“What is life? It is the flash of the firefly in the night. It is the breath of the buffalo in winter. It is the shadow that runs on the grass and is lost on the last day. ”
– Crowfoot, before dying, April 1890
Wild Nature calls, that special call is heard only by a few. It calls to defend a place, to resist artificiality, modernity, progress, and the anthropocentric. The call is desperate and agonizing. It creaks slowly.
For the hyper-civilized, it is inaudible and insignificant. But for us, the eco-extremists in particular, it is of vital importance that we heed that call.
I am an eco-extremist, and I recognize the value that this has today in this modern era, in this idiotic society drunk on technology. You’re branded a lunatic here when you put the Natural above the artificial, when you choose to start conversations in person rather than send a message on Facebook, when you choose to take natural medicines rather than drug your body with pharmaceuticals, when you praise the life of hunter-gatherer nomads over the detestable practices of transhumanists, etc.
In industrial society, if you oppose humanist and progressivist morals, you are labeled a reactionary or a bigot. The masses point you out with their disgusting fingers shouting in unison: Terrorist!
I am an eco-extremist, and I recognize the value that this has in the here and now. And I am prepared to be pigeonholed in the worst way possible, all to admit that I am an individualist at war with the technological system and its civilization.
I am an eco-extremist and I am at war. I have made shrapnel bombs that I have sent to researchers who work to alter Wild Nature. The positive and negative wires have found each other, the electricity from the battery heated the bulb inside the galvanized nipple filled with dynamite, it made a spark, it exploded, I wounded them, the shrapnel penetrated their bodies, and the smoke from the exploded dynamite reached their lungs, burning them at the same time. Their spilled blood has served to remind them that they are not gods, even though they like to pretend that they are. I don’t regret that I wounded and scared them or any of the consequences. What happened was just one response from Wild Nature speaking through me.
I have been in hiding in various cities preparing attacks, conspiring with accomplices, and broadening my range of experience with criminal endeavors.
I’ve lit cars on fire indiscriminately, luxury and cheap ones, big ones and small ones, since all of those disgusting machines create the layer of smog that forms over my head. I’ve watched them burn in thick forests. I am familiar with the reactions of their owners, but I don’t care. Nature has given me the ability to get away with it.
I’ve fired guns at big infrastructure projects and against those who work there, covered in the darkness of night with my band of fierce warriors. The force of the weapon in my hand resonated like thunder, the casings leaping from me like frogs; my feet firmly planted in the Earth like a tree trunk as I see my enemies cower and hide, as if fire were falling from the sky, as if they were in the eye of a fierce hurricane. We came out victorious again, Nature protected us.
I have bombed government institutions, public and private universities, companies, etc. An activated homemade bomb weighs in my backpack, blasting powder encased in its receptacle and firmly sealed, butane gas to create the blast, gasoline to make sure things catch fire, napalm to make it last longer, etc.
Night and day, I stalk my target. With great calm I place it discretely, and I withdraw. I hear my light steps on the disgusting and suffocating concrete, listening to my breath and my heart beating like a drum in a war dance. Minutes afterward, I hear the explosion. It worked, the damage is done. If a passerby was hurt, it doesn’t matter to me. My target was hit. If some curious bystander was taken out as well I don’t care. What’s done is done.
I reject the scholarship imposed by educational institutions that are complicit with the system. I prefer to study things that interest me and not the things they want to teach me. Many of those things that they aim to teach are useless for the life that I am living now anyway. The classroom is just another cage in the Great Cage known as Civilization. And that’s why I am unwilling to enter that jail on my own volition. The learning that I seek isn’t present in universities. It’s found in the mountains, forests, deserts, and jungle, next to the coyote, the deer, under the sun and the moon, with the roots and the rain, on the paths not taken, on the riverbanks and the lakes, with my associates or alone, accompanied by the spirits of my ancestors.
I reject all paid work that reduces you to a modern slave in the cities and the countryside. Even if acquiring money is necessary for life in the cities that smell of trash and perfume, I try to acquire it by other means, though always illegally.
My nine millimeter pistol comes with me when I need to get some money to acquire the means to carry out my projects. I’ve held up businesses, banks, etc. I am not an honest hard-working man, quite the opposite. I am a criminal and a terrorist, a hustler and an opportunist. I am not ashamed to say it because that’s what I am. I am the opposite of what this system is, fully conscious of what I do, aware that what I carry out it “evil” in the eyes of society. When I do it, though, I enjoy it, it give gives me pleasure, and I don’t have any pangs of conscience because I know what I’m doing. I know the consequences and even so I lie waiting in the shadows, without worries or regrets.
I envision myself, I stalk my target very well, I study the layout and escape routes. I prepare for the worst. Before embarking, I offer a serene but nervous prayer to the Ineffable, asking it to keep my steps and, that in spite of all odds, that I come out victorious. I speak to Nature, saying to her that she knows full well why I do what I do, that my intentions are real and sincere, that those who dared to hurt her now must pay. I end with a verse robbed from a fragment of apocalyptic scripture, uttered with pagan intention:
“And the nations were angry ; and thy wrath is come , and the time to destroy them which destroy the earth.”
I take my pistol, I fill it with ammo, I put the safety on, and I leave toward my prey: a small banking establishment that I’ve scoped out. My accomplices know full well that I am ready to shoot any person who gets in the way and tries to thwart the robbery (police, a civilian trying to play the hero, etc.) I am well aware that they would do the same in trying to stop me.
They take up their planned positions. I go towards the bank with my gun in my pocket, my finger on the trigger and my thumb on the safety, ready for anything. I get into line at the bank acting like I am just any other client. My accomplice watches my back from a few yards back.
While the sheep make their ways to the tellers in an orderly fashion, I observe the Most Wanted poster of bank robbers which says, “If you see them, turn them in.” A mocking grin appears on my face. Time passes slowly and anxiety fills my whole body without being evident to anyone else. No one is suspicious. Finally I’m first in line and my turn comes up. The teller says amicably, “Next.” I take some steps and I’m in front of her. I smile at her cynically and I tell her, “I’d like to make a withdrawl.” I put my elbows on the counter, and in one of my hands is my gun pointed at her chest. With the other hand I motion to her to hand the money over. The teller is in shock and I slowly take turn the safety off the gun and without any more drama she hands over some stacks of bills. The operation is quiet and without any mishaps. I firmly look into the eyes of the teller, warning her not to do anything that she will come to regret.
Outside traffic is flowing normally. People walk in front of the bank or are entering or departing. A woman is at a bus stop with her children she just picked up from school. A man on the sidewalk is arguing on his cellphone. An old woman attends her mobile candy stand on the corner. Everything is business as usual. No one knows that a bank robbery is taking place.
