On the negative, the strat should probably be irony good, imperialism good, and then off case args (DA’s, CP’s, etc)
Additionally, any Kritik questioning the actions taken by the affirmative can also be read
Irony is an endless game of illusions that promotes tyrannical ideas of inaction like a genocidal state
Wallace, 97 (David Foster, Professor of Creative Writing and English at Pomona College, “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do again,” pgs 66-68)
So then how have irony, irreverence, and rebellion come to be not liberating but enfeebling in the culture today's avant-garde tries to write about? One clue's to be found in the fact that irony is still around, bigger than ever after 30 long years as the dominant mode of hip expression. It's not a rhetorical mode that wears well. As Hyde (whom I pretty obviously like) puts it, "Irony has only emergency use. Carried over time, it is the voice of the trapped who have come to enjoy their cage:'32 This is because irony, entertaining as it is, serves an almost exclusively negative function. It's critical and destructive, a ground-clearing. Surely this is the way our postmodern fathers saw it. But irony's singularly unuseful when it comes to constructing anything to replace the hypocrisies it debunks. This is why Hyde seems right about persistent irony being tiresome. It is unmeaty. Even gifted ironists work best in sound bites. I find gifted ironists sort of wickedly fun to listen to at parties, but I always walk away feeling like I've had several radical surgical procedures. And as for actually driving cross-country with a gifted ironist, or sitting through a 300-page novel full of nothing but trendy sardonic exhaustion, one ends up feeling not only empty but somehow . . . oppressed. Think, for a moment, of Third World rebels and coups. Third World rebels are great at exposing and overthrowing corrupt hypocritical regimes, but they seem noticeably less great at the mundane, non-negative task of then establishing a superior governing alternative. Victorious rebels, in fact, seem best at using their tough, cynical rebel-skills to avoid being rebelled against themselves — in other words, they just become better tyrants. And make no mistake: irony tyrannizes us. The reason why our pervasive cultural irony is at once so powerful and so unsatisfying is that an ironist is impossible to pin down. All U.S. irony is based on an implicit "I don't really mean what I'm saying." So what does irony as a cultural norm mean to say? That it's impossible to mean what you say? That maybe it's too bad it's impossible, but wake up and smell the coffee already? Most likely, I think, today's irony ends up saying: "How totally banal of you to ask what I really mean." Anyone with the heretical gall to ask an ironist what he actually stands for ends up looking like an hysteric or a prig. And herein lies the oppressiveness of institutionalized irony, the too-successful rebel: the ability to interdict the question without attending to its subject is, when exercised, tyranny. It is the new junta, using the very tool that exposed its enemy to insulate itself.
Irony is a decoy that devoids us from real activism
Goerlandt, 06 (Iannis, Professor at Ghent University, “Put the Book Down and Slowly Walk Away:” Irony and David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest, Volume 47, Issue 3, Spring, Proquest)
Hutcheon also spots the possibility of complacency in irony: irony becomes a kind of surrogate for actual resistance and opposition. Ironists have been accused of smugness before, [. . .] but this time it is the interpreter too who is not being let off the hook. Even worse, irony is seen by some to have become a cliché of contemporary culture, a "convention for establishing complicity," a "screen for bad faith" [. . .]. What was once an "avenue of dissent" is now seen as "a commodity in its own right" [. . .]. This position is usually articulated in terms of contrast: the "authentic" or "sincere" past versus the ironic present of the "total" ironist [. . .] whose use of what is interpreted as a mode of "monadic relativism" [. . .] prevents taking any stand on any issue. (28)9
Neg- Plan Cannot Solve
Endless investigation of power makes real struggles against oppression impossible.
Hicks, 03- Professor and chair of philosophy at Queens College of the CUNY (Steven V., “Nietzsche, Heidegger, and Foucault: Nihilism and Beyond,” Foucault and Heidegger: Critical Encounters, Ed. Alan Milchman and Alan Rosenberg, p. 109, Questia)
Hence, the only “ethico-political choice” we have, one that Foucault thinks we must make every day, is simply to determine which of the many insidious forms of power is “the main danger” and then to engage in an activity of resistance in the “nexus” of opposing forces. 72 “Unending action is required to combat ubiquitous peril.” 73 But this ceaseless Foucauldian “recoil” from the ubiquitous power perils of “normalization” precludes, or so it would seem, formulating any defensible alternative position or successor ideals. And if Nietzsche is correct in claiming that the only prevailing human ideal to date has been the ascetic ideal, then even Foucauldian resistance will continue to work in service of this ideal, at least under one of its guises, viz., the nihilism of negativity. Certainly Foucault's distancing of himself from all ideological commitments, his recoiling from all traditional values by which we know and judge, his holding at bay all conventional answers that press themselves upon us, and his keeping in play the “twists” and “recoils” that question our usual concepts and habitual patterns of behavior, all seem a close approximation, in the ethicopolitical sphere, to the idealization of asceticism.
Critiques of power are so localized that they prevent coalition from forming that could genuinely fight oppression.
Cook, 92- Associate Professor at Georgetown Law School (Anthony E., “A Diversity of Influence: Reflections on Postmodernism, Spring, 26 New Eng.L. Rev. 751, Lexis)
Several things trouble me about Foucault's approach. First, he nurtures in many ways an unhealthy insularity that fails to connect localized struggle to other localized struggles and to modes of oppression like classism, racism, sexism, and homophobia that transcend their localized articulation within this particular law school, that particular law firm, within this particular church or that particular factory. I note among some followers of Foucault an unhealthy propensity to rely on rich, thick, ethnographic type descriptions of power relations playing themselves out in these localized laboratories of social conflict. This reliance on detailed description and its concomitant deemphasis of explanation begins, ironically, to look like a regressive positivism which purports to sever the descriptive from the normative, the is from the ought and law from morality and politics. Unless we are to be trapped in this Foucaultian moment of postmodern insularity, we must resist the temptation to sever description from explanation. Instead, our objective should be to explain what we describe in light of a vision embracing values that we make explicit in struggle. These values should act as magnets that link our particularized struggles to other struggles and more global critiques of power. In other words, we must not, as Foucault seems all too willing to do, forsake the possibility of more universal narratives that, while tempered by postmodern insights, attempt to say and do something about the oppressive world in which we live. Second, Foucault's emphasis on the techniques and discourses of knowledge that constitute the human subject often diminishes, if not abrogates, the role of human agency. Agency is of tremendous importance in any theory of oppression, because individuals are not simply constituted by systems of knowledge but also constitute hegemonic and counter-hegemonic systems of knowledge as well. Critical theory must pay attention to the ways in which oppressed people not only are victimized by ideologies of oppression but the ways they craft from these ideologies and discourses counter-hegemonic weapons of liberation.