Monday, October 12, 2015

A facebook page.

So I've been thinking of opening a facebook page, but I didn't want to create one solely to my novel, so I created one that worships me instead.


But I did create a page, which I named "Anarcho-capitalist literature" and if you'd like to see a fancy quote from an ancap/voluntaryist/libertarian thinker each day, linking the source literatue for you to always have something to read, go and hit the like button on that page.

Until then, heres a preview of Chapter IX:

Solaris Midsummer lived through darkness, and vowed to end it with his might.
                Solaris saw plague spreading through his home, where there was no chance to cure the ailment. No technology was accessible to them for that they lived a world that could not sustain great expenses, where the collective owned the means of production. If they ever tried to thrive, food began to disappear from the market that used no price. Such was the nature of a system with no money involved. Not knowing the losses they made, they wasted the scarce resources they owned, like the time and energy of the fellow comrades, resources that could no longer supply the most crucial demands.
                And the plague, the dying, pleading, praying shells that filled the squares reminded him of nightmares, of nightmares that he wished, but could not control. And his dreams reminded him of the truth, of the true and dreadful nightmare that shown him how frail a resource is life, and how easy it is to lose it.
                He saw child abuse from first hand. For questioning what was sacred he faced closed a closed door from the stormy, dark midnight. For standing up for what he deemed right screaming threats filled the airwaves. For resisting commands he was beaten until he obeyed, until he could not breathe from crying, until he had to beg for them to stop, until he learnt where his place was, until his mind went numb from the pain, and acted without control, until his soul was crushed to fine dust.
                And within all that violence, within all that pain and torture, the glimpse of hope have touched him, hope that whispered that he could become someone who rules this nightmare. Not now, not in time he could foresee, but a force existed, a force could be wielded that would repel all the darkness, all the pain…
                He saw rebellion and war, war between those who created cash, and those who hated them for it. And as chaos slowly ensued, the young Solaris departed from his homeland, following the whispers of the old god, who promised him the freedom from the chains.
                The old god of the State.

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