Umbrellas and automobiles are different. Not just because of size, function, and cost. But for a reason we seldom stop to consider. A person can use an umbrella without buying another product. An automobile, by contrast, is useless without fuel, oil, repair services, spare parts, not to mention streets and roads. The humble umbrella, therefore, is a rugged individual, so to speak, delivering value to its user irrespective of any other product.
The mighty auto, by contrast, is a team player completely dependent on other products. So is a razor blade, a tape recorder, a refrigerator, and thousands of other products that work only when combined with others. The television set would stare blankly into the living room if someone somewhere were not transmitting images to it. Even the lowly closet hanger presupposes a rack or bar to hang it on.
Each of these is part of a product system. It is precisely their systemic nature that is their main source of economic value. And just as "team players" must play by certain agreed-on rules, systemic products need standards to work. A three-pronged electrical plug doesn't help much if all the wall sockets have only two slots.
This distinction between stand-alone and systemic products throws revealing light on an issue that is widening today's information wars all around the world. The French call it la guerre des normes—“the war over standards." Battles over standards are raging in industries as diverse as medical technology, industrial pressure vessels, and cameras.
Alvin Toffler, Powershift: Knowledge, Wealth, and Power at the Edge of the 21st Century
Summary: A bounty hunter gets tangled up with the First Order. She expects the worst, but with Kylo Ren, things are never as they seem.
Authors note: Okay so this is a re-edited version of my one and only one shot I wrote way back at the start of quarantine! Very small changes but they were bothering me so, lol. Please reblog/like and message me with feedback! 😊 ps: i have proof read but sorry if there are any errors!
Kylo Ren X Reader
Warnings: NSFW. 18+. Sexual tension, smut, female masturbation, voyeurism, use of a sex toy, orgasm denial. All the good stuff.
Word count: 4654
It’s difficult to pinpoint the exact reason Ren decided to keep you around – maybe he had plans for you, maybe you had an insignificant role to play in his destiny. Maybe he needed some company.
It started a few months ago, when the first order raided the village you were passing through.
Talk about wrong place, wrong time.
A bounty hunter was not an occupation that brought you a lot of pride. It made for temporary homes, temporary relationships and the constant need to pursue your next target. You tried to live by a code, but as the years went on the more you realized that people aren’t just pure good or evil - some had made explicit choices that led them down a certain path, some were just born into a life of chaos.
You remember when you first set your eyes on Kylo Ren. You remember the feeling that washed over your skin as his presence infiltrated your every sense and when you first heard his velvety voice, a stark contrast to the cold and unforgiving black mask he wore.
“Don’t kill this one, take her prisoner,” he communicated to the trooper.
Thank you?
You wake in a cold, metal cell. Relieved to find your normal attire was still on your body, sans any personal belongings and weapons. The four black walls keep you company as you wait for your inevitable punishment or worse, execution.
But it never comes.
Days pass, then weeks. Only having contact with the troopers for your meals and washroom privileges.
Then one day a voice rudely wakes you out of your slumber.
“Get up,’’ you stir in your sleep, squinting your eyes towards the slit of light that lit up your cell. “Proceed to the door with your hands in front of you.”
You move your body to put your boots on and do as commanded. Some mechanical noises later, the hefty door slides open. The troopers’ stark, white armour combined with the fluorescent light burns your eyes. When you finally open your eyes, the handcuffs are already placed upon your wrists by another guard.
“Where are you taking me?’’ you aren’t panicked.
If he wanted me dead, I would be.
Two arms grab your biceps as the guards guide you down many hallways and corridors, like a cow to a slaughterhouse.
God this is a maze, no wonder no one escapes The First fucking Order.
You finally come to a door. The guard to your right reaches over and presses some buttons on the control panel. You aren’t sure what to expect but it isn’t this. A bed in the middle of the well-sized room. Adorned with black, silk bed sheets and a simple comforter.
It was sizeably larger than the cell you called home over the past few weeks. An armoire to the left of the bed, made to look vintage with its intricate handles. An opening to your right indicates what you assume is the washroom. It was a simple yet practical room, your favourite part being the glass above your bed, allowing you to watch as endless space passes you by. You don’t even realize the guard had taken off your handcuffs until the door closes behind you.
