first communique from the house across the street from the liberated territories of a grocery outlet parking lot; april 2016
SHOOT THE CLOCK! we cant longer stand the intolerable anxiety of civilization, i guess. There was three of us using laptops on a couch. I had just finished downloading some shape files for a heat engine. We were on some techie bullshit, talking about how to build machines that build machines. Physics was making my brain hurt, so i decided to read some mindless bullshit from the anarchist cool kids. Its a bad habit, but it's like candy, i can't help it. I love buzzwords.
Did you know thanksgiving is bad? Did you know cops kill people? It bears repeating i guess. Not too long ago most people didn't know how to read, so i guess it'll take a while to bring everybody up to speed on the basic facts of life in trumps america. so anyway today in greece, black clad youths crucified a trade minister, so it must be friday, and some goofs in oly seem to be getting drunk on the train tracks.
Which is cool. looks like fun. i used to throw rocks at commuter trains all the time when i was a kid . good times. plexiglass windows.
But you jagaloons need to proof read your communiques.
First of all, what the fuck is a 9 page zine about unionism doing in your 3 page rant about bio-electric veganism? what did the wobs ever do to you that you have to take hours out of your busy-but-unscheduled day to kick the political equivalent of a very old dog? The wobs are great. I like their shtick. It's cute. Are you worried they are going to picket your coffee shop or what? How the fuck are you so out of touch that you think it's ever appropriate to devote that much time and effort to telling the IWW that Joe Hill is dead? You are giving good people headaches. Please allow me to do with 5 words what you couldn't do with 8028: UNIONS ARE DEAD. WORK SUCKS. And with that, we'll just traipse along without bringing up health insurance, the enclosure of the commons, our estrangement from our parents, or the glory and stupidity of wasted years spent struggling for the priveledge of meeting another day.
Onward, communards! Onwards til tomorrow, and the endless rage of time! But the future, unfortunately, is now. And now you have fucked up. I thought you guys were cool. I thought the days of olympia black blocs pepper spraying homeless people and pissing yourselves on the way to jail were over. There is no safer place in north america to be a collegiate radical. There is no more meaningless or more comfortable place to throw your body against the mechanisms of power than olympia washington. Ya'll are a goof troop. An entertainment collective. Next time don't make me read 12 pages of stupid faux-vegan soysauce to find out why you shit-talked the space program. You know what you did. Look at this shit:
"Amidst smoldering ruins and tepid empty seas, amidst the floods and droughts, amidst the mass die-offs that are already happening year after year, we are those partisans for a life in common that leaves nothing out, that incurs its own costs, that suffers its own losses and mortalities with dignity and grace, without multiplying and offsetting them onto others like fucking bastards and guaranteeing a grid crash that we will blame on any messenger bold enough to name it, anyone with the honesty of a child who points out, once again, that the Emperor still wears no clothes."
STEAL THE MOTHERFUCKING MOON, ASSHOLES.