefficiency and corruption are key aspects of the state
If the market were to protect your rights it’d be for a cheaper rate
It’s all about economics and theory of public choice
Unrestricted capitalism gives everyone a voice

Socialist Anarchist:
Capitalism is inherently flawed cause success comes on failure’s back.
The rich man has it all, while the failed man’s in the lack
I can see the future, I can see that it is good
But I can only do so, ‘cause on giants I’ve stood

Capitalist Anarchist:
Coercion is a commodity to be traded on the free market
There’s no difference between buying violence, and shoes you buy at Target
The state is an institution that has a monopoly on force
You ask, can we do this without them, and we respond, of course

Socialist Anarchist:
You think that the free market will cure all of our ills
And everyone will prosper and nobody will kill
But who is gonna grant the charters of incorporation
Those will disappear as soon as we destroy the nation

Together:
Anarchy, oh anarchy, it’s totally coercion free
We may disagree on what it’ll be, but it’s the best for you and me

Capitalist Anarchist:
Private courts and insurance will make sure life is fair
Contract law will still exist so don’t be getting scared
On page 13 of Bruce Benson’s Enterprise of Law
He proves that to ignore these facts is a fatal flaw

Socialist Anarchist:
Bruce Benson’s Enterprise of Law is unmitigated junk
Analogies to ancient tribes is certainly a load of bunk
They were bound by honor and the tradition of man
Like that fallacious utopia you call medieval Iceland

Capitalist Anarchist:
The hubris of the government claims to tell you what you need
But we can decide that for ourselves when all of us are freed
Privately run agencies are necessary for protection
If you can’t afford their dues, self-defense is your selection

Socialist Anarchist:
Who will be there to protect your car when we come with a crowbar and bash it
Who will be there to protect your daughter’s skull when we come with a bat and smash it
Who will be there to protect your house in the West Hills
Don’t give me that shit about P.E.As [note: Private Enforcement Agencies], it’s them we’re gonna kill

Capitalist Anarchist:
Why would you kill me when your labor you could sell
Destruction may seem fun at first, but trading is as well
We could be productive and we could all have wealth
The market is the only means for universal health

Socialist Anarchist:
How can there be capitalism without your beloved state
Without the fucking police no property right is safe
Everyone will share and give and lose their sense of identity
They’ll work in freedom and harmony for the benefit of everybody

Capitalist Anarchist:
Sharing is a noble goal, but it simply does not work
What about parasites and deviants and jerks?
If people want to keep their lives, they will pay for that right
There will always be evil thieves, but it’s them the free market fights

Socialist Anarchist:
You say that without the market there won’t be any incentive
But when you love your fellow man, it inspires you to be inventive
Instead of competition we will stress cooperation
Instead of fighting stupid wars, we will use arbitration

Capitalist Anarchist:
How will you achieve your socialist goals without authoritarinaism
You can only achieve equality with totalitarianism
Some people are objectively better than their fellow man
We should reward people not just for existing, but for doing what they can

Socialist Anarchist:
We’ll spread the wealth through many ways like vigilantism
There’ll be differences among us, like the colors of a prism
Everyone has his or her own place inside the rainbow
This is so damn obvious I can’t believe you didn’t know

Capitalist Anarchist:
Supply and demand dictates that order will ensue
It may not be centrally planned but we’ll all know what to do
In a tort based system of law, everyone is free
You can get away with murder as long as you pay a fee

Together:
Anarchy, oh anarchy, it’s totally coercion free
We may disagree on what it’ll be, but it’s the best for you and me

Ultimately it’s tough to say what anarchy will be
We’ll just have to get there, try it and then we’ll see
In fact maybe there could be many different forms
A lot of it may depend on pre-existing societal norms
Other factors may include altitude, climate and race
Tradition, geology, geography and tastes
Also you cannot forget the nature of the state’s devolution
Will it simply whither, sell off assets, or violent revolution
Until we get to this ideal anarchistic state
We must kill for this bright goal and now cooperate
Capitalists and socialists are standing hand in hand
Waiting for a chance to bring freedom to this land

Notes on "Unjustly Overlooked Classics in Fascist Cinema," a critique of Andy Anderson's "Detention"

Sat, 05 Nov 2011 16:36:52 -0400

Rhys -

Really great job with this draft! This is an interesting, insightful analysis. Most of my comments are local - see margins. A larger question I have concerns potential objections to your characterization of Texas public schools. You paint a very totalizing picture of a school system that has succeeded in stiffling student creativity and preventing free thought. And yet, you (I assume) and lots of other students have managed to come out of that system with your own ideas and the ability to critique the system that you characterize as an “authoritarian regime” that has done nothing but hurt students. Furthermore, I know for certain that, whatever the shortcomings of the system, there are many very good teachers and individuals in that system who do teach students how to think for themselves and really help them. By presenting such a one-sided picture, you risk alienating readers who might agree with you that the system has some major problems, but who choose to work from within the system for positive change. Power is rarely so totalizing as you make it seem, and your argument would benefit from a perspective that accounts for the forms of resistance to this system and its ideology as well as for the problems.

