Fisk400 goes to Walmart. On the shelves, a product catches his eye “Wow, I can’t believe this AC unit is so cheap! Capitalism is great.”
A Congolese child smiles. His job in a rare earth excavation site made that AC unit possible, and cheap.
The child looks at the sky “I hope you’re happy, white master”, he says before he gets pushed back to work. It is 40C in the mine, he gets no AC. But at least wealthier people get to have it.
Fisk400 buys the cheap AC. “Who cares about climate change anyway, it’s hot outside”. Then, he sees something else a few aisles down: cheap meat. “Wow, that’s a great deal!”. He grabs a few packs of beef.
Somewhere in Argentina, a cattle rancher smiles. “I hope you’re happy, white master” says the man. He has never tasted beef; it’s too expensive for him. But he’s glad that someone else gets to enjoy it, at least.
Fisk never even heard the child and man, drowned by his new shiny purchases and the feeling of accomplishment they give him.
Upon leaving the store, Fisk400 pretends to not see the 75 year old greeter who is forced to stand there all day and say hi. “Oh god, I hope he doesn’t try to talk to me” he thinks as he darts to the exit, his products in hand. He can’t wait to try them out – it’s his god-given right to consume whatever is sold in stores with no further considerations.
Then, cool and cozy, he logs onto Lemmy. “Tankies have no moral compass”, he says matter-of-factly.
Fisk400 goes to Walmart. On the shelves, a product catches his eye “Wow, I can’t believe this AC unit is so cheap! Capitalism is great.”
A Congolese child smiles. His job in a rare earth excavation site made that AC unit possible, and cheap.
The child looks at the sky “I hope you’re happy, white master”, he says before he gets pushed back to work. It is 40C in the mine, he gets no AC. But at least wealthier people get to have it.
Fisk400 buys the cheap AC. “Who cares about climate change anyway, it’s hot outside”. Then, he sees something else a few aisles down: cheap meat. “Wow, that’s a great deal!”. He grabs a few packs of beef.
Somewhere in Argentina, a cattle rancher smiles. “I hope you’re happy, white master” says the man. He has never tasted beef; it’s too expensive for him. But he’s glad that someone else gets to enjoy it, at least.
Fisk never even heard the child and man, drowned by his new shiny purchases and the feeling of accomplishment they give him.
Upon leaving the store, Fisk400 pretends to not see the 75 year old greeter who is forced to stand there all day and say hi. “Oh god, I hope he doesn’t try to talk to me” he thinks as he darts to the exit, his products in hand. He can’t wait to try them out – it’s his god-given right to consume whatever is sold in stores with no further considerations.
Then, cool and cozy, he logs onto Lemmy. “Tankies have no moral compass”, he says matter-of-factly.