We are altogether too pathetic for our Middlesex audience, we agree. Our vague communism. Our communist pathos.
We await our Marx, we agree. Perhaps he's somewhere on Middlesex campus, diagnosing the crisis of our time. Perhaps we'll meet him today, for whom we will only be the rubbish to be cleared away.
'Our task must be unsparing criticism, directed even more against our self-styled friends than against our declared enemies', Marx wrote. Our self-styled friends: the phrase makes us tremble with passion. It's us! He's referring to us!
Idiocy!, that's what our Marx will scrawl in his notebook as he listens to us. Stupidity! underlined. Foolishness!, practically ground into the page …
Lars Iyer's Blog 