Wait…is this my room? Is this… Kylo’s room?
Don’t be stupid y/n, you think the commander of the First order sleeps on a bloody double bed?
You push the thoughts aside and decide a long, private shower is well needed.
Your interactions with Kylo Ren are limited and mundane at first. He comes to your door periodically, asking about you and attempting to make small talk. Always curious, you listen with intent whenever he speaks. He has that quality about him, you were drawn to him. You always feel somewhat vulnerable under his gaze, the way he unapologetically scans your body while he has the luxury of hiding behind his mask. You desperately want to put a face to his smooth, polished voice.
Even those in The First Order aren’t immune to participating in some workplace gossip; it doesn’t take long for you to find out what had happened with Han Solo. A pang of concern rises in your body. For Kylo.
This guy kept you in a prison cell for weeks. He didn’t deserve your sympathy then, and he doesn’t deserve it now! Snap out of it.
You can’t help yourself. You’ve gotten to know him through the small conversations you had. And you knew about his complicated past.
That night was when you finally got a deeper look into Kylo Ren.
Impossibly, you don’t notice him when you first enter the room. Turning to sit on the foot of your bed, the light catches the silver planes of his mask. Sat at the armchair in the corner of your room, the air around him is tense. Well, more so than usual.
“Kylo, I-,” you start. Mentally cursing yourself for the pity than laced your voice.
“I don’t want your pity,” he interrupts.
Shit, all right.
What could you say? What did he expect you to say? What did he need you to say?
There’s a long silence.
You have to say something. That’s what you’re here for, right? To converse with him. No agenda.
You decide to tell him about yourself. About where you grew up, your family, your friends. Stupid moments and accomplishments from your childhood. Tales from your days of bounty hunting.
He asks a few questions along the way, sharing some small memories of his childhood with you. It goes on for hours. You could tell you had distracted him, even momentarily, from whatever was conspiring inside his mind. The conversation comes to a comfortable end. As he approaches your door, you can’t seem to control what you do next.
“Wait, Kylo!” you stand from your bed. He comes to a halt and throws a glance over his broad shoulder in your direction.
Oh god, please don’t kill me for this.
You set your eyes on his gloved left hand. You slowly reach for it, giving him ample time to flinch away from you, until you feel the smooth leather on your naked palm. There is a slight warmth as he gently closes his large hand, completely enveloping yours. Your body simultaneously feels as if it could melt into the ground and as tense as a pulled elastic.
“I’ll be here if you need to talk,” you give a gentle squeeze before starting to retract to your hand
In an instant, he spins around. Your balance faults as he pulls your hand higher to his chest. His right arm snakes around your waist in a vice grip, your breaths become shallow as your ribs struggle against the hold he has on your torso. You know at a moment’s notice he could crush your hand for overstepping your bounds or tighten his grip and permanently halt your breathing. It’s electrifying.
You’ve never been this close to him before, you could feel his black robes brush against your bare feet, you swear you can feel the warmth radiating from his body with the rise and fall of his chest. He towers over you, the top of your head barely reaching his chest, his broad shoulders acting as a barrier to anything behind him. You feel utterly trapped within Ren’s hold. Craning your head to meet his eyes, you are dissapointed to be only met with his indifferent, hostile black mask.
God, when will he take that stupid thing off?
He pulls you closer to him, the fingers splayed on your back tensing as he does so. You become hyperaware of your body and his. The space between you two slowly getting smaller.
And then he’s gone. He withdraws all contact, all at once. When you come to, you catch a glimpse of his black robes as the door slides closed in front of you.
It has been a few weeks since your last interaction. He comes to see you more sparsely now and keeps the conversations short and simple. Back to how you were. Meaningless small talk, your body cried out to be held by him again.
You think back to that night… truth be told you thought back to that night more times than you’d like to admit. It was the first time you felt any kind of meaningful connection with Kylo.
Hell, it was the first time you…felt Kylo.
You’ve been with your fair share of men, being on the road was lonely at times. You welcomed having someone to share a drink or a bed with, it was comforting slipping into a stranger’s warm embrace for the night. Temporary, nonchalant relationships. If you could even call them that.
