One day we will get the call. The land is acquired, the initial funding has been secured, all we need is for our comrades to pack some camping gear and as much non-perishable foodstuffs, seeds for growing, maybe starts if practical, and make the journey, not to the promised land, and definitely not a utopia; But it’s the start of something, a raw lumber fence with a wide tall arch over the entrance reads, “The Post Hog Farm”.

A scattering of construction sites dots the landscape. None further along than having the interior walls framed in, many still in the process of laying the foundation. There’s a trailer with solar power and a free internet hotspot (for we must never log off). There’s no running water yet but there’s a well with potable water and a creek and large pond to bathe in.

Pallets of building materials are stored in a few large shipping containers that have been sent by a benevolent anonymous donor somewhere in China. A smell wafts from the most complete building onsite; wood fire smoke and a savory bready smell almost overpowered by that of sizzling cheese. A hand painted sign reads Yeasty Boys and inside @QuillQuote is serving up free pies to all comers.

Breathing in the aroma of your comrades’ cooking you sigh with relief. For the first time you feel a sense of purpose and a small glimmer of hope for the world, as you realize you had never actually been home before.

    • Nakoichi [they/them]
      hexagon
      ·
      4 years ago

      I mean we also grow and sell weed to rich NEETS for income. It's not like we can totally escape capitalism without destroying it entirely.