On Existential Mystery and Robber Barons Masked as People's Reformers
No robber baron is entitled to hijacking our connection to the world.
This story is about philosophy. It is also about the history of my people and the Great Reset.
I find it awe-inspiring how our individual circumstance and emotions are shaped by history that spans centuries and generations. History shapes us through our parents, and their parents, and their parents, and major historical events, and kings and robber barons from a long time ago whose individual desires compelled them to go to war or to enforce reforms… and as a result of all those things that had happened since time immemorial, we end up being born into a particular reality—and as we live, we are tasked with unwrapping the mystery, separating lies from the truth, and figuring out who we are and why we are here.
When I was a toddler, I was taught that prior to the bolshevik revolution, things in Russia were horrible—and that the bolsheviks showed up as righteous saviors, saved the workers and the peasants—and from that point on, everyone lived happily ever after (minus the war, of course).
As a kid, I had no reason to question that story—and so I wrote my poems about “dear Lenin” and peace on earth, as well as retrospectively embarrassing essays about the class struggle and the dictatorship of proletariat. I also talked to Lenin in my head when I felt misunderstood by the adults. There was a sense of clarity to that whole arrangement, and a sense of security. I mean, yes, the tastiest foods were acquired through questionable trips to the back of the store—but it was a backdrop for “We are marching toward communism, go to school, study hard, and the future is bright.” Hooray.
And then the Soviet Union fell, and the new television told us that the bolsheviks were essentially terrorists, that the USSR was a bloody ride, and that the “happily ever after” story was actually about America. On the sensory level, that rang true and felt good because it came with the right to speak. Of course, years later, I realized that the message of freedom was also tainted. That message was brought to the people of the USSR by multinational conglomerates and their domestic supporters. No one in power cared about the peasants, still—but the symbol of freedom was aligned with the business goals of the new elite.
So, the Scorpions unwittingly lied. But my God, it felt good. That geopolitical lie felt so good on the ground! Conclusion: “good for the people” reforms tend to happen only when someone with powers decides that a certain development is desirable and pushes it through—a reform, a war, a coup, a color revolution, and so on. And of course, to secure the support of the masses, the reformer comes up with a “land to the peasants” du jour.
Speaking of land to the peasants: A lie on top of a lie?
As an adult, I learned the family story and became perpetually disgusted with the bolsheviks. To my great surprise—and contrary to the story that I took in with mother’s milk—I learned that peasants were actually doing quite well in the village, and that it was the bolshevik revolution and the Soviet developments that brought poverty and suffering to the peasants.
So perhaps, the pre- (and post-) 1917 factory workers in Russia were truly impoverished—which is no different from how factory workers were doing in America or elsewhere at the time. Their condition was a result of industrial revolution that demanded uprooting people from their normal life in the village, keeping them desperate and training them to accept working long hours and breathing in poisons. City life was probably harder and lonelier than village life but again, it was the general civilizational trajectory post industrial revolution, not exclusive to tsarist Russia at all.
So … then… how on Earth did the bolsheviks manage?
As I child, I never asked that question because I assumed that the people largely supported them. But if not, then how on Earth? How did Lenin manage to organize an overtake of an entire country like Russia—as well as surrounding countries? That seemed like a fluke, until a couple of years ago, I discovered the work of Antony Sutton.
And then suddenly, it made sense!
According to Sutton, the bolshevik coup and military operation received lavish financing and military support from a group of extremely wealthy Western capitalists. Now, one might say, “But this is absurd!” And I would have to agree—but it sounds like Sutton was a thorough researcher who spent years working in archives and tracing correspondence and bank transfers. And granted, any recollection of history needs to be taken with a grain of salt because more often than not, the story we know is not what actually happened. But at the very least, Sutton’s interpretation makes far more logical sense than the story I learned as a child—and that brings us back to what is sometimes considered “conspiracy”—which I think is a fancy name for “subjective personal choices of the people in power.” If Sutton is correct, then it was the subjective desire of a number of wealthy and ambitious human beings—the desire to play with a “large super monopoly / captive market / planned economy” arrangement— that allowed the bolsheviks to pull the experiment through. So, if his reporting is correct, it wasn’t quite Lenin’s genius although is ruthlessness probably helped.