But no man ever had you reaching for the wetness between your thighs every night like Kylo Ren did. No man ever had you biting your pillows at night to stifle your moans and whimpers as you fervently chased the familiar rush of pleasure. You felt betrayed by your body; every time you had a fleeting thought of him, of his scent, of the way his strong body towered over you, you were compelled to brush your hands against your core.
And you don’t even know what he looks like, good one!
You ache for the day you could feel his powerful frame against you, for the day he could bring you to that edge of pleasure. Repeatedly. You allow your mind to wonder about his mouth, his tongue, his capable hands, what lies between his strong, thick legs-
The familiar sound of your door closing rouses you out of your lewd daydream.
Oh god… why the fuck is he here? did he read my mind?
Fuck!!
Your body is ablaze. It isn’t obvious what you were about to do but you feel caught, you feel ambushed.
“Kylo?” you ask cautiously as you dare to glance up at him from your bed.
Silently, he reaches for the armchair at the corner of the bedroom and drags it across the floor until it sits directly in front of your bed. He settles into the chair; his long legs spread out as you fight every fibre of your being not to glance between his thighs.
“Kylo?” you repeated. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He cocks his head to the side, and you notice the light reflect off the silver of that damned mask.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commands.
Okay so I’m dreaming. Because Kylo Ren, the commander of the First Order and master of mood swings didn’t just order me to spread my fucken legs. Right?!
Your mind spirals as you instinctively clench your thighs together.
“What? NO! Are you crazy?” you ask defensively. “You shouldn’t even bother trying to use your powers on me, Ren.”
“I’m not,” he answers almost immediately, his voice calm. “I don’t need to use my powers on you… do I y/n?”
Fucking hell, he knew. Somehow. Shit.
“I ask you again,” he continues. “Lay back against the headboard and spread your legs.”
You aren’t able to see his eyes, but you knew where they were aimed. You can feel his gaze piercing through your body.
You scoot your body back until you meet the hard wood of the headboard, you raise yourself up on your forearms. It felt as if your body was vibrating.
“Your legs, y/n,” he firmly reminds you for the third time. You want to do as he orders; you really do. Clearly you aren’t thinking rationally.
Maybe I can get something out of this too…
“No,” you respond. You try to square off your shoulders and jut your chin out to more convincingly stand your ground. “This isn’t a fair trade, Ren,” you further explain.
You watch as one of his hands clutch the arm of the chair more tightly.
“You know I can take whatever I want.” His voice was alarmingly levelled and composed.
“You expect me to open myself up to you like this… when I haven’t even seen your face?” you rationalize. “Take off the mask, Kylo.”
You could hear the deep breath he took as it reverberates off the inside of his mask.
God damn it y/n! Why did you say that!? He’s just going to fucken leave and you’ll be left to your own devices… again.
He reaches for his gloved hand and take off the leather glove. And then the other.
God, how badly I want those beautiful fingers inside of me…
He reaches up and grasps the mask with both hands. You hear a click as the mask separates into parts. He brings the mask over his head and finally looks up at you.
Fucking hell… he’s gorgeous.
You can’t think of the words to describe him. Your eyes bore into his dark eyes, framed by long, beautiful black lashes.
You’ve seen him command the First Order to destroy villages and whole planets, seen him kill innocents in cold blood.
How does he look so innocent?
Images of him looking up at you from between your thighs flash across your mind. You take him in fully. Eyes scanning down to his full, pink lips, making a note of all the freckles that adorn his skin. You want to feel those lips everywhere on your body; licking, biting, sucking.
His hair…
So much longer than you had initially anticipated. Stars, to be able to weave your hands through his soft, black waves. You imagine what sounds he might make if you accidentally happened to tug on his hair.
You aren’t aware of how long you’ve been gawking at him, until he interrupts your vulgar thoughts.
“A deal is a deal y/n,” he sounds cocky.
Without moving your gaze, you let your thighs fall apart. You watch his eyes fall to your simple cotton underwear.
“Hmm…” he says, pleased. “I guess you’re excited to see me.”
You know what he’s referring to, you could feel the wet patch on your underwear growing in response to him.
“Your hands… rub yourself through your underwear.” How he manages to keep his voice so calm, you don’t know.
You feel your hands at your hips, slowly descending to your underwear. You rest one hand on your inner thigh as the other travels over the soft texture of the cotton, until your fingers barely caress your clit.
