AT Cap There is a unique distinction between the violence of neolibralism and the violence of slavery.
Frank B. Wilderson III, Antiblackness and American Society1, Building A Movement: Against Police Brutality Conference, Professor UC Irvine, April 18th 2015)
(as Professor Allen Feldman argues in his groundbreaking book Formations of Violence)—it is, rather, an extension of the master’s prerogative. Orlando Patterson, in his groundbreaking book Slavery and Social Death clarifies this distinction between the structure of violence which dis-ci-plines the Human (worker, postcolonial subject, woman, or queer, for example) and the structure of violence which po-s-itions the Slave (the Black) by emphasizing the difference between the violence that constitutes capitalism and the violence that constitutes slavery. The worker who is fired remains a worker, to be hired elsewhere. The slave who was freed was no longer a slave. Thus it was necessary continually to repeat the original, violent act of transforming free man into slave. This act of violence constitutes the prehistory of all stratified societies…but it determines both “the prehistory and (concurrent) history of slavery. (Slavery and Social Death 3, italics mine) [Look at the crowd and explain…if you want to.]
The Performance of the 1AC is the starts from the positionality of absolute dereliction. This affirmation creates a rift in worlds, challenges the humanity that grids civil society, and is the starting point to solve for race, gender, class, and sexuality. Sexton 08
Sexton, Jared. Amalgamation schemes: Antiblackness and sthe critique of multiracialism. U of Minnesota Press, 2008.
That is to say, a willingness to affirm the absolute vulnerability that historically structures “existence in black” (Gordon 2000) “on a global scale.” Neither acceptance nor celebration, such affirmation promises something more than resignation or despair, more than the hopeless “attempt at suicide” that Fanon’s detractors would have defeat the wretched of the earth in advance. This affirmation unfolds in the space between worlds, the Old and the New, in the time between what has been and what will be—a derelict nonplace, a distorted space-time, anticipating what will have been. Affirming the derangement of hierarchical social distinctions—of class, gender, sexuality, nationality—all of the official terms of dignity foreclosed by our massive arrest, our eviction from History. In this uninterrupted state of confinement, we might, following Spillers (2003), claim the “monstrosity” of a prerogative to name not only the structures of kinship whose perpetual disallowance provides the conditions of possibility for all other’s claims to the universal and the particular, but also the outrage of personhood that remains the founding anathema of a global civil society. “The semi-illiteracy of conventional rhetoric shaping the dominant discourse on ‘race’” encourages our “severing racism from its logical culmination in genocide” ( James 1996a, 115), misrecognizing its origination in the violent formation of the modern commodity-form. It encourages as well our forgetting about its embedment in the seizure and theft of body whose anxious figure opened our considerations and whose effacement, in the first and last instance, makes possible the historical sensibility of the emergent multiracial imagined community: the dispossessed black female confronted, invented, by the slave estate and its undead symbolic mechanisms. That is to say, finally, that the critical gesture under pursuit seeks no more, and no less, than the potential legibility unleashed by the project of a radical black feminism, the insurgent ground of a political movement that “might rewrite after all a radically different text for female empowerment” (Spillers 2003, 229). A project that, because of that, provides the only viable—that is to say, ethically consistent—means of unraveling that “single bundle of nerves” in which the violence of race, nation, class, gender, and sexuality “does not bear distinction” (330). Risk incurs here not to the humiliation of dismissal but to the exhilarating possibility that we may be taken seriously, not least by an intramural engagement. The political task that remains is neither a restoration nor a restitution, but a creative destruction
Our strategy of failure and refusal is key – we don’t have to win that we’re the dominant paradigm of resistance, just that their ahistorical approach forecloses a necessary component of anticapitalist resistance
Halberstam 11 (Jack, professor of English and Director of the Center for Feminist Research at USC. “The Queer Art of Failure” (2011), Duke University Press, pp. 18-19)
A great example of low theory can be found in Peter Linebaugh’s and Marcus Rediker’s monumental account of the history of opposition to capitalism in the seventeenth and eighteenth century, Te Many- Headed Hydra: Sailors, Slaves, Commoners, and the Hidden History of the Revolutionary Atlantic. Teir book traces what they call “the struggles for alternative ways of life” that accompanied and opposed the rise of capitalism in the early seventeenth century (2001: 15). In stories about piracy, dispossessed commoners, and urban insurrections they detail the modes of colonial and national violence that brutally stamped out all challenges to middleclass power and that cast proletarian rebellion as disorganized, random, and apolitical. Linebaugh and Rediker refuse the common wisdom about these movements (i.e., that they were random and not focused on any particular political goal); instead they emphasize the power of cooperation within the anticapitalist mob and pay careful attention to the alternatives that this “many- headed hydra” of resistant groups imagined and pursued. Te Many- Headed Hydra is a central text in any genealogy of alternatives because its authors refuse to accede to the masculinist myth of Herculean capitalist heroes who mastered the feminine hydra of unruly anarchy; instead they turn that myth on its many heads to access “a powerful legacy of possibility,” heeding Hall’s cogent warning, “The more we understand about the development of Capital itself, the more we understand that it is only part of the story” (1997: 180). For Linebaugh and Rediker, capital is always joined to the narratives of the resistance it inspired, even though those resistant movements may ultimately not have been successful in their attempts to block capitalism. And so they describe in detail the wide range of resistance with which capitalism was met in the late sixteenth century: there were levelers and diggers who resisted the en- closure of the public land, or commons; there were sailors and mutineers and would- be slaves who rebelled against the captain’s authority on ships to the New World and devised different understandings of group relations; there were religious dissidents who believed in the absence of hierarchies in the eyes of the Lord; there were multinational “motley crews” who engineered mutinies on merchant ships and who sailed around the world bringing news of uprisings to different ports. All of these groups represent lineages of opposition that echo in the present. Linebaugh and Rediker flesh out the alternatives that these resistant groups proposed in terms of how to live, how to think about time and space, how to inhabit space with others, and how to spend time separate from the logic of work. The history of alternative political formations is important because it contests social relations as given and allows us to access traditions of political action that, while not necessarily successful in the sense of becoming dominant, do offer models of contestation, rupture, and discontinuity for the political present. These histories also identify potent avenues of failure, failures that we might build upon in order to counter the logics of success that have emerged from the triumphs of global capitalism. In Te Many- Headed Hydra failure is the map of political paths not taken, though it does not chart a completely separate land; failure’s byways are all the spaces in between the superhighways of capital. Indeed Linebaugh and Rediker do not fnd new routes to resistance built upon new archives; they use the same historical accounts that have propped up dominant narratives of pirates as criminals and levelers as violent thugs, and they read different narratives of race and resistance in these same records of church sermons and the memoirs of religious fgures. Teir point is that dominant history teems with the remnants of alternative possibilities, and the job of the subversive intellectual is to trace the lines of the worlds they conjured and left behind.
Proximate causes - there is no explanation for how capitalism plays into status qou violence done upon black folk, rich black folk are killed and thrown in prison just the same as poor black folk
Action first- they don’t enact any actual change unlike the aff’s song and poetry, even if they prove the alt is a good idea you have to evaluate actual real action over just an idea cause that doesn’t change anything.
No link- We are the starting point of cap. We reject the res, which is rooted in capitalism. This is not hard to prove that the perm is case in point. Even if they prove that cap is the root cause, perm still works.
Share with your friends: |