My gang fully alert watches, their pistols and machine guns ready for a shoot-out with the police should they arrive. They see me come out of the bank and behind me is my accomplice watching my back discretely. We leave, and while we sneak through one of our escape routes, we see a truck full of police driving full speed toward the bank. They see us as they speed by but they drive on. We escape into the urban landscape.
This time around the robbery went off without a hitch, without casualties or shots fired. But on other occasions the job hasn’t been so clean. One time I was in a situation where the teller was left in a state of shock when I pointed the gun at him, and he refused to give me the money. At that point I fired without hesitation, and then the buzzing in my ears, the casing hitting the floor and bouncing, the plexiglass unable to contain the shot which lodged the bullet into the man’s chest. My thought at that point was, “Fucking teller, if you are prepared to protect the money of those faggot bankers with your life, then you should have no problem dying for them!” I knew at that this attempt was botched, but it could have been worse. Quickly I headed toward the exit, but in a look askance I saw that the manager was on the phone trying to call the police, at which point I aimed and fired again, wounding that bastard as well. I fled the bank almost running, without money, having left two severely wounded men in my wake. That day the blood of the hyper-civilized was an offering to Wild Nature. The piercing alarm had sounded after the first shot. I ran to blend into the crowds. In the distance I heard sirens. They were looking for me. My mouth was dry, my arm was hot, my hand smelled like gunpowder. My gait was nervous, but I grinned since I was able to shoot those two idiots who risked their lives to defend their shitty jobs. I claim proudly the role of extremist individualist, without regrets always learning from my mistakes. There will be another chance to commit robbery soon, there’s no hurry.
All of the above isn’t boasting. These things really happened and to tell the truth, they’re only one important aspect of the attitude of an eco-extremist such as myself. You have to have the mentality of a warrior when you make a bomb, select your target, and detonate it; when you wound people, when you rob a place or when you kill someone. The other part of eco-extremism has to do with one’s personal or collective development in Nature, what you learn from her, the knowledge that you gain working in natural settings. All of these special situations nurture one’s paganism and a bond to the Natural and Ineffable.
I am an eco-extremist, and I realize the value that this has in the here and now. I love Wild Nature, I respect and cherish it. From her I have learned many things.
I remember the great hills that I loved to visit when I was a child. There were many types of trees, there were moles, rabbits, many insects, many types of birds, etc. My father took me to play there because it was the only natural place left in the town consumed by urban sprawl. We ran freely to reach the river which we observed for hours. The wind on our face, the smiles, the grass pricking our feet… The calm washed over our being, and we really savored it.
Years pass and the large construction corporations came and paved over that place to make a many-laned highway. Thus they flattened the Earth, they covered over the holes of the moles and rabbits who suffocated to death. Some tried to flee but died in the process. The bird’ nests were knocked down when the trees they were in were pulled out of the Earth by their roots. The beautiful river was turned into a large canal full of sewage in which flowed garbage and toxic waste. They buried the Earth under concrete, they made my beautiful and beloved place into a dump. One more project to protect the interests of accursed civilization, so that we can all be better connected. All for fucking human progress!
Coming to that place which I had loved so much from my youth, seeing it turned into a sad highway, broke my heart, and I wept from the pain of seeing such devastation. My hands trembled, I sweated, but then I got angry and decided to get revenge for what they had destroyed. Over the coming weeks, many of the machines were damaged by the fires that I lit. I tried to get them to stop harming that place, but I couldn’t stop anything. I was young, and I still maintained the hope that one day “the revolution” would triumph against this dirty system. But soon I realized that I was being an idealist. I then renounced the dream of revolution, and I decided to not have any hope, nor keep any faith in a future “collapse”. I would confront the decadent and pessimistic present in which I presently live, accepting that you can’t stop progress, at least not here.
This is one of the many reasons why I hate civilization, its progress and the technological system. It’s the reason why I want to see everything burn. It is one of the reasons why I am on the side of Nature; not simply because civilization does that to the environment but also because it seeks to modify it according to its will; not only because it exterminates species, but also domesticates them; not only because it wants complete control, but also because it wants to bury our instincts like the moles’ burrows. It wants me to forget that I come from Nature. It wants me to be another man drunk on new technological innovations just like everyone else. I will not let that happen.
An eco-extremist needs to maintain the warrior part of himself, but also he needs to keep equally the symbiotic bond with Nature, respecting and venerating it.
I have walked barefoot on unknown roads following the river to the place where it’s born, learning that many times the road is difficult but when you get you get to the end the payoff is enormous. I have heard the howl of coyotes that surrounded me in the mountains at night. At the same time I looked up from next to my fire and saw the starry sky, eagerly seeking this vision from Nature. I have lost myself in the mountains, and through serendipity found great boulders that looked like human faces. I had an intimate spiritual encounter with them. I have slept in caves that seemed like they would come down on me, with a white owl watching over my sleep and the aroma of wild plants bestowing great calm on me. I have eaten salvia and watercress shoots, mesquite and wild tomatoes. I have cured a wound with Sangre de Grado and aloe. I’ve made shelters from palms and pine branches. I have started a friction fire using a base of sotol and a gordolobo drill. I have eaten snake meat and tanned rodent hides. I have felt like I was being watched by something in the forests at night, but I had no fear. I have felt like I was part of something larger. I have tried to enter narrow caves where I could not even see my hand in from of my face. I was startled by the bats who looked like they were flying right at me. At the end of the cave, I found many vulture feathers, which I considered Nature’s gift to me for having dared to enter that cave. I have felt the rain coming down on my back on the hills, I have run and felt like I was flying with the birds. I have dipped my feet in springs, with fish swimming between my feet. I have seen in the distance a deer on a hill looking at me intently, but projecting safety and tranquility. I have looked at civilization from the mountains, preferring to go deeper into them rather than step once again on the concrete. I have felt relief from having finished building a shelter, and resting my tired feet in the evening calm. I have been surrounded by fireflies without doubting for a second that I too am an animal on this Earth. I have walked on the paths where my Teochichimeca ancestors trod. There I have found obsidian arrowheads, one that perhaps entered the body of an invader, wounding or possibly killing him. But without a doubt, it was shot by my ancestors, and by mere coincidence it has come down to me. This made me feel “chosen” to honor their memory and continue that warrior instinct. This is what I have done.