How am I so sensitive? this is going to be a long night…
A breathy sigh escapes your lips, hoping it didn’t make it to Kylo’s ears. The slight upturn of the corner of his lip says otherwise.
“Keep going,” he guides you. His voice sounding as if it was right beside your ear.
You slide your hand down further and slowly bring your fingers back up, spreading the wetness over your clit, over your underwear. You let your eyes fall close as you apply slight pressure, ready to get lost in that familiar high.
“Stop,” your eyes snap open.
No, Kylo…
“Glide your hands over your stomach… and your breasts,” you notice how his eyes have brightened.
You do as he says. The soft fabric of your shirt bunches up as you painstakingly drag your palms over your stomach. Goosebumps raising on your lower stomach as the skin is exposed to the cool air. Your hands travel to your sides, using your nails to apply gentle pressure to the skin as a chill travels down your spine. You bypass your breasts, deciding to slide your palms down your sternum to your stomach. Fingers hook onto the waistband of your underwear; you pull slightly, and the silence of the room is broken as the elastic slaps back against your skin. You roll your hips slowly, using a single finger to draw patterns on your skin as you slowly approach your breasts. Thighs rubbing together, you draw circles over your soft nipples. Looking back at Kylo as they come to attention underneath the flimsy garment.
He swallows, eyes completely trained on your writhing body in front of him.
You crane your neck and move it to the side while slowly allowing your eyes to close. Your hands naturally find their way to your breasts, squeezing roughly, as he would. You massage them, whimpers escaping your mouth as your back arches off the sheets beneath you.
“Squeeze your nipples y/n,” you’re pleased that he doesn’t sound completely unfazed by your little show.
You pinch your nipples roughly and pull, letting them spring back, more erect than before.
Let’s take some creative liberties…
One hand remains at your breast, toying with your nipples. While the other slowly travels downs your torso, coming to rest just above your clit.
“May I?” you ask with a soft voice, feigning innocence.
He simply nods as shifts in the chair.
You begin to rub tight circles around your clit, and you feel the waves of pleasure starting to rock through your body. Your movements become quicker as your eyes screw shut and your mouth falls open.
“Oh god… yes,” you breathe out, unable to keep quiet.
Hips bucking in sync with your fingers, your mind races as your body chases the high.
So close…
“Stop,” he interrupts. You had half a mind to just keep going, but you wanted to play his game. You pry your hands away as frustration clearly shows on your face.
He chuckles lowly, “don’t worry, I’ll get you there soon enough.”
You watch him as his hands rest suspiciously close to his member, you look up at him. Daring him to join you.
He waits a few moments, and you feel the waves of pleasure ebb away in your body.
“Again,” he orders. “Just like before… caress your body.”
Why is he doing this?!
You huff as your hands move down to your thighs this time, hands running over the goose bumps raised on your smooth flesh. Slowly moving up…
You don’t know how long it’s been. You don’t know how many times he’s brought you to the edge only to roughly tear you back from it. You’re dripping, the wet patch of your underwear dripping down into the sheets underneath you. You feel it rubbing against your folds, slick and ready. Not for your fingers, for the man sitting in front of you. For the man palming his growing erection through his pants.
“Good girl…,” You don’t know how much more you can take. “Again.”
How long was he planning on doing this? Is he ever actually going to let me cum?!
You feel as if you have no strength in your body, your body ready to melt into the sheets.
No y/n… you must play his game. Let him know he isn’t the one with all the power.
You cease the movement of your hands. Digging your palms into the mattress, you lift yourself up into a sitting position, realizing your back is slick with sweat. You breathe hard as tendrils of your hair stick to your forehead.
“Enough,” you strain. You revel in the confused expression plastered over his pronounced features. “You’re not the only one with power here, Kylo.”
You ungraciously throw your legs over the side of the bed and stand up on shaky legs. You sway your hips and saunter over to him. The apex of your thighs coated in your wetness. You want to so badly straddle his muscular legs, to feel him inside of you, hear his groans against your ear as he loses control.
No… you can’t let him win.
You place yourself in the space between your bed and him. He looks up at you; waiting, aroused, excited. You notice that the bulge in his trousers is more pronounced at this closer view. You turn sharply on your heels, so that your back is turned to him.
