I’m the Jefferson Airplane of politics.
When I made my first few posts, people had all kinds of different reactions—different opinions, different takes—and I saw that as a good thing. That’s what being human is about: individuality, expression, disagreement. So when I said we should leave behind the Left-Right paradigm, a lot of people didn’t know how to process it. And I get it—the left and right aren’t just political labels anymore; they’ve become pop culture identities, brand loyalties, emotional teams.
But here's the thing: I believe that both the left and right are dead. They’re corpses—symbols that no longer stand for real ideas, just empty vessels used by the parasites of corporatism and media spectacle. As we keep marching down this hollow path, it makes you ask: Where is the counterculture?
Back in October 1966, Grace Slick joined Jefferson Airplane right as the counterculture was beginning to explode. By 1967—the Summer of Love—Jefferson Airplane had become a lightning rod for radical politics, psychedelic freedom, and spiritual rebellion. Their music wasn’t just about peace and love; it was a threat to the sterile norms of postwar America. Songs like “Somebody to Love” weren’t just catchy—they were battle cries. Take this line, for example:
Tears are running down / They're all running down your breast / And your friends, baby / They treat you like a guest...
That’s not just heartbreak. That’s a generation screaming, We’re done with your uptightness. We’re done with your short hair and sanitized souls. We want freedom—liberation—from your cold little boxes.
That’s the spirit I’m channeling. Not left. Not right. Just raw, unfiltered human resistance to the machine.
But here's the thing: I believe that both the left and right are dead. They’re corpses—symbols that no longer stand for real ideas, just empty vessels used by the parasites of corporatism and media spectacle. As we keep marching down this hollow path, it makes you ask: Where is the counterculture?
Back in October 1966, Grace Slick joined Jefferson Airplane right as the counterculture was beginning to explode. By 1967—the Summer of Love—Jefferson Airplane had become a lightning rod for radical politics, psychedelic freedom, and spiritual rebellion. Their music wasn’t just about peace and love; it was a threat to the sterile norms of postwar America. Songs like “Somebody to Love” weren’t just catchy—they were battle cries. Take this line, for example:
Tears are running down / They're all running down your breast / And your friends, baby / They treat you like a guest...
That’s not just heartbreak. That’s a generation screaming, We’re done with your uptightness. We’re done with your short hair and sanitized souls. We want freedom—liberation—from your cold little boxes.
That’s the spirit I’m channeling. Not left. Not right. Just raw, unfiltered human resistance to the machine.