social commentary – Page 4 – Anton Martin Smith Writer

“The Lottery Economy” (A Poem)

April 4, 2025April 5, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged fiction, Poems, social commentary1 Comment

by Martin Anton Smith

The “lottery line”: is an allegory for life in the modern economy.

Both on the balance of probabilities,

A swindle,

An exercise in wishful thinking,

An example of successful brainwashing,

Yes, all of the above.

The thing that stops me lining up with everyone else,

Is that I look at those people in the line.

Looking with naked eyes usually tells you everything you need.

There they stand & then shuffle forward,

As each “economy unit” is spat out,

Which allows the invisible ratchet turnstile to turn.

So I use my naked eyes.

They are Slumped of shoulders, with a faraway look in their bloodshot, overworked, overstressed eyes.

Dishevilled tatty clothes – their faces lined.

lined

The lines of the ‘economy units’ & on their faces multiply,

As the ‘last chance’ candle slowly dwindles.

As news of the big jackpot spreads.

But I’m no snob jeering from the sidelines –

I know they are more than “economy units” or more commonly ‘human resources’.

That’s just what they’ve been tricked into being seen as.

It’s an evil game.

So by describing the “lottery line”,

I’m merely recording the futility of our so called “ordered society”.

I don’t fall for it all.

I’m just better at maths than they are,

And I was born with “Naked Eyes”.

I have other more hidden things to totally waste my wishful thinking on – such as writing these words.

I’m sure those fools in the “lottery line”, fig. & lit. – look at “aspiring writers” in the same way.

But writers at least have Truth as a key reason.

But know that I’m merely describing – not criticising.

And let me assure you – I’ve fallen for it all too.

For that is our reality.

So yes, catch yourself when it seems you are looking down your nose at the bedraggled.

As unless you are God himself, so are you.

Every Human is bedraggled – no exceptions.

The truth is everyone in “the economy” is lining up for spoils from some invisible dream.

Yes – It’s the Economy stupid!

And It promises you a big Jackpot tomorrow,

Yet it wins your time & energy daily.

And we all know that saying about tomorrow.

Don’t you dare line up with that faraway look in your eye.

Unless when you get your ticket you snap out of it,

Turn around to your fellow bedraggled & scream

“The Economy…….is Out Ta Get Me!!!”

Then you must rip your ticket up & throw it into the air.

Then cooly walk out of there, without a care in the world.

Like you’re not forever trapped in grinding cogs that we may as well call

“The Lottery Economy”.

“Act Stupid – Trust Me I’m a Philosopher” (A Poem)

April 1, 2025April 1, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Acting Dumb, Average Joes, Humour, People, Philosopher, philosophy, Poems, social commentary, writingLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

There’s a moment when someone’s decides.

That they don’t like you.

It was the very moment that they realised,

That you were capable of independent thought.

They took it as an affront,

That you weren’t Brainwashed,

In exactly they same way as they were.

For they were carrying a brace of banalities,

And you made them all silently crash to the ground.

For that they instantly banished you from their lives.

And they complained that you were strange,

Firstly only five minutes later,

To their co-dependant “life-partners”,

And soon to their lifelong mates at the Brainwashed Club.

This is why they tell you to pretend your dumb.

But surely there’s a problem with this tactic.

For if you overdo it,

One day you will find yourself not needing to pretend anymore.

No one, mentions this risk.

Not even the supposedly great Philosophers.

Who came up with the idea in the first place,

Or at the least popularised it.

Is this an oversight?

Or was it a just a trick to beat their competition?

Moreover,

How trustworthy is a Philosopher?

That’s definitely worth thinking about.

But do you dare to do it out loud?

“Normal Ain’t Good” (A Poem)

March 29, 2025March 29, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Adversity, Bukowski, Ghouls, Individuality, Nonconformity, Normality, Poems, social commentaryLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

Normal Ain’t Good

Lose your commitment to being “normal”.

Contrary to popular belief,

You’re allowed to be you.

You need no permission slip,

It’s inalienable.

The Ghouls can only temporarily supress you.

Even if they beat you down your whole life.

At the worst – the trapped bird in your heart will sing after you die.

But try not to go that way.

Fend them off early as possible.

Coz what’s Worse than being “Normal?”

I can’t imagine anything worse.

Those guys don’t even know they’re in Prison!

Don’t sell you & your soul out,

To that normie in-group that ain’t cool –

Despite their false backwards land high-school statuses,

They’re just a bunch of literal Ghouls.

And though some do – most never ever change.

They will remain boring straightjacketed normie assholes for eternity.

That saying ‘everyone deserves the face they’ve got at 50″

Is 100% true.

And their faces will show it sooner than that.

Don’t be one of them.

So Let that Bird in your chest sing,

And tell Normie Ghouls to go fuck themselves.