You take a deep breath in and hook your shaky fingers to the waistband of your underwear and peel them down your legs, making sure to keep your legs straight and back arched. Your shirt rides up to give him a perfect view of what he will be missing. The underwear pools at your bare feet. You step out of it, reaching to hook it onto your index finger.
You wish you could take a picture of him when you turned around. Brows furrowed, mouth agape, eyes trained on your dripping core. He could smell your scent too, you certainly could.
You hold the black fabric in front of his face as he finally peels his eyes way from your core. You raise an eyebrow, expectantly.
He brings a hand to lightly grasp the wet piece of cotton.
“Think of this as a souvenir, Ren.” You cheer in your head at your victory. You make your way to the armoire at the side of the bed.
You swing the doors open as you dig through the drawer looking for…
Perfect… time to give him a taste of his own medicine.
You grab what you need and close the doors, making your way back to the bed. You’re glad to see he’s still in his position, body locked into place.
You resume your position; your forearms holding you up, legs spread as your wetness shines in the light, his view now unobstructed. You knew that even if he wanted to, he couldn’t leave.
You bring up the object and examine it. His eyes dart to your hands, realizing what you were about to do.
You bring the toy to your mouth. He hungrily licks his lips as you give a coy smile. You start to kiss the head of it, and move down to the shaft, flattening your tongue and licking a stripe along the underside. All the while keeping your eyes trained on Kylo’s face, he looks hypnotized by your actions. You make sure the toy is wet enough, not like it mattered.
You lay back, propping yourself up on one elbow to make sure he could watch your face as you took yourself over the edge, finally. You slide the toys head along your folds, using it to part them open. You watch his eyes as you push the toy slowly inside of you, a moan catches in your throat. Your walls stretch as you enter it further into your core until it sits snug inside of you. You circle the toy inside of you, to make sure Kylo gets an excellent look at the juices coating the silicone toy.
You start to move it in and out, faster than you would have liked to, but you’ve waited long enough. The pressure starts to build quickly, within minutes.
“Oh… Kylo,” his eyes are wild, clearly regretting the games he played prior. “Faster… please Kylo.”
You fall back on the bed as you thrust the toy at an increasing pace, the pain of it budging against your cervix the perfect counterpart to the immense pleasure you feel building in your body.
“Ahh! Yes... Please don’t stop…,” nonsense pours from your lips as your mind numbs. “Keep going… please.”
“Y/N…,” he sounds almost encouraging.
Hips bucking wildly, your free hand comes to your breast, squeezing and massaging as roughly as you could. As roughly as he would.
Just a few more…
You pace is unrelenting, eagerly chasing the high.
You feel a slight scream leave your lips as it finally washes over you… after hours of torture at Kylo’s hand.
You turn your head and bite the pillow as you keep thrusting the toy inside of you, wanting to ride out your high for as long as possible.
You finally slow the movements of your hands. Your sex feeling swollen and well fucked. You bask in the aftershocks as your body comes down, shaking and spasming slightly. You try to close your thighs as you bring up your hand to your face, wiping the sweat from your brow.
As you struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows, you share a long look with Kylo. His jaw tight, knuckles white from clenching the arm of the chair while he roughly continues to palm his growing bulge through his trousers. You bring your eyes down to your core as you slowly retract the toy.
Holy shit…
Covered in your wetness and white, slick liquid. You have an ounce of shyness before you push it aside. You use every bit of strength you can muster to push yourself up from the bed. You walk over to him, with the toy in hand. No strength left in your body to be graceful.
“Would you like a taste, Kylo?” He looks up at you with those big dark eyes, black curls framing his features, as his plump lips part slightly.
“Yes,” the softest you’ve ever heard him speak.
You gather some of the wetness on your thumb and bring it to his awaiting lips, he cradles your wrist as he wraps his lips around your thumb. You feel his warm tongue snake around your digit, licking up all you had to offer. Releasing your clean thumb with a pop, you outline his lips with a feather light touch. How badly you want to feel those lips on yours, moving together perfectly.
You give him one last look and left for the washroom.
****
You wash and sanitize the toy as well as your sweat slick body. You allow your muscles to relax in the steam. Smiling, you re-live what it felt like to have Kylo’s lips wrapped around your finger.
