As one of the miniscule number of anarcho-capitalists in this country it can sometimes be a little tricky at social events. Only at a very small number of such events can I speak my mind freely, on the rare though always highly enjoyable occasions where I get to meet my fellow travellers. We literally meet in rooms not much bigger than a closet, and afterwards skulk in the most minute corners of anonymous bars.
Admittedly, the numbers are growing. At one recent meeting, we couldn't even get everyone in the closet. One unfortunate soul had to sit outside in the corridor. Yey, I can hear you think, today the closet, tomorrow the upstairs landing!? But what is much worse is mingling in what you might call polite society. Around 99.999% of intelligent people, in this country, are socialists. Some call themselves conservatives, some liberals, and some Labour supporters, but to me, because they all believe in government intervention in society, they are all socialists.
So what do you do? Well, you keep your mouth ultra shut. If you were to ever view your true feelings at any typical London dinner party, it would take about 17 micro-seconds to be shown the door as a raving mono-maniac, never to be invited again. Believe me, I know this through bitter experience. So the choice is, do you wear your anarchistic heart on your sleeve, or do you mumble your way through life discussing cricket and rugby to get thought of as some kind of harmlessly mild eccentric because you refuse to discuss politics? Coward that I am, I'm afraid I've taken the low road to societal inclusion. It's either that or be cut off entirely from virtually all human physical conversation. Because there is nothing that people hate more than having their political views challenged, except for perhaps visiting dentists. Which is kind of weird really! The discussion of politics is supposed to be an intellectual pursuit. But if you scratch it, any political discussion always seems to rapidly revert to the basest form of emotional tribalism. But I digress.
There may be only a few of us anarcho-capitalists around, mostly hiding in closets. And there may be just one or two who actually walk the streets proud to advertise our true nature. But should we be disheartened? Should we get depressed because so few intelligent people seem to share our thoughts and feelings? Only if we have failed to read the lessons of history.
Just look at Quentin Crisp, the naked civil servant. For decades he was seemingly the only homosexual in Britain. Yes, people whispered about Kenneth Williams too, but Earth Mother Goddess Hattie Jacques seemed to mask his nature too, with her Matron routine in the Carry On films.
The bravery of Quentin Crisp is legendary. Despite failing to serve in the army in World War II, he was perhaps the most courageous man in Britain, routinely risking the worst forms of physical harrassment on the streets of London.
But look at Britain now. Just take a stroll past the Admiral Duncan pub, in Old Compton Street, on a warm Spring evening, or Canal Street, in Manchester. Although they may be a minority, Britain is absolutely heaving with homosexuals, none of whom are afraid of the feelings of polite society. And they achieved this through the bravery of people like Quentin Crisp.
Although we will never stoop to campaigning for special government favours to help our cause, perhaps we, the anarcho-capitalists, if we stick to our guns and refuse to get depressed, can achieve a similar level of success. We believe that we represent the true innate feelings of humanity, which have only been masked by a continual propaganda operation by the state. The state needs to keep this propaganda operation going night and day, to sustain itself, with its control of virtually all educational outlets, plus great swathes of the media, particularly the BBC.
Therefore our plan must be to continually work on getting them out of this propaganda operation. Once we have freed people's minds, their true human action nature will quickly reassert itself. And although we may seem powerless up against the entrenched bureaucracies of the Department of Education and the BBC, Quentin Crisp was similarly powerless against the entrenched laws forbidding homosexuality.
But he beat them. He was the victor. He won.
We can win too. But only if we stick to our guns and keep the fight going, till we all draw our last breath. What have we got to lose? A life not worth living as a government slave? So stick to your principles, stick to your beliefs, and keep fighting the enemy without giving up hope or without giving up an enthusiasm for a life of freedom for everyone. We have nothing to lose but our chains.
Fight them until we can't.