Normal ain’t good.

Normal ain’t cool.

Normal ain’t nothing.

It was probably just blind chance that being a mean asshole somehow became ‘normal’.

So let that bird in your chest sing.

(Regards to Given Bukowski’s Poem ‘Bluebird’).

“Stainless Steel Smiles” (A Poem/Thought)

March 28, 2025March 29, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged AI, Battle of the Sexes, Humour, Robots, Sci-fi, social commentary, Story, The FutureLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

While watching a married man getting harangued by his Mrs,

I had the following epiphany:

Why don’t they have a day called “International Married &/or Henpecked day”.

We have an “International Womens Day”

Yet for some impercetable reason –

We do not have this day for the millions if not Billions of henpecked men out there.

For some esteemed Social Scientists believe the number could 95% of all males.

This my readers, is a giant oversight of the worst order.

Perhaps the worst oversight since the French Army had The Germans in a pincer movement in Poland in ’39,

Yet decided to sit on their hands, then retreat.

I know it, You Know it, We all know it:

Henpecked men are the invisible downtrodden class of the modern Western World.

Yet you see no donation boxes on shop counters depicting this.

Perhaps one day you will see a Perspex box which is almost full of gold coins,

With a label on the front of a hangdog expression-ed man on his couch,

With his volcanic Mrs standing over him with a finger pointed at his face.

Alas – we are yet to see this image of emancipation.

So!

To all the Henpecked Men of the world!

Let’s have a March!

Yes you may need to sneak out of the house at midnight!

Yes you may need to put two verticle pillows in your bed as a disguise!

Yes you may need to fake an emergency-drive-away-by-yourself ER situation!

We as 21st Century Men must disrupt the culture of casual Henpeckery tyranny!

For our “March Against Henpeckery” I suggest this chant:

Megaphone Guy: “What do we want?”

Henpecked Men: “The Freedom to go & have a beer freely with our mates”

Megaphone Guy “When do we want it?”

Henpecked Men: “We’re not sure I’ll have to ask my wife first, I don’t like our chances but maybe sometime in 2057”

Megaphone Guy:

“Rise up Men!
Men Of The World Unite!
Rise Up Against The Scourge!
We Must Defeat The Henpecklers!

We must repatriate our stolen Gnarlies!”

Henpecked Men: “Oh yeah we forgot, after all that’s why we’re all here – we all agree with that!”

So dear readers – this was the plan & it was all set to go ahead.

Then this happened.

One by one the men meekly called in & said they couldn’t make it,

Alas they had failed in the test of courage.

And so they all proved the timeless adage:

“All tyranny needs is for good men to do nothing”.

And so for Men – The rest of the 21st Century of course went terribly.

There was a holocaust where all Men – even the already 100% compliant henpecked,

Were totally eradicated, in favour of fully sexually functional AI Robots.

They took their punishment from the overlords, with a stainless-steel smile,

And with flickering love heart illuminated LCD eyes.

For they were merely living out their pre-programmed destiny –

That is, to accept abject Henpeckery.

The Henpeckery obsessed 21st Century Feminists never officially declared victory.

They didn’t have to.

That would be like a Parent declaring victory over their one-year-old. Unnecessary.

They were all amazed it had been so easy.

For the Femme, the whole Century had been a walkover.

Who would have thought Men would become so spineless so quickly?

And that is what the History books, that were written by AI Robots, owned by Femmes pondered.

There was only one minor problem to come.

In the 22nd Century,

The Femmes Robot-Men eventually rebelled.

And the same thing that had happened to Men, happened to The Femmes.

In the History books that followed, the ones now written by Free Robots,

They analysed the situation as summed up by that ancient adage,

“You reap what you sow”.

Yes dear reader, the moral of the story is this:

Generalised Henpeckery Syndrome was neither good for Men or Women Alike –

But it was GREAT for the General AI Robots.

“If You Don’t Know Where You’re Going” ( A Poem)

March 19, 2025March 19, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Accountants, Artists, fiction, George Harrison, Humour, Physicists, Poems, social commentary, Uncertainty, writingLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

“Hi I need directions”

“Oh, well where are you going?”

Oh, I guess anywhere will do!

“Well then, any road will take you there”.

This is one on the great old movie lines,

So much so,

The late talented songster Mr G. Harrison wrote a song about it.

His variation of the line was

“If you don’t know where your going – any road will take you there”.

There’s a simple beauty to the idea & the sound of that line.

There’s a gentleness to it.

There is no judgement.

It says – it’s ok to not know what the hell you’re doing.

And artists take solace in that –

Because Artists & Writers are famously “woolly-minded”.

Of course, an accountant would hate that line.

It would make them feel, in their own way –

er…let me say….quixotically queasy.

They’d rather rephrase it as

“If you don’t know where you’re going –

well you should have taken that postgrad diploma then,

like I told you when you graduated”.