These and more are my personal experiences which have made me an eco-extremist. Every individualist who wants to claim that identity for himself will have his own experiences and reasons, but these are mine. This editorial is more personal than anything. Intelligent readers will understand it, but those who don’t will not. If YOU, the reader of Regresión Magazine, feel that call, no matter what you consider yourself, an eco extremist or something else, follow it…
“The hills ore more beautiful than stone buildings. To live in a city is to live an artificial existence. Many peoples don’t feel the Earth under their feet. They only see plants growing in pots, they never got out far enough to see, beyond the city lights, the enchantment of the starry sky. When people live so for from the creations of the Great Spirit, they forget so easily his laws.”
For the affinity to criminal activities that satisfy individualist instincts!
Let us listen to the call of the Wild and remember where we came from!
Fire, bullets, and bombs for the technological system and against civilization!
We too are Wild Nature, each one of us, let us defend ourselves from the Artificial!
iAxkan kema, tehuatl nehuatl! (Until your death or mine!)
Selknam, Savages of the South
I want to begin by saying that for Tierra Maldita it is a privilege to write this essay for the fifth issue of Regresion Magazine. This magazine has given us analysis, historical documents, information concerning wars of wild peoples against civilization, mythological places, pagan rites, and stinging editorials.
We take this opportunity here to present an essay on the live ways of the natives of Patagonia, at the tip of South America. We are referring to the Selk’nam.
They were nomadic hunter-gatherers who lived on the northern end of the Great Island of Tierra del Fuego. They were a savage tribe that was unfortunately precipitously slaughtered with the arrival of the European invaders. From Tierra Maldita (Accursed Earth), as we have said previously, we recall their lives and customs, not from passivity, nor looking to make them look like victims, but on the contrary to exalt in their wild savagery through which they waged war on their conquerors. They sought to defend their primitive lives and their impressive pagan ceremonies. We celebrate them since they had learned to live in one of the most wild and inhospitable places on Earth, living hundreds of years with their primitive weapons, hunting, feeding and clothing themselves, and making gods, all of this in connection with wild nature.
May the life of the Selk’nam, the fierce Chichimeca warriors of the north, and the hunter-gatherer Bushmen of Africa, be an example of savage fierceness. May they be an example to all who in the present day carry out violent war against civilization and progress through means of firearms, bombs, arson against important civilized targets, and in general, carrying out acts of terrorism that wound and kill. And by this, may they spread ideas against the techno-industrial system, heightening the conflict against civilization in the name of all wildness.
With the pagan sibling spirits Xalpen and Tanu!
From Karukinka to Chicomoztoc, let the war continue!
The Selk’nam lived on the Great Island of Tierra del Fuego, the southernmost point in South America in what is known as Patagonia. The Selk’nam were a nomadic people who lived the hunter-gatherer lifestyle for 10,000 years. Living all of that time in the midst of wild nature, they developed elaborate pagan rites and mythology over the course of hundreds of years.
That was until the white invader came to conquer the land, some in search of gold, others like the Christian priests in search of converts, and later the livestock industry. These groups of invaders pushed the Selk’nam quickly toward extinction, an event now known at the Selk’nam genocide. Over the course of twenty years half of the native Patagonians died. Indian hunters came and were contracted to kill all of the savages.
Savages and colonizers faced off with the former attacking with savage fury, nevertheless, they were no match for the military strategy and firearms of their civilized enemy. In spite of the inferiority of their arms, the savages waged a war to the death or capture. They responded to the bullets of civilization with bow and arrow, boleadora and lance.
Selk’nam life was shrouded in paganism and mythological rituals. The following is a summary of the these rituals and myths, how they lived, their rites and customs. For those unfamiliar with the existence of these people, here we recall the savage memory of that land the natives knew as Karukinka, and the confrontations with the white invaders.
Long live the Selk’nam arrows that wounded their civilized enemies!
Long live Karukinka and Haruwenh with their pagan rites!
We were running after a guanaco when suddenly we found ourselves confronted by eighty Indians. Their faces were painted red and they were completely naked, and they were spread out among the small bushes. Right as we saw them a shower of arrows fell on us landing in the ground around our horses. Luckily, no one was injured. We dismounted in a hurry and returned fire with our Winchesters… It was an odd battle. While we fired, the Indians hit the ground and the arrows stopped. But as soon as we ceased firing, we heard once more the whistle of the arrows around us.
-Julio Popper, Indian hunter
The Selk’nam were a now extinct indigenous group that lived on the Grand Island of Tierra del Fuego, at the southern tip of South America. Their nomadic way of life developed in a cold, isolated, and inhospitable territory. They were organized into small familial groups which lived principally from the hunting of guanaco. At times they joined together in larger numbers on certain occasions such as for the initiation of young boys, celebrated in the ceremony known as the Hain, or in their farewells to the dead. From 1880 onward began their tragic extinction that resulted from white colonization. Foreign disease and the actions of vigilantes or Indian hunters were the principal causes irrevocably marking their destiny.
The Selk’nam were a nomadic people whose subsistence economy was based on hunting on dry land, primarily birds, which complemented their collection of fruits, mushrooms, and wild roots, as well as some marine foods.
They were characterized by their arrowheads and spear points that were sharper and more effective than those of their predecessors.
The Selk’nam were related to the Aonikenk or Southern Tewelches, sharing a common origin. They had separated from the other group while coming to occupy Tierra del Fuego.
“Selk’nam” is the name by which the nomadic inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego identified themselves and their culture. This is the name that is primarily used today for them, since the formerly popular name, “Ona” was actually given to them by the Yaghan and was later popularized during the colonization of the southern territory, though it did not come from the Selk’nam themselves. This culture supported a vast spiritual world manifested in ceremonies known as the Hain: the sexual initiation ritual in which certain secrets were imparted for the maintenance of their social order, namely, the patriarchy.
The Selk’nam had named the territory that they had lived in for 10,000 years Karukinká. This was the same land that the Spaniards first called “Tierra de los Humos,” and finally “Tierra del Fuego,” owing to the fires that the indigenous people lit at night and which were seen by the conquistadores from the sea.
The Selk’nam explain this fact through legends that narrate how their ancestors were stranded on the new land when the water covered the passage separating them from their brethren on the continent.
Two religious organizations created reservations for the surviving indigenous peoples: one on the Isle of Dawson and the other in Ushuaia. The first was a Salesian mission which came to house 1,000 Selk’nam but was closed in 1912.
In only eight years, the population was reduced to 270 tribe members who survived under the protection of the Bridges, two Anglican brothers, as the anthropologist Martin Gusinde documented in 1920.
The climate of present-day Southern Patagonia was not always so cold and dry.
From 3000 BCE, the climate began to get colder and less humid, until it reached its present climatic conditions. Guanacos, red foxes, cururos, and a large number of bird species are the primordial fauna of the region.