You walk out of the washroom, perfectly content and ready to fall into a deep slumber and deal with the consequences of your little show later.
“How do you feel y/n?” His voice breaks somewhat startles you.
“Oh… I thought you had left,” you stuttered. What was he still doing here?
“I feel…satiated.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
No thanks to you, Kylo.
You proceed with your normal routine, as you walk past him to the armoire and reach for the lavender lotion. You prop your leg up on the bed and lather your legs in the sweet-smelling lotion.
“Need some help?” It wasn’t a question as he’s already walking over to you. You notice he had taken off his cloak and robe, leaving him only in his black trousers and simple shirt. You were wrong when you thought he was well built before.
He stands behind you and reaches for the tub of lotion from you.
He harshly tugs the towel away; you stand completely naked in front of him as you feel your body heat up.
Wordlessly, he slathers the lotion on his hands, and you feel his large hands at your hips. You look forward, unable to move or say anything. So eager to feel his hands before, and now your body overwhelmed with the sensation. He squeezes your hips roughly, giving your ass light smack before moving up your back. You could feel his hot breath fanning over your shoulder as he had lowered his head to your ear.
“You disobeyed my orders, girl.”
Fuck.
His hands snake around your ribs and hold your breasts, instinctively you lean back into his chest. Giving them a rough squeeze, he twists your nipples, calling them to attention. You whimper as the skin starts to bruise.
His hands travel down your arms, gently grazing your skin. You were too distracted by his touches to notice him wrapping his hands tightly against your wrists. He pulls them behind you and pushes them into your back, forcing your chest forward and pushing your breasts forward. Your knees hit the bed and soon after you fall onto the bed. Kylo repositions you with your hands still held behind your back, so that your face was pressed against the still damp sheets. Your ass high in the air, to do with as he pleased.
“When you disobey my orders,” he whispers in your ear as your entire body trembles with anticipation. “You get punished.”
or: why striving for power will not save our problems
1. Racism is one form to use and concentrate power.
2. Always when power is concentrated it happens for the good or advantage of one certain group - the group which is concentrating this power
3. In oder to enlarge and concentrate power you need to know that power and its concentration is managed via a certain set of rules
4. These rules are set up by the group which is dominating the system at a certain moment
5. This means that if you strive to enlarge the power of one group you have to follow the rules which determine who has power, what is power and how power is becoming visible, is showing its impact in reality
6. This rules in our case are determined since hundreds of years by the system. Which is opressing us
7. Even if the opressed group manages to initiate a shift of power for their advantage this also means that this shif of power is only possible by following exactly those rules which are made to opress those who are not in power
8. Evenif the opressed group manages to initiate a shift opf power fortheir advantage it is very propable that they are only able to keep that power by again repeating the existing patterns of opression
9. This is no moral question. It is a system-immanent answer
10. The system of power is built on people striving for power
11. The system of power is built on people following the rule-set of power and power-shifting
12. A power shift is nothing else than the mirrored repetition of opression
13. The fear of losing this power, the purpose of keeping power is the reason for opressive patterns
14. This fear is an immanent part of power - and at the same time it is its biggest weakness
15. If we want to fight opression, we need to go beyond the patterns of power and its rules, its order - otherwise we stay inside a neverending circle of elements opressing each other
16. This is why the real wy to stop opression and to play out neverending power-shifts is to leave the box of its rules, its patterns
17. Power and in this case its rules is based on a simple equation containing those in power and those not in power
18. Those in power are the opressors - those not in power are the opressed
19. Those in power cannot exist without the opressed
20. Those in power fear losing their power
21. Those in power lose their power if the opressed stop striving for power
22. Power here is defined as the certain ruleset explained until this point
23. Those opressed are striving for power hoping for a change
24. Those opressed forget that striving for power means striving to stay within the cage and ruleset of power
25. Those opressed forget about their biggest power
26. The biggest power of the opressed is having no power
27. The biggest power of the opressed is having no fear of losing power (because they have none defined trough the patterns and rules in place defining opression as main way to keep power)
28. Power is an illusion of opressors built by the patterns of a certain ruleset defining power
29. Power is an illusion of opressors built on the adoption that everyone wants to have and be in power
30. Power is an illusion for the opressed built on the adoption that being in power would lead to change (but it does not)
