The Evil System: The ills of capitalism

As i have become more knowledgeable, ive come to the conclusion that our economic system of capitalism is absolutely unjust and will ultimately fall. In my ideal world, absolute Marxism would be the alternative and would truly be in the interest of the "common good". After reading Edward Bellamy's Looking Backwards, I cant help but to see this system which we (Americans and others abroad) so dearly cherish, come to an abrupt collapse and see the rise of the truly just state. Edward Bellamy writes:

By way of attempting to give the reader some general impression of the way people lived together in those days, and especially of the relations of the rich and poor to one another, perhaps I cannot do better than to compare society as it then was to a prodigious coach which the masses of humanity were harnessed to and dragged toilsomely along a very hilly and sandy road. The driver was hunger, and permitted no lagging, though the pace was necessarily very slow. Despite the difficulty of drawing the coach at all along so hard a road, the top was covered with passengers who never got down, even at the steepest ascents. These seats at the top were very breezy and comfortable. Well up out of the dust, their occupants could enjoy the scenery at their leisure. or critically discuss the merits of the straining team. Naturally such places were in great demand and the competition for them was keen, everyone seeking as the first end in life to secure a seat on the coach for himself and to leave it to his child after him. By the rule of the coach a man could leave his seat to whom he wished, but on the other hand there were so many accidents by which it might at any time be wholly lost. For all that they were so easy, the seats were very insecure, and at every sudden jolt of the coach persons were slipping out of them and falling to the ground, where they were instantly compelled to take hold of the rope and help to drag the coach on which they had before ridden so pleasantly. It was naturally regarded as a terrible misfortune to lose one's seat, and the apprehension that this might happen to them or their friends was a constant cloud upon the happiness of those who rode. But did they think only of themselves? you ask. Was not their very luxury rendered intolerable to them by comparison with the lot of their brothers and sisters in the harness, and the knowledge that their own weight added to the toil? Had they no compassion for fellow beings from whom fortune only distinguished them?

Oh, yes, commiseration was frequently expressed by those who rode for those who had to pull the coach, especially when the vehicle came to a bad place in the road, as it was constantly doing, or to a particularly steep hill. At such times, the desperate straining of the team, their agonized leaping and plunging under the pitiless lashes of hunger, the many who fainted at the rope and were trampled in the mire, made a very distressing spectacle, which often called forth highly creditable displays of feeling on the top of the coach. At such times the passengers would call down encouragingly to the toilers of the rope, exhorting them to patience, and holding out hopes of possible compensation in another world for the hardness of their lot, while others contributed to buy salves and liniments for the crippled and injured. It was agreed that it was a great pity that the coach should be so hard to pull, and there was a sense of general relief when the specially bad piece of road was gotten over. This relief was not, indeed, wholly on account of the team, for there was always some danger at these bad places of a general overturn in which all would lose their seats. It must in truth be admitted that the main effect of the spectacle of the misery of the toilers at the rope was to enhance the passengers' sense of value of their seats upon the coach, and to cause them to hold on to them more desperately than before. If the passengers could only have felt assured that neither they nor their friends would ever fall from the top, it is probable that, beyond contributing to the funds for liniments and bandages, they would have troubled themselves extremely little about those who dragged the coach.

I am well aware that this will appear to the men and women of the twentieth century an incredible inhumanity, but there are two facts, both very curious, which partly explain it. In the first place, it was firmly and sincerely believed that there was no other way in which society could get along, except when the many pulled at the rope and the few rode ,and not only this, but that no very radical improvement even was possible, either in the harness, the coach, the. roadway, or the distribution of the toil. It had always been as it was, and it always would be so. It was a pity, but it could not be helped, and philosophy forbade wasting compassion on what was beyond remedy.
The other fact is yet more curious, consisting in a singular hallucination which those on top of the coach generally shared, that they were not exactly like their brothers and sisters who pulled at the rope, but of finer clay, in some way belonging to a higher order of beings who might just expect to be drawn. This seems unaccountable, but, as I once rode on this very coach and shared that very hallucination, I ought to be believed. The strangest thing about the hallucination was that those who had but just climbed up from the ground, before they had outgrown the marks of the rope upon their hands, began to fall under its influence. As for those whose parents and grandparents before them had been so fortunate as to keep their seats on the top, the conviction they cherished of the essential difference between their sort of humanity and the common article was absolute. The effect of such a delusion in moderating fellow feeling for the sufferings of the mass of men into a distant and philosophical compassion is obvious. To it I refer as the only extenuation I can offer for the indifference which, at the period I write of, marked my own attitude toward the misery of my brothers.

The Good Life

I remember being content with my life that was absoulutely devoid of any critical self-examination. After many hours of philosophy classes I have decided that Socrates is by far my favorite philosopher. While many considered him a nuisance, a know-it all, I firmly believe that Socrates was a necessary component in Athens. Why? Besides embarassing people who thought they knew it all, Socrates challenged every day citizens on issues such as virtue, the good life, etc... My favorite quotation by Socrates is, "the unexamined life is not worth living." Wow. How powerful and truthful.
Many of us (human-beings) live our lives without ever examining the values and questions at the center of our lives. Many of us, are quick to accept anything people tell us and to you, I say shame. I must admit, that I too was one of those people who believed whatever teachers told me as if it were the Gospel, but those days, ladies and gentlemen are long behind me. We need more Socrates's of the world. A gadfly that constantly irritates and force one to evaluate long held opinions and prejudices. I believe that we tend to avoid true self-reflection because if we truly took that crucial backwards step, we would realize what a funky life we lead. People no longer value the truth because the truth will often force one to change.
After a critical self-examination of my life, I realized the other day, that i am not happy. I am not happy with the life that i have lead in the quiet of my apartment or in the public eye. I often thought that happiness lied in drinking, drugs, and material wealth but none of these things made me truly happy. It was all permanent and fleeting. My resolve now is to live the good life and pursue it as fast as I can.