-JH

A Word From My Self-Concept

Sat, 05 Nov 2011 16:36:44 -0400

Rhys Southan
Health I
8-26-96

Overall, I feel good about myself. In school I get satisfying grades, but that may directly relate to the fact that I didn’t take any classes that seemed unnecessary or overwhelming. I also only have six classes this year, so I can spend more time getting the homework finished. The classes that I did take, for the most part, were interesting to me, or seemed important. Therefore, I don’t harbor any negative feelings about teachers, the school district, or me as a student. Although, every once in a while, I feel guilty for not taking any classes like calculus or physics that would have been more challenging. I guess I’ll have to take classes like that in college, but for my chosen career path, knowledge on those subjects is near to useless.

My family encourages me on the things I like to do, so that helps. My mom convinced me to “call into work late” so that I could go to theatre callbacks. My dad honestly congratulated me when I got an internship at the Met. Simply put, I rarely get unnecessarily constrained.

To feel better about myself, and my talents, I write. I took a screenplay writing class two summers ago, and learned a lot. Now and again, I still go to discussions and reading with other writers at my screenplay writing instructor’s house. As I mentioned earlier, I like to do theatre. It brings me together with other people, and is a fun way to express myself. When I get a part or anything, of course I feel better about myself, but if I don’t get a part, I am never too disappointed, because I realize that there is a negative even to getting casted. It’s very time consuming, and I would have to reschedule my working hours around it. Also, I am self-aware that I can always do better “next time,” and that it’s not all bad.

All together, my self esteem is impeccable.

Rhys "J" Southan: Open Christmas, 2006. DO NOT MAIL

Fri, 04 Nov 2011 02:11:12 -0400

Oct. 25, 1996

Dear Rhys (or whatever you have renamed yourself),

Welcome to the present. It is now the 21st century and I imagine gene splicing is running rampant. No matter, I hope you are now somewhat of an important presence in the field of film, or the futuristic equivalent of film.

Let me remind you of the incidents surrounding the time of this writing which is building up to your desired fate. It is now nearing election time and the real race is between Clinton and Dole. It looks undoubtable that Clinton will win, but you support neither. I support Mary Cal Hollis, the [Democratic] Socialist Party candidate. Obviously she doesn’t have a chance, but maybe in your time (if you opened this when you should have - Oct. 25, 2006), [Democratic] Socialism is the new government system in America, or at least the SP is more high profile.

Back to me, I am in my senior year at Berkner High, and have aspirations to become a screenwriter. I haven’t been to student-aiding Harry Preston for almost a year, but soon that will change with your work in progress. “Man Vs. Society: A Love Story” or “How to be Unpopular,” whichever title you stick with. I’m sure I would have gone by now if it wasn’t for working at the torture pit, Best Buy. My short term goal is to quit working there and start concentrating on my writings and my T-Shirt line, Trendy Sheepwear ©™®. Maybe you’re rich from the sale of T-shirts, and if you are, you better not have joined the ranks of those T-shirt makers you make fun of. If so, shame on you! Is that how I raised you? No.

Good.

Another aspiration I have for you is that you not get married. But if you must, it better be such an unexpected marriage as to get you on talk shows (If they still exist in this high-tech world of yours). As for having kids, it is your duty. I know you don’t want to but you must spread your golden DNA under any means possible, but if gene splicing really has taken the world by storm, people will be begging you to sell them your DNA pattern so they can fashion the rest of humans after you. I suggest you do it, but the only problem is that your goal to be unique would be shattered. Unless your near-clones would be so intent on being unique that they would rebel against themselves.

MM: [crossed out].

Just last night your Viewer’s Thumb was on Siskel & Ebert, and Siskel seemed to agree with you more. Harry Preston just called and my interview about movies was played on Sunday. Hopefully at this point in your life you’re actually involved in the making of movies rather than just the critiquing of them.

What else? You be the judge.