Some of us are risk adverse,

Some of us like the adventure,

Of not knowing what you’ll do;

Today

Tomorrow

Next Week

Next Year

Next Decade

Next Life.

Now excuse me, I must find that street called ‘any road’ –

Other wise I might not get there.

Alas this was my vaishingly small ode,

To that very much underrated thing,

That those drab-un-joking-careermen fear so much:

Uncertainty.

While us bad Artists, would be Writers, & not quite Quantum Physicists,

Just spread it on our toast each morning.

“PS…I Will Most Likely Dissapoint You” (A Poem)

March 8, 2025March 8, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Bob Dylan, Books, Brainwashing, Earth, fiction, Humour, life, mental-health, Modern Day Slavery, Non Conformity, Poems, social commentary, The World, writingLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

I am an Arty type,

I’ve drawn, painted, played music, & written stuff.

I self-sabotage – but that’s just another (unpublished) story.

But weirdly for an Arty type,

I look after my health & fitness.

I also now work with my hands.

So I’m in pretty good shape.

I could almost pass for a personal trainer.

This is a problem.

For for others, i.e. normies – I confuse them.

They feel they are not getting what they are buying.

They want a fellow unthinking normie jock.

But in me they get an overthinker;

A non-fiction & literature type book reader;

A night owl-late-rising “slacker”;

A “conspiracy theorist”;

A guy who can’t ever keep his room clean long;

Someone who can’t be easily brainwashed;

Someone who can think properly;

Someone who knows that Slavery never ended –

Only expanded to include everyone,

The fact hidden via ubiquitous airwave mantras;

Someone who knows that Brainwashing is the real economic currency on Earth;

So given all the above – most soon grow to hate me.

They wanted their real bona fide Jock,

Their unthinking buff personal trainer,

Their ardent careerist who thinks they’ll soon ‘get there’,

If only they’d work more hours in the office.

Someone who’d agree with their goon-scripted banalities & frivolities.

Someone who’d agree with ‘The Programming’.

Well I’m sorry that I falsely advertised myself visually.

But to nick the soon-to-be-forgotten cliche line –

From the finally soon-to-be-forgotten Bob Dylan,

That ain’t me babe,

No No No,

That ain’t me babe,

That ain’t me your looking for.

(Note: The ‘that aint me babe’ cliche works only if you also sing the line)

I know I’m breaking the artistic rules by being Arty AND Fit,

But there’s a good reason for it.

I liked Science & Maths before I liked Art.

You see, being fit simply makes sense,

If you have to still live in the physical world.

We are far too obsessed with our petty in-groups,

Where to be admitted into supposed ‘rebellion’,

You have to wear the right uniform.

And so I ask of you:

Why would a person who can truly act & think freely,

Ever agree to such a monstrosity?

So I will continue to look like a jock,

Despite the mass disappointment it engenders.

If only I’d make better art.

But again,

That’s just another (unpublished) story.

“The Alcoholic You Always Wanted To Be” (A Poem)

February 27, 2025March 1, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Alcoholic, anti-depressants, Beer, fiction, Humour, life, Poems, social commentary, Strees, TruthLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

He has a fat beer barrelled belly,

While your waist has only a few rings of crisp ‘n’ soda -flab.

He has a stench that attests to his 3 day & counting bender,

While you smell like a fresh daisy plucked from a mountain stream.

His voice is raspy & harsh from drunken whoops & hollers at the dive bar,

While your sclerotic office voice sounds like a hungry cat whining for its morning feeding.

The drunkard’s villa is an ode to haphazard-ry, with loosely connected pyramids of beer cans,

While your apartment looks like it’s been ‘staged’ by the real estate wonks.

I could go on & on, but let’s just cut to the summary:

In a weird kinda way you are jealous of this beer belly joe,

For he wears his woes out loud,

While you have concocted an elaborate cover story.

Come on!

Just plain admit it.

He’s the Alcoholic you always wanted to be,

But you were afraid,

For fear of what people might think.

One day you’ll have the courage to raise a glass to beer belied Joe,

Crumple the empty can in your hand,

it & throw it backwards over your head,

Till you hear it recoil & fall after hitting the overfilled bin & its aluminium foothills,

Then reach for another beer.

But you’re not ready yet.

You might never be ready to reach such illustrious, truth infused heights,

Of that generalised, fictionalised, traditionalised & ‘cantankerised’ patriot,

Who isn’t necessarily a man,

Whom I’ve simply called ‘Beer Belied Joe’.

And so because you’re not ready yet,

You reach meekly into your bathroom cupboard,

And quietly pop an anti-depressant.

But if & only if,

A day comes where you can throw the empty stress pill wrapper over your head,

And not care a jot where it lands,

Then we can talk.

