Pushing the Boundaries

BEING an Anarchist, it won't surprise you to learn that I consider nation-states to be a major problem. In fact they are even more of a problem than they first appear. Allow me to explain. In 2018 Google banned a video by the Putin critic, Alexei Navalny (since deceased), after the Russian authorities had asked them to. Navalny, who was already living on borrowed time and walking round in a customised decontamination suit, was certainly no friend of ours, but when he rightly accused Google of applying censorship the American internet giant responded by saying that the Russians had misled them.

I don't wish to become embroiled in the meaningless U.S. election-rigging affair, for reasons that will soon become apparent, but it is precisely this kind of behaviour that reinforces my long-held belief that Russia and the West have been on the same side for some considerable time and that it suits their purposes to appear belligerent towards one another. We already have a burgeoning one-world government and yet we are supposed to believe that there is more than one sphere of influence operating in the world at large. Apart from ourselves and our own latent potential, that is.

At a time when internationalist economics firmly rules the roost, national borders and boundaries have become completely irrelevant. England, Portugal, France, Germany, Italy, Spain, Russia, the United States... these are little more than quaint artifacts that one might find covered in dusty cobwebs at the back of a twentieth-century antique shop.

Now, imagine that there is some degree of friction between you and several of your neighbours. You are all so busy yelling at each other over the garden fence, taunting one another with your own peculiar habits and sensibilities, that it would be easy to forget how Mr. Kuznetsov at No. 45, Herr Schieber at No. 47, Mademoiselle Couture at No. 49 and Señor Fernández at No. 51 are, like you, joint shareholders in the same company. Meanwhile, all this bickering is really designed to achieve is to throw the man running the local shop - not to mention the Marxist commune at No. 53 and the self-sufficient Anarchists over the road - completely off the scent. The garden fences, in other words, are about as effectual as placing a lifetime's supply of free Viagra on a eunuch's bedside table. Once people get used to seeing the bigger picture, and the same applies to the colonial outposts in Africa, Asia and the Middle East, everything will begin to fall into place.