They look down on us like animals in circus cages, ridiculed and pitied. A world that derives pleasure from exploiting most will never be a home to all. The world is a circus wherein fools are kings; it is a place where spectators entertain themselves from tragedy, tossing crumbs of bread to those deemed not worthy of a full meal. The spectators are demanding the unworthy to dance to satisfy their hedonistic wants. All pleasures on one side of the world come from the suffering of the other side. The starving masses, dancing in a spectacle, do so to appease the avarice of those comfortably seated for the show.

The kings, fools who inherited their place, and who, only through violent oppression can maintain the hierarchy of who sits where. The worst violence, the most horrible and unseen by most, is the tossing of crumbs—a deliberate oppression against those whose toiling is the circus’ raison d’être.

The spectators, who are consumers and enablers of a tragic spectacle, will enjoy the show as long as soothing music plays over the slaves dancing—a loud lullaby yet subtle, coming from the fools’ speakers. In justifying their actions, the spectators claim to support the slaves by buying the circus ticket. However, they do gradually lose interest in the spectacle as the tragedy unfolds before their eyes.

The treats offered to us by kings dull only those who dare not question the nature of the performance. During the show, treats put them to sleep, a sugar-induced fatigue. It is passivity in the face of tragedy, made to ignore the underlying theme of the spectacle by numbing any remotely humane feelings. The foolish kings, their rapacious disposition, demand that the spectacle grows in scope, forcing more to become slaves and to entertain the fools. Its spectators, who believe the lullaby and treats are the main event, are oblivious to the underlying, but very real tragedy of the spectacle. It is those near the front who witness its brutality as it is they who pay a high price for a ticket—a payment of sweat and blood. The performance worsens as more are forced to entertain the fools; its screams and cries eventually surpassing the lullabies.

The world for the spectator is marvelous: heroes clashing against villains. A spectacle of the divine, arriving at the stage as if by magic instead of a consequence of tragedy. Our leaders and rich oppressors will not tell the horrible side of their empire to the spectators. They will never show the devastation committed against Latin and Central America. The tragedy arising from exploitation is not fit for a Disney movie. However, those movies are not strangers to the grandeur of empire. Disney movies romanticizing exploited countries exist. We have movies of war like LOTR and American Sniper, either fantasy or non-fiction, where atrocities of war are viewed as heroic and fantastical. The countries they exploit are romanticized to entertain the spoiled masses of the Western world. Africa, in most movies, is only shown for its beautiful wildlife, where the movies focus on perfectly idyllic scenes and wild exotic animals. For the Western world, Africa is only beautiful when there are no black people!

The grandeur of empire finds its way into our food, cars, and electronics. But its tragedy is nowhere to be found. Our movies and TV shows shove in our faces characters and celebrities with luxuries a significant number of people cannot even afford. Many in the Global South will believe in the imagined successes of Capitalism from that alone. The spectacle is an image of glory and success that countless, even in the West, don’t have and will never enjoy. The live, love, laugh of liberalism, the mantra of fools, are encouragements of ignorance. An instrument of passivity disguised as a remedy for our social ills.

I must concede to the malice of liberals, who should be hurled from their comfortable seats of the spectacle and thrown into the realities of tragedy. To believe Capitalism can benefit all, or even most, is to believe in magic. It is a fairy tale where everyone, in the end, solves their differences by talking and compromising. Ironically, their movies and many other forms of art are filled with extreme violence. They also love violence when it’s to protect their place in the spectacle. The Western world is a tree that nourishes itself from the blood of people it sacrifices, and without the blood and killings—it withers and dies. Like in a Nietzschean wet dream, and perhaps his nightmare as well, the Western world is building itself with slaves, and without them, it will crumble. All happiness in our empire comes from the misery of the Global South.

Spectacle and tragedy are defined by their grandeur and parasitism, respectively, which are organized through relentless exploitation. It is a system fated to crumble by the weight of its victims. The tragedy from the circus and the harsh sounds of our discordant system are bound to emerge since reality has a way of asserting itself. Comrades, aren’t you entertained?