Fuegian hunters took advantage of the roots, multiple mushroom species and wild fruits which the Fuegian forests and steppes produced.
A beached whale on the coast, occasions of trade, the wrestling tournaments that marked the end of hostilities between families, peace ceremonies, or funeral rites of a prominent person, were occasions on which the entire community met together.
The beaching of a whale brought everyone together. The initial strong smell and then the large fires of the discoverers of the animal summoned the rest of the Selk’nam. These occasions, on which there was abundant food for all, were ideal for the realization of the adolescent ceremony of initiation: the Hain
The Selk’nam were land-bound hunter-gatherers on the Big Island of Tierra del Fuego. They were tall and their diet consisted of birds, guanacos, red foxes, and cururos, which was complemented by the gathering of sea foods such as shellfish and a beached whale. This last occurrence brought together all of the Selk’nam, and on occasion, they shared with the Yaghans.
The modern colonization of the island began in 1881. The white man came seeking gold in the south. Afterward, much investment in sheep was put into Patagonia. This was the driving force for the extermination of the Selk’nam, a culture that had no conception of private property, and thus considered hunting sheep to be acceptable.
Because of this, both the gold investors and the farm owners paid Indian hunters, that is, hunters of human beings, to kill the land’s indigenous peoples. A pair of testicles was the evidence they needed to collect the bounty.
The family was the basic nucleus of society. Monogamous marriage was common, even though men could have two wives.
Neither hierarchies nor leaders were known among the Selk’nam, owing to their organization in families.
Only shamans, known as Kon, renowned for certain powers, were respected and feared.
They cured the sick and were in charge of religious ceremonies.
In social relations, based on parentage, patriarchy was practiced and was the rule of society based in the home of the husband (patrilocal). In each family they could be four or five generations living together. The Selk’nam’s territory was usually the property of an extended family which was subdivided in districts of 40 relatives where boundaries were well-established, according to the anthropologist Martin Gusinde. In order to cross into another territory, the Selk’nam needed to have the permission of their neighbors.
The Selk’nam paid much attention to their personal appearance. Any occasion was an excuse to paint their body and face. The adornments most used by women and girls were conch shell and bird bone necklaces.
In daily life the men did not wear any adornments and only on rare occasions did they wear necklace headdresses, which was a privilege indicating that they were fulfilling a special role, usually during a ceremony.
The most common garment was a large cape made out of guanaco skin which went from the neck down to the knees that served as protection from the elements. In some instances this cape was made from fox or cururo skin, the latter being used among more northern groups. The skins were scraped, stretched, and then left to dry while stretched out on stakes. Then they would proceed to sew them together using the nerves of the same animal as string.
The man’s cape was not tied to any part of the body, and thus the two large ends were clasped to the chest by the left hand. This allowed the hunters to take the cape off easily.
The woman’s cape, in contrast, was sewn together with two nerves of a guanco and placed around the shoulders. The guanaco skin served to protect small children from the cold, as she put them below it on her back.
Women’s clothing also included:
An apron also made out of guanaco skin, which was worn under the breasts and covered from the stomach to the knees. They never removed this garment in public. The cape, on the other hand, was taken off rather easily.
Moccasins made from the skin of the guanaco’s extremities, with hair sewn on on the outside.
Kocschel: a triangular adornment used as a headdress, to which was attributed magic powers in the hunt. It was made from the skin of the head of a guanaco and covered the forehead of the hunters. The nerves of the animal were used to fasten it to the head.
The Po’o was used only on special occasions by the men. It was a headdress made out of feathers attached to a strip which was worn on the crown of the head.
Among the items in the home the most prominent were the baskets produced by the women from reeds in a spiral weaving technique.
They made bags out of fox or sea lion skin in order to carry water and other smaller ones to carry personal items during their travels. Hunters also carried in them flint and dried mushrooms for making fire, as well as feathers for arrows, guanaco tendons, and other tools.
The Taha’l was a carrier designed to transport and carry small children. It was made of oak wood and covered in guanaco skin.
It had the shape of a ladder and was similar to the carrier used by the Aonikenk. On the ladder, there were two sticks about a meter long and 12 to 15 smaller sticks perpendicular to them spaced out evenly. It was covered with delicate and well-tanned young guanaco skin, which served to form a fluffy mattress that protected the suckling child.
The Selk’nam were a nomadic tribe that maintained subsistence economy based on hunting on land, principally birds, that complimented the collection of fruits, mushrooms, and wild roots, as well as some products from the sea.
The Selk’nam were a nomadic people whose subsistence economy was based on hunting on dry land, primarily birds, which complemented their collection of fruits, mushrooms, and wild roots, as well as some marine foods.
They were characterized by their arrowheads and spear points that were sharper and more effective than those of their predecessors.
The Selk’nam were related to the Aonikenk or Southern Tewelches, shared a common origin. They had separated from the other group while coming to occupy Tierra del Fuego.
“Selk’nam” is the name by which the nomadic inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego identified themselves and their culture. This is the name that is primarily used today for them, since the formerly popular name, “Ona” was actually given to them by the Yaghan and was later popularized during the colonization of the southern territory, though it did not come from the Selk’nam themselves. This culture supported a vast spiritual war manifested in ceremonies known as the Hain: the sexual initiation ritual in which certain secrets were imparted for the maintenance of their social order, namely, the patriarchy.
Nihilistic Funeral: The Annihilation of Life
“The only God I believe in is a loaded pistol with a hair trigger.”
Desire, the exaltation and orgy of death and murder, the target to hit, annihilating the border that restricts the identifying model of the flow of life.
To strike and annihilate – to become oneself one’s own god, killing the continuous circle of life that hopes to live and prosper. To try the odor of blood that gushes out of a wound.
The experience that elevates an individual, action that resides in fear of the periphery of consciousness, where remains that static plan becoming an obstacle and imprisoning the touch of egoistic joy.
One’s own joy, in order to be possessed by the shaking of limbs, the unknown existential bottom, the body and mind, diluting the fragment of radical immoral destruction.
Transcending the imperfect and total completion, the execution of the desire to kill, to annihilate the the death of thought, collapsing the libido and the personal hell, tasting and enjoying a life that turns, dying for the exaltation of a God without God.
I possess, I move myself, I feel, I transmit, and I inject the image that transforms itself in front of me, showing the final departure and verifying by the lived life.
Domination and control of my emotions in a dark abyss, lucid I enter down the road of “not listening.”
I push forward, with a broken rhythm, the explanation of action, the spastic tremor, deriving the injected bloodline of the next one close to death. The one who wishes and desires it, overcoming the obstacle of a drawn and desperate face.
