tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1403893183754755206.post1538249089304038264..comments2009-08-14T07:41:11.755-07:00the Institute for Experimental Freedomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04205527558614933279noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1403893183754755206.post-61149942551388378812009-08-14T07:41:11.755-07:002009-08-14T07:41:11.755-07:00I wonder what they would have said to marx 150 years ago.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1403893183754755206.post-87185256166288675342009-06-30T23:57:35.248-07:002009-06-30T23:57:35.248-07:00God?<br /><br />Life is a mystery<br />Everyone must stand alone<br />I hear you call My name<br />and it feels<br />like<br />home<br /> dun duh dun duh...Liam Sionnachnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1403893183754755206.post-7688345340899392702009-06-29T18:20:33.684-07:002009-06-29T18:20:33.684-07:00Seriously, HOLY FUCK! Can we stop all the political jargon for one minute, clear our grossly priviliged and annoying throats of their shit-filled, dead-end, cyclic wanderings, and just say what we desire, do what we want, and feel without hesitation or delay? Or, alternately, are we forced to resort to the same trite symbols of our esoteric language and academic-rooted rhetoric over and over again just to boost our own intellectual self-esteem and feign eloquence at the cost of any direct meaning?<br /><br />So much time and energy goes into the compilation and creation of theoretical discourse that mostly ends up taking the form of: &quot;blah blah blah&quot;. But it is my contention, that more often than not(to the radical minded human critter wary of political discourse and critical theory even if its slapped with a pretty, market friendly anarcho label) such cryptic and, simply put, failed attempts to communicate mostly serve to alienate radicals from those whom we have come to depend upon to reassure our queerness, otherness or whatever word you want to assign for feeling dislocated from much of humanity, both internally and externally speaking. Why not fuck a friend, through a brick at a bank, or simply cut oneself open if only for the painful joy of biological self-discovery? Wouldn&#39;t any of the aforementioned objects provide more immediate satisfaction, quicker, hotter blood flow, and most importantly MORE FUCKING FEELING than taking the time, as I am now, to milk our smug little brains onto sterile computer screens? I&#39;d rather smear my own blood on this page than peck out words, and yet, I&#39;m not, and I would venture to predict that the the same is often true of yourself in relation to your own inner wants and needs. When it comes to actualizing desire, I proclaim that you mostly don&#39;t. You&#39;re broken by the same system you to live to abhor. You exist much of your waking life in abstractions. I am just like you, but I feel so very far from you, always, even when your sweat hits my body when we fuck, even when you spit on my face when we fight. It&#39;s so far beyond a painful realization of the contemporary state of human ineffectuality, I rarely cry anymore and that makes me want to cry, but I can&#39;t, and that&#39;s just it.<br /><br />WHAT DO YOU ACTUALLY DO WITH MOST OF YOUR BREATHING MOMENTS?<br /><br />I do not write under the pretense or illusion of being separate from this plague of radical theorizing, and I must admit, I certainly take filthy pleasure in the overwrought irony inherent in the very naughtiness of writing this to you now. But I feel I have some advice, or a plea rather. I beg for an experiment that could maybe one day be institutionalized to forcibly bring about our own liberation from the blase infections that have invaded our bodies: chew on your words and try to taste them before you decide that it&#39;s something you&#39;d really want to eat, digest, and and shit back into the world, lest we risk poisoning ourselves to boring, silent deaths. <br /><br />Please take this criticism light-heartedly knowing that I might very well be speaking in the direction of my own ego insofar as I have seen him, her, and they mirrored in yours. And cheer up comrade, there&#39;s probably nothing you can do to change anything.<br /><br />Most Sincerely,<br />a hopeless ex-dreamer, ready to die<br /><br />Oh yeah, and that HOLY FUCK, could we make it happen?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com