Occupation is a Freak Show: ALL POWER TO THE FREAKS!

BLOG POST posted on Octobre 28, 2011 by d.

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text & images from a zine published by Moment of Insurrection, that is being tossed around at the Occupation:

http://momentofinsurrection.wordpress.com/occupation-is-fucking-freak-show-all-power-to-the-freaks-and-notes-for-we-antagonists/

d.

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ALL POWER TO THE FREAKS!

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What a fuckin freak show! Down here, We don’t need a weatherman to tell Us which way the winds blow. Down here, Freaks Rule, – Yippie! The Occupation is a commune: ALL POWER TO THE COMMUNES! Dig the library, where comrades are playing chess and reading the Art of War, Dig the kitchen where We feed each other and wash our own dishes, Dig the healing tent, jam space, art tent, dig the vibe which is a dagger in the ribs of empire. The freaks are rising and bringing the shit down!

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This is a war for peace, a war for territory, a war for deterritorialization, class war, social war, anti-imperial resistance. We are a fuckin WARMACHINE! The Occupation is centrifugal,- in its dispersal of Popular Power in the Streets; We are a new society at war against the old state, We commit class suicide & exodus from history: ‘those who have a history, – its one of violent class war. Those without a history, – its one of war against the state’.

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We melt into a vagueness of runaway kids smoking weed with tripped-out hippies, chewed-up-and-spat-out. Tents erected in barricades of pallets, from the back a freak calls for a: ‘Mic Check!’ … ‘FUCK THE POLICE’. It is in the midst of vagueness, affinities starved for survival- who want to eat on the flesh of capital, come into contact with one another and grow more confident; Clandestine cells take secret oaths to defend the camp around candle light, smoking butts and drinking herbal tea.

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Outside the Pharos forces amasses against Us: – white trash rednecks working for the man- these union card-carrying city workers circling for a fight. The pigs itch to crack skulls. These are the errand boys of Command, which idles patiently on the curb. Configurations of hostility evoke occultist predictions of doom, ranging from Suzan Anton to Chem.-trails; the sorcery of Spectacle wishes to render Us invisible. Fools! Our life force is that of negation. This is CIVIL WAR of Us against all those lackey pigs. Any which way you wrap you head around it, this is a State of Emergency and We will each call our own tune and dance in the sludge of paranoia and conspiracy theory’s, cause ‘not even the dogs that piss on the walls of Babylon shall be saved’

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Ask a freak why We are here: ‘all We can say when asked, is what We each feel’, such is the poem of We freaks becoming a new form of life welcoming the coming community. A rebel commune where the Man can’t put his finger on Us. Those who appear closest to a leader speak with a corpse in their mouth. We swirl and dance and drum and beat box and rant and fuck and get high. We mistrust, and snitch and provoke and incite; what the fuck are the pigs gonna do!?  Provocateurism would be cheered for its enthusiasm! The only way sneaky-dick can establish himself is through false leaders- but that pig-piñata would be strung up.

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We are not a parallel society- we are a COUNTERPOWER. We will resist invasion while digging deeper into the guts of the Beast.  We are a metaphysical charter of the phantasmagoric planetary-offensive. This site is Occupied by the Cosmopolitan Indians- Tahrir Square Faction, bringin’ the fuckin ruckus straight outta the streets of Syria. We are the COUNTERPOWER PARTY FOR SELF DEFENCE and our program is infinite; We choose these words the Black Panthers Speak and We Mic-check their style:‘We draw pictures that show Standard Oil in milk bottles launched at Rockefeller with wicks made of cloth from I Magnin and J Magnin –pictures of Chinese fire works in gunpowder form aimed at the heart of the enemy—Bank of America—pictures of pigs hanging by their tongues wrapped with barbed wire connected to your local power plant.’

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So listen up, not all the hippies went to the coastal islands to die; We reappear to avenge the ages that rose in defeat. All the partisans and runaway slaves, maroons and ghost dances, free kitchens and health clinics, squats and tree houses, converge as phantoms in this specter of GLOBAL INTIFADA that haunts empire. These occupations are the grave of civilization, the stronger Our relations are autonomous from the state, the quickening emergence of whatever this is becoming.

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d.