To feel the sense of death, having it before you, wanting it, without hope, the choice of an imprisoned body.
Pleasure, passion that divides and separates at an instant. The pure blow to life that flows at the margin of “living”. I am the criminal nihilist who denies obsolete humanity, transcending the moral-mortal human, existence in an identifying and categorical representation in equal evaluations.
I am the bad passion that inhabits the nihilistic abyss, for the destruction that annihilates the multiple protean forms of equality.
My jaws spew forth venomous saliva from the abyss, they look for a warm body. In the cold that breaks the exhaling of breath.
I breath and breath to break the breath, and the blowing of hope, thinking of the illusion of the future, the weak and unchangeable smile, in a stable perpetuation of the logical path that was taken.
The ghost of Kirilov (1), the demon who dwells in me.
I love in the world that dies, in the instant in which I live and breath the fragment of the dying thought, the posthumous exhalation of the penetrating breath, with my insides, the essence of my unicity.
Experimenting, acting like it changes the lived moment, is life, existence is between a logic that categorizes and places on it the seal of truth.
We experience nihilistically – we enter abysmally – savoring the fear of the search for death (and the dead in a succession of real objectives and the normal context of creating perspective.
The miserable fable of the real world exists in the context of life in the society of equals poisoned by my egocentric ambition, annihilating the margin of respect for life.
The fragment that pretends and wishes to break the rule of equalizing compromise with humanist gratitude, of life in the context of the living.
We go on to realize – advancing, in order not to back in the absolute – the absolute that accumulates and imprints the mark of generalization of the dynamic of action, the product of the act, that established the rule to strike at the target, my only objective.
The choice, the dynamic, the intended target, searching through the daily wear, imprinting and tracing, marking the exterior sign of the dualistic representation of society. The margin of the limit that is found and possible, make concrete as an event and an axiom. An report categorizing, the typology of the date of publication deducing the adhesion of the method that the moment follows as well as the planned act.
The logical representation of the sign that turns off the circuit of events, living the way at the margin and hanging on, deducing the conclusion of the reordered affect, the communicative success of the arrangement of the elaboration of the effect-conclusion.
The effect given to the determined disposition, establishing the conclusion that requires and reclaims, making effective the arrangement of the definition of the limit. The one I circumscribe, the specific conclusion of a blocking of hegemonic equality.
Hegemonic equality of the harsh struggle of the egoistic act of the unique objective. It stimulates the side, the opposite of trying to merge with the consequent opposition.
The limit that circumscribes and encloses in itself the border of consciousness [*]
The radical struggle of the unique that looks for its target. It completes the presumption of the absolute planting of hegemonic equality. Predisposing itself in the so-called “society” (so much that – in effect- it is criticized by them). Thus they try to obligate and submit definitively the unique love of an egoistic power.
The fable that invokes predisposing the logic of the event, it converts itself into the effective rule in the concrete and tangible named consciousness; the presumption that pretends to predict the effect from a given act, in a feedback clarifying the truth of the good with the falsehood of evil.
Filth is washed in lucid consciousness of those humanist persons. It is the representation of the limit of the tangible, that breaks and annihilates not only the transfer of the truth, in respect to my only truth. I annihilate the base and the margin of the moral-mortal life.
To strike and the attack are synonyms where I break the “passage of equality” that tries to coagulate and contain the egocentric enjoyment of destruction.
Why the egocentric target?
The egocentric target as negation of order of the structure of the hypothesis and verified truth, the connection between the movement of action and the finalized ethical behavior, among a series of coordinated nouns of the direction (with two sides) in which my destruction should explode. My destruction does not run in any deciphering or deciphered system and is incomprehensible by the protean multitude of versatile behavior. By an imposed clause with the others, the human, that stepped on the other foot to try to be aware and disposed to the anemic avid smile of equality.
The destruction, the annihilation of my target, is the egoist rupture. The hegemonic proposition of the suppositions and the inventories in the profundities of consciousness. To seek enjoyment that becomes the purulent laws of legal ethics in persons – ethical behavior – political ethics (anarchist or not). The reverberant refraction, in the nexus of order and genus in order to an egalitarian division. The grade is typology, in the catalogue of the reparation of the action that is the product of destruction.
The production of destruction, makes that an act- the sleepiness that makes of an authentic movement within a demarcating rule – the only accessible logic to the esoteric multitud for the human race.
I elevate Egoist Unicity against the barrier of of compensation, it is sunk in the Abyss of Nihilism, to strike like terrorist against expired humanity. The reason why it says “no”. Consciousness that reclaims its submission and fault of one’s neighbor, to attack and annihilate in a selective manner.
Annihilating the margin and seduction of fear in the judgment of the moral morta human – and striking and nailing the Nihilist dagger in the weak belly of the conforming reformist.
The retrospective begins, killed and germinating resentment, striking without a system of identification and evaluation of behavior.
Should I value the target – through the valuing of the possible? [**]
I experience the annulment of the advance of the Nihilist Destruction against the world declared to death.
I don’t want “only” the death of the world, as a social system, but also want the death of my target, annihilating logical alteration – a systemization – owing to the apparition of fear in the mouth of consciousness.
The target that I select as a preeminent action of my Joy, longing for the instant when my phallus is raised in the predominance of the next target.
I enjoy the death of my target, selecting it in an Egoistic moment, in which thought is sunk in the light of darkness, the “mortal” life with the dead death.
I am the Nihilist Terrorist and Criminal, who wants the Destruction of the impulsive – derivative system, to unclot the blood, in an infected and purulent wound . The disintegration of the seductive reprobation of ethics, in an optic of organic representation and of behavior, in a straight line that established the automatic automaton.
Annihilating, annihilating, eliminating my egoistic target, in a decomposition of the stream of good conscience, with the end of respect for life and the living, in the precise method of a variable organ of the absolute and the concept.
I negate and break the “neighbor” who comes and turns into my target, in the experiment I cross inverted parabola that indicates the route of the way of hope.
Hope, the horrible concept in the lived moment, in the apparition of bile in the mouth of conscience. [***]
I want the destruction of the utopian illusion of the future, in the ascendent destiny, like the elimination of a judge in the power of the individual.
I explore and advance, I am aspiring, I am in favor of the strategy of assertion, in the passage that annihilates the step taken, that has turned into putrefaction. I emerge and submerge, I impose the libido, and my phallus begins to ejaculate, which I enjoy the image of the death of my egocentric target.
I am the owner of my gun, the elevated narcissist in the breath of death, in the explosion that locates and takes out the bolt of existence, for the “Unique” instant, like the masturbation of my phallus, that has joy in exploding sperm for the end of life!
