First : renounce money. Then say :We are a tribe. Then say "what do we need to survive ?". Answer "food, clothes, and some items". Then realize that you need very little work, something like 1 year in 10 to have these for all for free. Including producing the machines that make them. So people work much less, take turns working, and have the basics. Something like the army - you work 4 years of your life then you are replaced, then you get for free basic stuff forever. Storehouses are created full of these. You get what you need from there. Nobody will take more than he needs - he can't sell it because everyone has these, and money do no exist.
Now, do you want more than the basics ? Except those 4 years you have a free life to socialize, find people with the same interests and build whatever you want.
If you are happy with the basics - it's ok. But people will not just eat sleep and wait to die. People are not like that. Give them freedom - not weekend freedom and you will see.
Or go ahead, think like a slave. Let's destroy these machines, they steal our work ! See the luddites above. Instead of let's change our organziation and work a lot less using the machines. And the main thing : escape this stress of needing work to do. You will only do it when you feel you need something done.
http://www.orionmagazine.org/index.php/ ... icle/2962/
$this->bbcode_second_pass_quote('', 'I')n a 1927 interview with the magazine Nation’s Business, Secretary of Labor James J. Davis provided some numbers to illustrate a problem that the New York Times called “need saturation.” Davis noted that “the textile mills of this country can produce all the cloth needed in six months’ operation each year” and that 14 percent of the American shoe factories could produce a year’s supply of footwear. The magazine went on to suggest, “It may be that the world’s needs ultimately will be produced by three days’ work a week.”
Business leaders were less than enthusiastic about the prospect of a society no longer centered on the production of goods. For them, the new “labor-saving” machinery presented not a vision of liberation but a threat to their position at the center of power. John E. Edgerton, president of the National Association of Manufacturers, typified their response when he declared: “I am for everything that will make work happier but against everything that will further subordinate its importance. The emphasis should be put on work—more work and better work.” “Nothing,” he claimed, “breeds radicalism more than unhappiness unless it is leisure.”
By the late 1920s, America’s business and political elite had found a way to defuse the dual threat of stagnating economic growth and a radicalized working class in what one industrial consultant called “the gospel of consumption”—the notion that people could be convinced that however much they have, it isn’t enough. President Herbert Hoover’s 1929 Committee on Recent Economic Changes observed in glowing terms the results: “By advertising and other promotional devices . . . a measurable pull on production has been created which releases capital otherwise tied up.” They celebrated the conceptual breakthrough: “Economically we have a boundless field before us; that there are new wants which will make way endlessly for newer wants, as fast as they are satisfied.”
Today “work and more work” is the accepted way of doing things. If anything, improvements to the labor-saving machinery since the 1920s have intensified the trend. Machines can save labor, but only if they go idle when we possess enough of what they can produce. In other words, the machinery offers us an opportunity to work less, an opportunity that as a society we have chosen not to take. Instead, we have allowed the owners of those machines to define their purpose: not reduction of labor, but “higher productivity”—and with it the imperative to consume virtually everything that the machinery can possibly produce.