(And by the way, my view of history is philosophical and spiritual, I don’t care about isms at all. Ism do exist, and they are used for marketing either to praise or to criticize—but personally, I believe that all those things have more to do with what Steven Newcomb calls “the Doctrine of Domination.” I am appalled by the bolsheviks not because of the ism they promoted but because of the lies and the suffering they brought to the people, including my family. I am appalled by them because at the highest level, they were regular robber barons—and on the lowest level, they capitalized on the lowest human emotions, such as envy and anger—which, in my book, is disgusting, no matter what cause it is for. And yes, after two generations, the things mellowed out—but it has nothing to do with the goodness of the original plan. And to this day, I am dealing with the consequences of the totalitarian lie. Yes, I despise the entire thing! And I don’t like it one bit that today’s developments seem to stem from the same ambition of creating a super monopoly and inhumane controls. To me, the “public good” of today—soon to become “climate change emergency”—is the “land to the peasants” of 1917, combined with Manifest Destiny.
Speaking of international geopolitics and interesting undercurrents, is a video by James Corbett in which he talks about collaborations between the Chinese elites and the Western elites. (transcript).
And here is a fantastic conversation between James Corbett and Whitney Webb about the convoluted geopolitics in the context of 2021 and the Great Reset. In fact, this conversation started this entire article. I watched it, then the Corbett above, then Sutton, and it sent me down the memory lane because … because some wealthy people somewhere years ago wanted to do an experiment, and millions of innocent people paid the price. And they are seemingly trying this again, in a different flavor.
And the philosophy? Here I’d like to ponder subjectivity and how history is a collection of our individual choices.
Looking at history through a wide lens, over long periods of time, the butterfly effect becomes obvious—and so does the role of subjectivity.
I think about subjectivity a lot. It is my belief that everything in the world is subjective—and that the system of linear, inanimate controls was constructed by modern people, to feel less vulnerable in the world. By thinking of life as a collection of mechanical principles, we play a game in which we are in control of inanimate structures—as opposed to in a relationship with subjective everything.
(Besides, if it is respectable to talk about isms and not respectable to talk about conspiracies, conspiracies are easy to hide.)
Throughout history, kings, subjectively, have used various local and international alliances and rivalries to satisfy subjective personal desires, be it economic, romantic, or political desires. For instance, adoption of various state religions has happened largely under that paradigm. Case in point: As the legend has it, in the 7th century, Tibetan king Songtsen Gampo married a Chinese princess and an Indian princess, and ordered his people to convert to Buddhism in order to be more civilized. The people weren’t particularly happy, and it took about a century and a half of violence for the reform to come through and change the way the people thought and lived.
As another legend has it, in the 10th century, Vladimir of Kievan Rus ordered his people to convert to Orthodox Christianity. Again, the people weren’t thrilled at all, the violence followed, the reform went through—and centuries later, the melancholy and the sense of loss still lingers but everyone forgot the root of it.
And it is always the peasants who pay the price.
For example, how many parents have taught their children about the sinfulness of sex (and for how many centuries) because some powerful king decided to impose a series of perceptions on the people?
How many people have sincerely adopted those ideas, fully internalized them to the extent of identifying with those ideas and allowing those ideas to drive their view of themselves and their most significant, most intimate relationships? And yes, we all express our beauty (and our confusions) through any idea available to us in our environment—but how many people have been maimed?
How many families were torn apart or impoverished, and how many people died “because of ideas” (which really were extensions of subjective desires or preferences of kings, or even their intentional lies)?
How many people died in various wars and revolutions and social upheavals and religious reforms simply based on some influential person’s subjective greed?
As a conclusion, I think that it is in the best interest of every human being to insist on having a direct existential connection to the world—and not allow any king, any financier, or any “expert” to install themselves between the person’s heart and the universe.
Joy of life comes from life’s mystery, not from kings, not from entertainment companies, and not from banks. The universe supports those who don’t let go of their hearts. We are imperfect. But we are of love—and no robber baron in the world is entitled to tell us what to feel. We are of love. We are powerful when true to ourselves. We are of love.