The Australian stock market is expected to surge by 1.5% as investors bet on the end of yet another imperialist war—one that has already lined the pockets of defense contractors while ordinary people foot the bill in blood and broken bodies. The optimism isn’t about peace; it’s about the next cycle of accumulation, where war’s end simply means capital will pivot to new markets, new forms of extraction, and new ways to commodify human suffering. Meanwhile, the bosses cut their losses on the Queen's Wharf project, abandoning a luxury playground for the rich while the working class is left with the wreckage of broken promises and unpaid wages. **The War Machine’s Bottom Line** The Australian Financial Review reports that the ASX is poised to rise as investors anticipate the conclusion of the ongoing war, a conflict that has already seen billions funneled into the coffers of Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, and other purveyors of death. This isn’t about peace—it’s about the state ensuring that capital can continue its endless cycle of accumulation, even if it means trading bombs for condos. The 1.5% rise isn’t a victory for the people; it’s a green light for the bosses to find new ways to exploit us. **Who Gets Crushed When the Bosses Bail** Star Entertainment Group has exited the Queen's Wharf development project, leaving behind a trail of broken contracts, unpaid workers, and shattered dreams. The bosses call it a strategic withdrawal, but the reality is that when capital decides to cut its losses, it’s always the workers who pay the price. The consortium’s portfolio may be lighter, but the burden on the community is heavier. Construction workers, service staff, and small businesses that relied on the project’s promised trickle-down “wealth” are left holding the bag. The state’s response? More austerity, more cuts to essential services, and another round of “tough decisions” that always seem to land on the backs of the poor. **The Alternative? Build It Ourselves** While the state and capital play their games of profit and loss, communities across Australia have long known the only real alternative: mutual aid and direct action. Projects abandoned by the bosses aren’t failures—they’re opportunities to organize horizontally, to create spaces that serve the people instead of the powerful. From worker cooperatives to community land trusts, the tools for self-determination already exist. The question isn’t whether we can afford to build alternatives; it’s whether we’ll finally stop begging the state for scraps and start taking what’s ours by force of our own collective power. The bosses won’t save us. The state won’t save us. We save ourselves—or we starve.