Sincerely,

Rhys Southan

How to Have a Thick Skin

Wed, 15 Jun 2011 21:00:00 -0400

Step 1. To dull the sting after a mean comment, your automatic reaction should be that the comment says more about the comment-maker than it says about you. Remember that they are not saying this about the real you (if such a thing exists), but the you that they perceive.

Step 2. If you can psychologically detach from the conflict like that, negative comments are easy to shrug off. However, if you remained at that step, you would never learn from legitimate criticism. The second thing you should do is figure out why the person said this.

Step 3. If the comment had no basis in reality, was only intended to cause you pain, was based on a misunderstanding, or was about something you have no control over, then it’s meaningless. Ignore it. If, on the other hand, there is something real to the comment, it could merit further consideration.

Step 4. If the comment was coming from an honest place, or at least partially honest, the question becomes whether you disagree with the comment and have good reason for doing so, or if you should take the comment to heart and change in some way. If you disagree, articulate to yourself why you disagree — why your behavior, statement or trait being criticized is the way it is and should stay that way. If it’s merely a disagreement, there is nothing for you to be upset about. It’s just a difference in opinion.

Step 5. If the person making the rude comment is right, make the appropriate adjustments.

Poem: "I Guess"

Mon, 09 May 2011 12:54:00 -0400

I guess you have an interesting life and that you wouldn’t trade it for anyone else’s;

I guess you’re a weirdo, but not an unlikable one;

I guess there are people who care about you even if you never see them;

I guess you’ll find your way and be happy;

I guess at the end, you won’t think, “Well that was an enormous waste of time.”

I guess it’s good that you’re here;

I guess.

Other Superstitious Causes of Bad Luck

Sat, 07 May 2011 13:30:00 -0400

Walking under a ladder, breaking a mirror, stepping on a crack and spilling salt are behaviors best avoided because of the detrimental effect they have on future luckiness. Here are some others:

* Falling off a bridge (4 years bad luck)

* Flicking a wasp’s nest (9 months bad luck)

* Going all in with a 7/2 against pocket aces with two aces and a king on the flop (100 years bad luck)

* Swallowing whole chicken bones (2 weeks bad luck)

* Bringing a fake bomb to an airport (12 years bad luck)

* Speeding on icy roads in a jalopy with no seat belt (7 weeks bad luck)

* Walking on a tightrope between two tall buildings when you have no tightrope walking experience and are drunk (1 year bad luck)

* Getting lost in a dangerous neighborhood at night, finding an ATM and withdrawing your entire bank account, and then holding the money in the air as you wander the streets, pleading for assistance (11 months bad luck)

* Throwing a heavy rock in the air and then seeing if you can run and stand right where it’s going to land (16 years bad luck)

* Insulting somebody’s group identity when their group identity is notorious for killing people who insult it (9 years bad luck)

* Diving into a volcano, wearing only a thin jacket (1 minute bad luck)

My Zygote

Wed, 29 Jul 2009 13:18:00 -0400

It is forbidden to love you,
You product of our genes;
When Chloe held you on her finger,
You were more than what you seemed.

“What do you think this is?”
She asked me of your fleshy, warped pink skin;
“A scabby speck of blood,” I yawned coldly,
“You’re shocked you’ve had a period yet again?”

“I show you all my periods,” she stammered,
“You should know none look like this.”
“Maybe you have cancer,” I offered,
“Or an infected veiny cyst.”

“We prayed I wasn’t pregnant.
This speck proves our fear was true.”
I unleashed a cynical, sinister smirk and spat:
“More likely that I ably fucked your G-spot out of you.”

My answer might’ve pained her,
But if she winced, I didn’t see;
Her tears had dried before they’d fallen,
Crumbling salty crystals that looked like dust to me.

“This was to be our unwanted child,” she murmured.
“The unplanned culmination of you and me;
We’d have taught her all our viewpoints,
We’d have told her what to read.”

“I shouldn’t be such a lush,” she whispered.
“I could have been a better host;
That insecurity coursing through me,
That’s what turned our mishap to a ghost.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she choked,
But then apparently changed her mind;
Her thumb shot up, then it crashed down,
That’s when I knew I’d been so blind!

Seeing your gooey pale core blast past your soft shell,
Even Vesalius would faint dead;
It was Zygote Munchausen Syndrome!
Infanto-Gynocide right to the head!

“What did you do?!”
I screamed with passion when I finally realized,
“He was our zygote, half you/half me,
But mostly me - he had my eyes!”

Her attention strayed from me,
Though my attention she was after;
She held her digits to the sunlight,
Illuminating your dismembered, disrupted, splatter.