Stripping, with my Nihilistic-Terrorist gun, the cornerstone of equality, the foundation of truth, the principle of respect of the human essence.
The sensible human-essence, fingerprint of truth, bolt of reality in the vital arc of the end and death.
Nothing in nothingness, it is the design and inspiration that understands and includes the consequent consequence in order, that orders and disposes of the literal movement, the existential clue.
The reality in the present of no-variability, the immovable continuity – repetitive in a circle that given persistence and form, defines the use of the result, recomposes a series of plugs and articulations, where life can continue in death, a life that is already dead, that blocks its own slope, disposing regularly of the life of the utopian illusion.
I penetrate the groove between me and the death of my Egoist target and I savor the moment when the present is stepped underfoot and the destruction of the past is made into simply the past, to express within my Unicity the existence of the breath of a life, that exists and disappears, loses consistency and contracts, expanding the blood, leaving consciousness in pieces, transforming Arbitrary Power, the veins that become the spectre without vital flow.
I raise my Egoist Gun, a song of death, that bursts nothingness into flames toward nothingness, radical and extreme, exalting Terror, without asking of possible infections in the absolute in a dying world. I arm my Power penetrated by the negation of my target, through the exhalation of his breath, steps backward in the illness called, “humanity.”
Spasmodic investigation, eyes turned back into the margin of life, stench of the egalitarian society, the vision projected outward, in the implicit alteration of the same project and the formation of the clot of representations that determine the ordinary occurrence of common emotions.
The will of Death, the Unique that blocks the ethical juridical ground of the rotten community of humans, choosing Free Will, the attack against the delicate “heart” of the human subject, losses in a tenuous life like a fragile branch of a fallen tree.
I want to break one of those branches, reducing it to nothing, to identify the worth of the true world, killing the common emotion that the mortal moral consciousness erects.
For the Nihilistic Annihilating Funeral of a Life.
[*] The consciousness – postulate of the ethical comportmental truth – the dwelling of the submissive – not as the Egoistic Individual – but rather as a subject “subject” who redeems his passions, that flow step by step in a metaphoric periphery, far from the Egoist and Destructive joy of “certainties”.
[**] The “Possible”, geometric and schematic action, reduces Egocentric Power to the flow that reflux determines, the sequential movement of hegemonic egalitarian egoism, evading the annihilation of the true values imposing – the doctrine of respect of the parts, acting in order to secure Nihilistic joy and the schematic action, in a series of rules that make possible an action within the limits that cannot and should not be transcended.
[***] The common metaphor of the “mouth of conscience” is the link between the act of the individual to impose dualistic morals that are part of the conscience. This expresses by the mouth, imposing deduction, resolution, within the limit that cannot be transcended, since the truth is not an ethical way of acting, within the agent of representation of the good in respect to Terroristic evil.
- [NB: a character from Fydor Dostoyevsky’s novel, The Demons.]
“The truth of things is that we have decided to begin to choose our own way of life without work. We want to take back our life and time. It’s been awhile since we broke with the bonds of labor in order to claim responsibility over ourselves as individuals tending to toward freedom as our end… But for this we require constancy, effort, determination, and our allies close to us. For even if we are people who have seen and experienced the power of the individual, we know that with the flock we are stronger. We’ll be waiting for you here with renewed eagerness so that we can destroy this fucking system.
Robbing night and day has went from being a project essential to our ability to develop and defend our individual liberty, to being a basic necessity in order to live apart from the conditioning of the social system in the here and now.
To risk everything that you have with you brings with it a storm of adrenaline and joy, happiness and fear, anxiousness, peace, and uncertainty. You say goodbye briefly to your life as it has been up until now. You say goodbye to your freedom since you are at the point of risking everything. But at the same time your mind embraces the dreams that because of the lack of material resources you have kept hidden in the deepest part of your heart – your imagination.
It is a pressure so great that it keeps you awake at night. Your anxiousness makes you want to speed up time to go out into the street and get it over with so you know how it will all go down. And then stop thinking about it.
You plan, you discuss, you come to an agreement, and everyone asks, “How do you feel? Are you sure that you want to do this?” Everyone responds, “Good, of course I’m certain!”
And then time passes more slowly than ever.
Finally the time comes, you prepare and arm yourselves. You go over the final details. These two see each other, they embrace, and say “I love you,” they give one last goodbye kiss, because maybe they’ll die there. Free love, love of personal freedom and wild nature. Love among those who defend wild nature.
Thus they break into pairs, and they depart to determine their destiny by themselves. This is not the first or the last time that they will do this. But they know full well that each one may be the last. The nocturnal hunters go out prepared in search of their prey, in search of victory or their own defeat. They need to risk all in order to survive. This places them in the natural condition of the evolution of their species.
Now no one risks anything. No one risks their personal freedom or their own life to try to obtain what they truly want. All has become monotonous security that kills and weakens the soul. Their life is not really life because they risk nothing to survive. And in reality if they have risked nothing, they have never really valued their lives.
Nevertheless, like their ancestors, those authentic wild human animals, while others sleep, they go out to hunt in order to survive. They confront the most ferocious animals, they risk everything, and it is precisely this risk that gives every moment of their their lives value and purpose. These feral people return to the night, they return to their most primitive survival instincts to acquire the material means needed to be able to return to and defend wild nature from which they come. Individual liberty returns to their life, and with them the risks, dangers, and problems that come with it. After they risk their life, they are reborn.
Crimínelle et sauvage
Lessons from arsonists
“We are the burning rage of a dying planet.”
Earth Liberation Front or ELF gained the reputation from the Department of State and other investigative agencies of being the greatest domestic terrorism threat in the United States.
Even though their first acts date from 1996, it was only in the next year that their acts began to take a more destructive turn and came to the attention of public opinion.
Here is a brief timeline of their major actions:
July 21st, 1997: ELF carried out a major arson attack on the Cavel West Company in Redmond, Oregon, a company that sold horse meat. The company suffered a loss of one million dollars and never recovered.
June 2nd, 1998: ELF coordinates an arson carried out against a U.S. Department of Agriculture Animal Damage Control building and a building of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, resulting in 1.9 million dollars in damage.
October 19th, 1998: Five buildings and much property on a major ski slope in the mountains of Vail, Colorado were reduced to ashes by members of the ELF. Five days before, a court granted permission to the ski company to expand its operations into lynx habitat. Damages totalled 12 million dollars.
