SLRPNK

1,402 readers
138 users here now

What is Solarpunk?

A SolarPunk Manifesto

Basic Rules:

be constructive: there is no need of another internet space full of competition, negativity, rage etc.;
no bigotry, including racism, sexism, ableism, transphobia, homophobia or xenophobia;
be empathic: empathy is more rebellious than a middle finger;
no porn and no gore: let's keep this place easy to manage;
no ads / spamming / flooding, we don't want to buy/consume your commodified ideas;
occasional self-promotion by active members is fine.

For any community related question or to just test some function: !meta@slrpnk.net

Try our Photon & Alexandrite frontends.

Or try our lightweight UI and Voyager mobile UI.

All accounts also work with XMPP chat automatically incl. our Movim client.

If you need to jointly brainstorm on your next Solarpunk text, try our Etherpad.

And don't miss our Wiki.

founded 2 years ago

ADMINS

The Window Smashing Job Creators - Paid Protestor's Blues (thewindowsmashingjobcreators.bandcamp.com)

submitted 1 year ago by j_roby to c/music

0 comments fedilink

this song is a joke making fun of the ridiculous delusions and conspiracy theories of the far right. Their illusion that george soros controls the radical left is ridiculous, unfounded, and anti-Semitic

Lyrics:

I've got that George Soros money, and I am still waiting on that check, I've got that George Soros money, to pay for my broken neck, I've got that George Soros money, it is the only money for me, all of that George Soros money bought me all this LSD,

I've got that George Soros money, where do you think we got these guns? I've got that George Soros money, to pay for all of our bailfunds, I've got that George Soros money, it is the only money for me, all of that George Soros money bought me all this DMT,

Don't got that George Soros money, so we will work for free instead, Don't got that George Soros money, but I've got this loaf of bread, and if you want a piece just ask, we'll drink out of an empty flash, then wake up on the dead shores of tomorrow,

We will gather up our sober selves, snort the dust off of our bookshelves, and then give gifts until there is nothing left to borrow,