31. Change can not be reached by repeating and following the ruleset of power in place - as it is made to opress those not in power
32. Change can not be reached within this closed system
33. Change is only possible if on one of those 2 sides inside the equation of power one variable/factor would be changed
34. If the equation of power is : Dominating Factors opress Marginalized Factors - the marginalized factors can only switch to the other side and become the new Dominating Factors (which will opress in order to keep their power)
35. This means that change is not to find inside the equation of power because the ruleset of it will always be determined by the Dominating. Factors
36. This means that change can only be found by changing the ruleset itself
37. The ruleset of power is just one ruleset of many rulesets in this world
38. The ruleset of change is not working inside the ruleset of power as it has to operate one level (or many levels) above the power ruleset
39. I repeat why: Striving for real change can not mean to operate with the existing ruleset of power
40. Operating in this case includes following and breaking the rules as you act within the system
41. Change is initiated by operating at the level above „power“
42. This level is the value-structure determining the reasons why people strive for power
43. It means that we should strive for a shift of values - a much more complex process than a shift of power
44. Shifting values in the end will also shift power - but beyond that it will change the ruleset of power
45. Dont strive for power and its rules
46. Strive for the values that will change these rules
47. Operating on the level of values is a transgenerational process, the process of determining the Zeitgeist of one generation, the mindset of many generations, the path of humanity
48. Its not about having the power to decide something. Thats a low level operation.
49. Its about determining the rules of values on a high level operation - which the leaders of the future have to follow in order to enlarge their power on the low level operation.
50. If you choose to leave the equation in which you are the opressed group - the equation doesnt work any more
51. If you choose to change the equation you have to operate on the higher level equation (values) determining the factors of the lower equation (power)
52. To understand in a simple way: Dictator-Regimes and Democratic Systems differn on the level of values - how they act to keep and enlarege their power (factors in low level operations of power) is determined by the values (higher level equation)
53. Power Shifts are possible within middle-term time-frames - if you follow the existing ruleset of power - but it will empower and repeat systems of opression inside it
54. Value Shifts are a long-term, transgenerational process - but by following this path you leav the equation of opression, expose the weakness of the systems power at the present moment and change the variables/factors of how power is reached and kept in the future
55. There is no opression without the opressed
56. There is no power without powerless
57. There is no change through „simple“ power-shifts
58. Change is possible through value shifts which will rewrite the ruleset of having and enlarging power in the future
59. If that change is reached through the level of values - a power shift will not be necessary anymore as „power“ will be defined and determined by a new ruleset
60. The biggest power of the opressed is having no power - and implicitly - no fear of losing power in the context of the opressing ruleset
Our ZETOR PROXIMA series tractors are hard workers equipped with a Semi-Powershift transmission and a hydraulic Power Shuttle reverser. Test it. You can drive them at your the nearest ZETOR dealer - see more https://zetorna.com/zetor-p100-series-tractors
I had a dream which made me feel quite powerful. I saw a man i liked loved even and i walked up to him infront of everyone in the room grabbed him and kissed him and then walked away. In that moment i felt power. I could feel him wanting me and i could feel the power dynamics change. I was no longer the little girl running after him but the queen he watched walk away. He saw the crown on my head and it only made him love me more as he stepped up behind me my king.
Knowledge itself, therefore, turns out to be not only the source of the highest-quality power, but also the most important ingredient of force and wealth. Put differently, knowledge has gone from being an adjunct of money power and muscle power, to being their very essence. It is, in fact, the ultimate amplifier. This is the key to the power shift that lies ahead, and it explains why the battle for control of knowledge and the means of communication is heating up all over the world.
Synopsis: Mitch Jensen knows what it’s like to have nothing and claw your way up from the bottom. Living with nothing growing up, he always strives to help those in need. Except, he’s never met someone who didn’t want his help.
Scarlett James is running from a life she never wanted but was too afraid to leave. Free from the man who was destroying her, she now has to find her way and build a new life for her and her son.
All Mitch wants to do is give Scarlett what she needs and deserves but with the walls Scarlett has built around her heart, Mitch can’t find a way in.
Will Scarlett let Mitch in, discovering that not all men are bad? Or will her past consume her, keeping her from what she’s always wanted?