December 31st, 1999: A major fire destroys Room 324 in the Department of Agriculture at Michigan State University in East Lansing. The building was devoted to testing for the expansion of genetically modified seeds. The damages were estimated to be one million dollars. These projects were funded by Monsanto and USAID. ELF wrote: “Cremate Monsanto, Long Live ELF!”
July 20th, 2000: Hundreds of genetically modified trees were destroyed by members of the ELF outside the research laboratory of the U.S. Forest Service in Rhinelander, Wisconsin. Various cars were painted with slogans opposed to bioengineering. The damages were estimated at one million dollars.
-November and December 2000: ELF carried out major arson attacks against condominiums and luxury construction projects in New York and Colorado, declaring by this “an unbounded war against urban sprawl.” The damages were valued at many thousands of dollars.
-May 21st, 2001: The Center of Urban Horticulture at the University of Washington was burned to the ground by the ELF. The damages were estimated at 7 million dollars.
August 1st, 2003: A major arson attack was carried out against a condominium project of 206 units under construction in San Diego, California. The damages were estimated at 50 million dollars. ELF took responsibility for the attack, writing graffiti at the site of the accident saying, “You build it, we burn it.” This was the most destructive attack by the ELF in the United States, after which it began to be considered a growing threat to national security.
August 22nd, 2003: ELF carried out sabotage and arson at a Hummer dealership with damage estimated at 2.3 million dollars.
Arson, threats, and sabotage carried out by the ELF continued until 2006, after which they ceased for the most part. Even until 2009, there was activity, as that year ELF robbed an excavator and knocked down the towers of the KRKO radio station in Everett, Washington, thus destroying them. Members of the ELF are currently the subject of a worldwide manhunt by the FBI.
It should be asked: Why did the major arson campaigns of the ELF cease? The answer: because of an informant. In November 2015, the press published a story on this theme in which the FBI admitted that they had one of the most wanted eco-terrorists in their sights, but they lost trace of her.
We are speaking here of Josephine S. Overaker, a member of one of the the most active and destructive ELF cells of the late 1990’s to early 2000’s which caused millions of dollars in damages in its attacks on companies, government institutions, and universities under the ELF banner.
The FBI called this cell, “The Family.” In December 2005, they raided Infoshops in four different states, arresting nine people and trying 11 more. This was the result of the declarations of an informant named Jacob Ferguson. He was a drug addict with a tattoo of a pentagram on his forehead. He was at that time Josephine’s boyfriend and was involved in the ELF attacks through the relationship that he had with her. He volunteered to wear a hidden microphone in his clothes during meetings with those who were responsible for the arsons. This was the method by which the FBI executed its “Operation Backfire” against “The Family.”
According to the FBI, The Family was headed by Bill Rodgers, an eco-radical who was imprisoned in 2005 during a police operation and who committed suicide in his cell in Arizona on December 21st of that year. It should be pointed out that Bill was responsible for writing the ELF manual entitled, “Setting Fires With Electrical Timers – An Earth Liberation Front Guide”.
Many of the accused ended up cooperating with the government and turned informants in exchange for reduced sentences. The only ones who accepted full responsibility for their acts and did not turn informants were Nathan Block, Daniel McGowan, Jonathan Paul, and Joyanna Zacher.
Only four members of the ELF cell have managed to escape and avoid prison but in March 2009, Justin Solondz was arrested in China and extradited. He refused to cooperate with the government and was sentenced to seven years in prison.
Rebecca Rubin was captured on the border with Canada in November 2012. In January 2014 she was sentenced to five years in prison.
Joseph Mahmoud Dibee is another eco-radical wanted by the United States. It is said that he is outside the jurisdiction of U.S. authorities and may be hiding in Syria.
According to the FBI, Josephine S. Overaker fled to Spain with the help of Basque separatists and was being hidden by anarchists in Madrid. But after having her in their sights in Europe one day she disappeared without a trace and has not been heard from since.
The lessons that the history of the ELF in the United States leave us are:
Don’t trust or get involved with a drug addict when performing illegal acts unless you want to end up dead or in prison.
You should not hope to be considered a “savior” of the Earth nor should that thought cross your mind. When you commit arson or inflict damages on those who harm nature, they will always classify you as a criminal, an extremist, an insane person, a terrorist, etc.
Many of those imprisoned for ELF actions in the United States have insisted that they are not terrorists since they didn’t wound or kill anyone. But to this I say: Yes, you’re right, there were no victims in your attacks. But then I would follow up by asking. “What then would the company owners, university researchers, and the government workers whose workplace you reduced to ash think? Would they be happy with what you did? Would they have maintained personal indifference? No, they felt fear and terror when they learned that these fires were not accidents, but rather were arson and what’s more, they were committed for a specific cause. Don’t take this the wrong way, I am not siding with those people who when something bad happens they go crying to the authorities knowing full well that what is happening to them is a consequence of their acts against nature.
I am not merely speaking in the juridical sense here, the one that imposes responsibility only on those who kill and maim people for a specific cause. I am speaking of terror as an emotion, as a reaction of those people who realize that, at that moment, they should pay for all that they have done. Maybe in the juridical aspect or when one is in prison, it is really unfortunate that you are accused of terrorism and you risk a 30 year prison sentence in Mexico. Maybe in that circumstance you should legally deny knowledge or support for terrorist actions (under the law), but if you can’t you can’t.
The ELF attacks took place in a tumultuous context in the U.S. Ted Kaczynski had just been arrested and ELF attacks took place nationwide. Added to this was the famous Battle of Seattle around the WTO Summit protests in 1999, as well as the attacks on the Twin Towers in 2001. All of these led to the stiffening of penalties against those who threatened “homeland security,” in this case the members of the ELF. The FBI and other agencies then felt compelled to combat and arrest them using all the means at their disposal.
Would it have been better to stop the attacks after September 11th? No, the attacks occurred when they needed to. You can’t afford the luxury of stopping when the crisis is right in front of you. What I would like to highlight here is that, if the serious police work went hand in hand with increased legal penalties, how could authorities effectively combat external threats, such as Al Qaeda, if they still had an enemy on the homefront (ELF / ALF)? This was the reason why the FBI infiltrated radical ecological circles and, through dumb luck encountered a willing snitch, the weak link in the chain, who only after light threatening began fingering people out. You cannot escape these moments and situations when you are at war. In other words, be careful that they don’t catch you unprepared and uninformed! Being aware of the situation at all times is crucial.
“Saving the World” as the Highest Form of Domestication
“Each Apache decides for himself whether or not he fights. We are a free people. We do not force men to fight as the Mexicans do. Forced military service produces slaves, not warriors.”