“This could have been your brain,” Chloe said,
“A mind full of madness and hate;
Your spine was rubbery,
Your casing blubbery,
A life spent hiding, you’d never mate.

“If a boy, you’d be a rapist,
If a girl you’d be a whore,
Your body would be ugly,
And doubtlessly deformed.

“I wonder if you had a soul, then again, it couldn’t have come from me,
And James, even if he had one, is too cheap to spread it in his seed;
No, you would have been a monster, miscarrying justice and harmony,
And so I miscarried you, you fiend, to save the world and keep us free.”

At the time I thought she meant it,
I didn’t doubt her spiteful barrage;
Demeaning everything with value,
“Put down that stupid ancient scroll. Let’s sniff glue in my garage!”

“If eyes are the windows to the soul,” I shrieked,
“Eye sockets are the holes to the brain;
If your vacant orbs weren’t blocking them,
I’d see your chemicals wishing me pain.

“You took pleasure in popping part of me,
The only half of us worth saving;
And don’t say it was to hurt yourself,
Self-worship is your ceaseless craving.”

“Abortion’s so expensive,” she laughed.
“Be glad we saved 200 bucks;
We’d have named it something stupid,
I bet we would have called it Jervuck.”

“Okay, enough with all the slander,” I cried.
“I can fill the blanks myself;
‘You’re no child of God, dead one,
You’re a gargoyle straight from hell!’”

“Make your choice!” she challenged me.
“Just out of curiosity;
Would you bring our zygote back,
If it put me crushed on your pinky?”

“Here I should tread carefully,” thought I.
“She always sets a trap.”
How swiftly I lost my own advice,
And tripped a thousand fatal snaps!

“There are things I like about you,” I mused,
“That I can’t deny;
Your upturned nose corrects my flat nose,
Your optimism outshines my sighs.

“My skin, it’s full of pockmarks,
My language skills are weak at best;
Your face is glowing, it’s so flawless,
You speak Basque and Japanese and you were born in Bucharest.

“But when people thought you were my sister,
Is when I most felt swells of pride;
When it appeared we were related,
That’s when I knew you’d be my bride.

“Yes I’ve always wished I had a twin,
A second me to call my own;
He’d understand my every move,
A cheat through life — we’d pave our world with Styrofoam;
Yet sometimes…. now… when I look at you?
I see more alien than clone.

“Your hair, it lacks my reddish tinge,
Your chin’s not dimple-free like mine;
Your eyes are blue, that’s true at least,
But not pure blue, tragically…
Yellow freckles the bane of thine.

“Sure, that’s not so bad, you claim,
When most couples think opposites attract;
But now I’ve seen true love close up,
And still see it — squished on your finger, in fact.

“This fluke might have had your jagged teeth,
It could have lacked my assertive drive;
But one thing’s indisputable:
It was more like me than you are,
Even though it was never alive.

“I knew my zygote for a second,
It was translucent, damp potentiality;
But my love for it eclipses my love for you,
And your opaque, half-baked reality.”

“This will end us,” Chloe gasped.
So I thought I’d prove her wrong;
The rest of our courtship, however,
Was awkward, painful, and not so very long.

We took field trips to museums,
And watched fetuses develop from jar to jar;
You were a one-of-a-kind creation,
But Phase Two – that soggy, wrinkled splotch - wasn’t very far.

Chloe and I drifted apart, nevertheless,
All along our only purpose was you;
Which means we had no purpose at all then,
Cause we’d have sucked your brains out with a vacuum tube.

Let’s say you would have made it, though,
Fought against all we could throw;
Amazing you got as far as you did,
Swimming upstream ‘gainst booze, nicotine,
And ill-timed birth control.

“It’s a pleasure and a right to be here,”
Would have been your first words to the world;
A world giddy to crush that excitement,
With bureaucracy, rashes, obligation, headaches, gravity;
(All that boring shit it hurls.)

You’ll never get to be circumcised,
Or have your first bloody period in class;
I’d have beat my recessive traits out of you:
Vicarious living, yes,
You’d have paid for the pain of my past.

In a sense, death might have saved you,
Your life, it could have been quite bland;
Chloe thinks you’d be a dictator,
But you might have been just any man.

I’ll never forget you, young one,
And though your days were few,
We knew you better than real parents know their grown children;
Oh, to hold you in my hand and poke you.

You were a silly putty creature,
A life without a face,
A spongy giant blood-clot,
To our families, a disgrace.

A menstrual-battling action-figure Chloe found in her underwear;
I loved you more for my flaws than her perfections;
Off of your pink glisten,
I saw the reflection of my tangled hair.

- By Rhys Southan