The Artists' Rebellion

“No, you will not use my intimacy with the muse to sell more units of your novelty landfiller."

"You will not use my access to creativity making others poorer and sicker to make yourself richer." https://caitlinjohnstone.substack.com/p/the-artists-rebellion

I have this fantasy where the artists go on strike.

The writer will stand up from her desk at Raytheon and walk away without lending them another word.

The graphic designer at the State Department will turn off his Wacom and shut down Photoshop and pick up a pencil and start sketching homeless people.

Whole marketing departments will turn their talents to telling the real story of what their organization does in words and jingles and graphics and logos while the hapless artless CEO looks on helplessly, threatening them with everything he’s got.

Across boardrooms in every state of the US, in every country in Europe, on all the continents and in all the languages, the artists will stand up one by one and say:

And I hope that one day the CEO of Boeing will be forced to sit down at a laptop and type out his own press release, and I hope he cries in frustration when reading back the one and only sentence he can come up with: “Killing people is good, ackshually.”

And I hope that any other artist who that employer approaches tells them the same. “Get a better business model--one that helps people instead of harming them--and I might consider it.”

They will say, one after the other:

And each time a young artist makes the decision to pledge their life to their talent, they will gather in a group and say this oath to themselves and each other:

And then they all high-five and cheer and clink their drinks and spend the rest of the night dreaming up wonderful ideas and making each other laugh til their tummies hurt and their faces ache.

It’s a good dream. I like it. I want it.