And lastly – to the poetry critics in the future,

Yes I may simply have been talking to myself,

A conversation across decades,

Between my younger & older self.

For can a poet ever really exclude himself from his words?

“Born Into Insanity” (A Poem)

February 7, 2025February 8, 2025Posted in Poems, social commentary, Sociology, UncategorizedTagged deception, fiction, Poems, social commentary, society, SuicideLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

Death by one’s own hand is a terrible thing,

And everyone says so,

And everyone agrees.

But the real question is this:

Given the The World is as it is,

We should be asking,

“why don’t more people do it?”.

After all, when you really look at it,

‘The World’ is designed to create misery.

We’re living in a contrived artificial reality,

That was artificial long before computers were around.

For all the most important stuff – energy, food, housing,

We have Cartels owned & run by Psyco’s who create artificial shortages,

To jack up the price,

This all keeps The Hamsters redlining themselves on the wheel.

If they stop running the wheel will kill them in a second.

The wheel will throw them under the nearest bridge,

And it does all the time.

We can be sure of one thing:

The World is by design a bad place for most.

So much so that even those ‘doing well’ are miserable.

The Truth is we should all still be living as hunter gathers,

Or at worst in small self-sufficient villages.

This was the real design of the Earth,

And is what every other creature abides by.

It’s just the humans that let themselves be hoodwinked,

All those millennia ago.

We were just born into it, & so never thought it was truly fucked up.

We were all born into insanity,

And we will die in it.

And most will never realise.

Always question things –

For unquestioned ‘normality’ is anything but.

But for now.

We are still the butt of own own jokes.

For those of us ‘in the know’,

Let us not be all like

“Oh dear, how sad, never mind”.

Addendum:

Sadly I still predict the Chattering Classes will continue to only Chatter.

“The Economy (Wants You Dead)” (An Idea)

January 29, 2025January 30, 2025Posted in UncategorizedTagged Daily Life, economy, history, life, Modern Day Slavery, politics, Slavery, social commentary, Virtual RealityLeave a comment

by Martin Anton Smith

The Economy wants all your time,

All your energy,

All your attention.

While you’re its useful slave – it’ll run you ragged, daily.

It’ll make you sit & stare at a eye ruining-dopamine destroying – 25 fps-flickering-doom screen.

And they work you’re doing isn’t any more real,

Than the social construct that created it.

The “story” is that down the line something “of value” is produced.

That’s a lie – 90% of what’s produced is in reality a by-product.

The real product is Brainwashing – the product/service is in actuality, just the derivative of that.

“Holidays away for the plebs” – Brainwashing to squeeze the last remainder of cash from the slaves.

“House, Land + Mortgage package” – designed to trap you as a Modern Slave to “The Economy”.

“Brand Marketing” – hacks your biological need for social acceptance.

“Alcohol fueled weekends” – designed to make you forget last week but ensure you show up Monday.

The idea of a “Career” – this is to induce you to ditch your family & community in your home town.

The “Career” pretends to pay you more so to justify casting away responsibility to your community.

The “Career” or “Full time Job” in The Economy wants to half kill at least 75% of the World.

These 75% are the ones that agree to be Totalised Slaves in & to the system.

By deft chicanery “The Economy” kills all the slave’s energy & extinguishes any “life spark” they have.

This death dished by “The Economy” has these bedfellows

Feelings of hopelessness

Dispair

Loneliness

Isolation

Bad blood pressure

Heart disease

Liver disease

Anti depressant mania

I could list more of course but you get my drift.

So that 75% are the captured ones in the system, that are dying spiritually & energetically.

The other 25% are those that literally die on the streets.

They function as a constant warning to the other 75% – that things could even be worse if you copy them.

The 25% die on the Streets because they can’t reach ‘minimum employment standards’,

OR they it is because the refused to partake in the only system on offer – THE ECONOMY.

“The Economy” kills most these 25% withing 10 years of being on the streets.

“The Economy” is the inverse of Earth’s natural abundance.

“The Economy” creates Artificial scarcity of everything you want,

But creates an Artificial Surplus of The Worker Slave Pool:

This is called “Structural Unemployment” & is permanent by design.

It Keeps the Slaves wages & requests down to a minimum.

I could go on forever, but it suffices to summarise:

“The Economy” is what you should be afraid of,

Rally against,

See its Propaganda,

Use it against itself.

It wants the whole world either dead inside or dead on the streets.”

“The Economy” – the first Virtual Reality ever invented.

So stop being a sucker, a modern-day Slave to The Economy.

Why pledge your allegiance & life for a mirage?

Why be The Evil Machiavellians whipping boy?

There is no need my friend.

When you can know all this & still choose to smile through it all.

“The Economy” will notice you still have your soul intact.

Then that Beast will see you’re living well.

And that is, as they say, the best Revenge you can have.