-“Grandfather”, quoted in, In the Days of Victorio: Recollections of a Warm Springs Apache, by Eve Ball and James Kaywaykla
The context of this quote is of interest as it is uttered in a meeting of Apache leaders concerning whether or not they should continue resistance against the invading white man or succumb to the powerful invading force. With hindsight, one could state that such a stance is foolish: had the Apache stood as a “united front” instead of the diverse bands that they had always been, they could have had a shot at victory, or so the reasoning goes. Instead, their inability to adapt their social organization to new conditions led directly to their downfall. In the face of a society of interchangeable citizens constituting a massive unified Leviathan, the Apache continued to be the untame, indomitable people of before. And they paid the ultimate price for it: defeat, humiliation, exile, and in many cases, premature death.
But perhaps, even then, the ends do not justify the means. Or rather, the “ends” are really the “means” projected and amplified into a monstrous and logical conclusion. Even if the Apache chiefs had conscripted every warrior and forced them to fight, even if some of the warriors hadn’t run off and become scouts hunting their own people for the white army, even if they could have held off the U.S. Army for a few more years, they would not have done so as Apaches, or as the people that they always were. Here it would be something akin to, “in order to save the city, we had to destroy it”. Or better, in order to prevent the city from being planted in the land of the Apache, they had to become the city in civilized reasoning. And they knew what that meant: slavery in one form or another. They accepted the consequences of their refusal, even if they had second thoughts about it.
We can apply the lessons here to our own situation. Many “green anarchist” or “green post-leftist” groups like Deep Green Resistance and the like very much have a “militaristic” or “militant” attitude toward “dismantling” or “destroying” civilization. There are even “pro-Unabomber” groups in existence that dream of a “revolution” against “techno-industrial society”. But what if, as Grandfather says above, in their efforts to fight slavery, they are just making more slaves? Is this not the essence of the leftist / revolutionary project: one last “slavery”, one last “martyrdom” that will end all slaveries and martyrdoms? Just one more great big push and we will establish the place where there is neither sorrow, nor sighing, nor anymore pain. Leviathan has dreamed this dream before, a myriad of times now, and people have thrown themselves against the wheels of Progress in order to make it a reality. They are still dead, and we are nowhere closer to freedom.
Still, there are others, such as John Zerzan, who think that to “give up” defending the world that civilization has wrought is akin to nihilism and despair. “Hope”, so the reasoning goes, would be finding a way to “let everyone off easy”, of avoiding all negative consequences of the end of a way of life that has been nothing but negative consequences for those who have opposed it (such as our Apaches here). The Requiem sung for a world built on the massive graveyard of other dead worlds must be a pastoral and peaceful one, so we are told, lest we succumb to revenge and hatred, lest we sin against the “Enlightenment” values that somehow escaped being fully domesticated, even when everything else is (mirabile visu!)
But what if this urge to save the world, this urge to “overthrow tyranny” no matter what the cost, this itch to “fight for a better world” is just another hamster wheel, another yoke to be put on us, to solve problems that we didn’t create, and to sacrifice ourselves for a better world which we will never see (funny how that works)? What if the genius of domesticated civilization has been to harness our hostility into making it better, commodifying our radicalism, and perpetuating civilized values in self-proclaimed enemies like a virus in an unsuspecting host? Why not just keep our principles, like the defeated Apache did, and let the chips fall where they may? What if we just realize that, as animals, we don’t know what the future will bring, the only resistance that we have is resistance in the now, and the cares of tomorrow will take care of themselves? Indeed, we simply have no power over tomorrow, just as we have no power to resurrect the past. If we did, we wouldn’t be animals, and the revolutionist / leftist / technocrat would be right.
Mexican ecoextremists are embodying these ideas as in the following passage, which I have translated from a recent work of theirs:
We fully realize that we are civilized human beings. We have found ourselves within this system and we use the means that it provides us to express a tendency opposed to it, with all of its contradictions, knowing full well that we have long been contaminated by civilization. But even as the domesticated animals that we are, we still remember our instincts. We have lived more time as a species in caves than in cities. We are not totally alienated, which is why we attack.
The distinguishing feature of RS in this conversation is that we say that there is no better tomorrow. There is no changing this world into a more just one. That can never exist within the bounds of the technological system that has encompassed the entire planet. All that we can expect is a decadent tomorrow, gray and turbulent. All that exists is the now, the present. That’s why we are not betting on the “revolution” so hoped for in leftist circles. Even if that seems exaggerated, that’s just how it is. Resistance against the technological system must be extremist in the here and now, not waiting for any changes in objective conditions. It should have no “long term goals”. It should be carried out right now by individuals who take on the role of warriors under their own direction, accepting their own inconsistencies and contradictions. It should be suicidal. We don’t aim to overthrow the system. We don’t want followers. What we want is individualist war waged by various factions against the system that domesticates and subjugates us.
Our cry to Wild Nature will always be the same until our own violent extermination:
“And the nations were angry, and thy wrath is come… and the time when thou shouldest destroy them which destroy the earth.” (Revelation 11:17)
Perhaps the only truly free response, the only one that escapes the cycle of domestication, is one that states firmly that this world is not worth saving, that its days are numbered, and the sooner the evil falls, the better. Sometimes damnation in Christian eschatology is not merely a punishment, but it is what is best for the soul saturated in iniquity. This world must fall, and nothing will likely replace it, nothing that we can foresee anyway. The only real praxis, then, is one of rejection and not of rebuilding: one of the heroic animal facing off against the civilized juggernaut of slavery and fear.
The Accursed Chronology
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Making Acetone Peroxide
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In the blood
The blood flowing, like a dance,
The veins expand, they embrace.
Again, another time.
Over and over again.
We bleed on the inside,
Feeling the beat, the sound
Very much on the inside,
Very strong, inside.
The others bleed
They bleed on the outside.
Cold, broken, in silence.
The eyes popping out of the head,
Death close, death far away,
Very far away,
And we are, some, our own.
Again and another time.
The blood flows, walks, pants.
And I turn my gaze to the moon,
The stars, the sun.
Tomorrow, who knows?
Far away and close, the abyss and the heights.
Of the game that laughs in the rocks,
In the sea, in the wind.
In the year, those who weren’t but they now are,
In the blood.
The Earth in the mouth and tired perspiration.
The blood tired and begging.
It is not silent and it arises,
The vomited blood and it asks me,
It asks us.
It doesn’t dream. It speaks.
And its voice, it speaks to me.
As if to the ear, close,
From far away it speaks not.
Nor does it listen.
The blood does not listen. It doesn’t know.
It can’t. It cares not.
The blood kills…
Or it dies.
-From Matar o Morir Publications
Saluting the Factions of the now-defunct Wild Reaction