Capitalism and neoliberalism carry wars within them like clouds carry storms.
—Éric Alliez and Maurizio Lazzarato, To Our Enemies
Henry Miller the ex-patriot who would return to his native land just before the rise of Hitler had a glimpse into the heart of the American Dystopian world when he glimpsed from his ship the coastal regions of Boston:
The American coast looked bleak and uninviting to me. I didn’t like the look of the American house; there is something cold, austere, something barren and chill, about the architecture of the American home. It was home, with all the ugly, evil, sinister connotations which the word contains for a restless soul. There was a frigid, moral aspect to it which chilled me to the bone.1
What Miller discovered in his trip across the vast continent of his native land was a dystopian nightmare. He’d fought out of it ten years before…
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