The Garbage Disposal Unit
28th September 2010, 15:45
The things you stumble on . . .
Good-bye, comrades!
To begin, I can speak only to my own experience of the canadian left:
To coalitions and committees.
To family-friendly demonstrations and “direct action” media stunts.
To a $15/h job for an environmentalist NGO.
Every new disaster is a job opportunity. The opening up of a new market for professional Activism.
Every heroic defeat is a vindication, and another testimonial for the advertising campaigns.
The victories are little better.
Meetings with politicians.
Demands being negotiated.
In the end, if we’ve been “successful,” we’ve closed an avenue for autonomous activity, and handed control back over to the state, to management.
"I noticed you left your car lights on," when we should be slashing the tires.
The leftist activist declares, "The Emperor has no clothes!"
To begin with, this is obvious.
Further, it fails to address the problem of empire.
At best, the emperor covers up, and business continues as usual.
Likely, the activist goes to jail.
The left articulate conflict in the language of politics.
Politics is the management of capital.
This is the essence of the social consensus.
The problem is not that those in power don’t listen - it’s that they do.
This is the essence of control.
Information and feedback. Categorization and organization. Mobilization and management.
This is the law.
In this sense, is not simply the literal law, but the whole of the practice of the state and capitalism.
For those within the law, the cages and chains have disappeared.
On the surface, this appears to be a victory, but, now, the cameras are everywhere.
More and more, the law is more and more in our daily lives, and more and more we are against the law.
To be against the law, understood as such, is to be against the state.
The state is a machine which wages war.
The left understands war, to borrow from Mao, in turn borrowing from Clauswitz, as "The continuation of politics by other means." In other words, war is simply the management of capital, extended to its inevitable conclusion.
Defeat or victory is, again, irrelevant. Either retreating, suing for peace on the terms of the existing state, or advancing, by acts of increasing militancy (and implicitly, increasing militarization) until becoming the state.
The war machine remains, new managers or old.
This process is not distant or yet-to-exist.
The left are elected or jailed, appointed or killed, included or ignored within our immediate experience. The activity of the left is indististinguishable and inseparable from existing capitalism.
Neither right, nor left, and not, "Forward!" - what we need is a way out.
Not another politics, but a refusal to be managed.
Not a state, but a refusal of war.
Not a revolution in the future, but an immediate tension toward communism.
So, "Good-bye, comrades!"
I won't see you at the demo, and you won't catch me at the riot.
If you ever change your mind, give me a call, and I'll watch your kids while you set fire to warehouses.
Drop me a line if you're tired of biting the hand that's feeding you, and we can plant a garden.
Let me know if you're tired of trying to live well in prison, and we can plot an escape.
Once we're out, we can start making plans to come back and burn the motherfucker down.
Good-bye, comrades!
To begin, I can speak only to my own experience of the canadian left:
To coalitions and committees.
To family-friendly demonstrations and “direct action” media stunts.
To a $15/h job for an environmentalist NGO.
Every new disaster is a job opportunity. The opening up of a new market for professional Activism.
Every heroic defeat is a vindication, and another testimonial for the advertising campaigns.
The victories are little better.
Meetings with politicians.
Demands being negotiated.
In the end, if we’ve been “successful,” we’ve closed an avenue for autonomous activity, and handed control back over to the state, to management.
"I noticed you left your car lights on," when we should be slashing the tires.
The leftist activist declares, "The Emperor has no clothes!"
To begin with, this is obvious.
Further, it fails to address the problem of empire.
At best, the emperor covers up, and business continues as usual.
Likely, the activist goes to jail.
The left articulate conflict in the language of politics.
Politics is the management of capital.
This is the essence of the social consensus.
The problem is not that those in power don’t listen - it’s that they do.
This is the essence of control.
Information and feedback. Categorization and organization. Mobilization and management.
This is the law.
In this sense, is not simply the literal law, but the whole of the practice of the state and capitalism.
For those within the law, the cages and chains have disappeared.
On the surface, this appears to be a victory, but, now, the cameras are everywhere.
More and more, the law is more and more in our daily lives, and more and more we are against the law.
To be against the law, understood as such, is to be against the state.
The state is a machine which wages war.
The left understands war, to borrow from Mao, in turn borrowing from Clauswitz, as "The continuation of politics by other means." In other words, war is simply the management of capital, extended to its inevitable conclusion.
Defeat or victory is, again, irrelevant. Either retreating, suing for peace on the terms of the existing state, or advancing, by acts of increasing militancy (and implicitly, increasing militarization) until becoming the state.
The war machine remains, new managers or old.
This process is not distant or yet-to-exist.
The left are elected or jailed, appointed or killed, included or ignored within our immediate experience. The activity of the left is indististinguishable and inseparable from existing capitalism.
Neither right, nor left, and not, "Forward!" - what we need is a way out.
Not another politics, but a refusal to be managed.
Not a state, but a refusal of war.
Not a revolution in the future, but an immediate tension toward communism.
So, "Good-bye, comrades!"
I won't see you at the demo, and you won't catch me at the riot.
If you ever change your mind, give me a call, and I'll watch your kids while you set fire to warehouses.
Drop me a line if you're tired of biting the hand that's feeding you, and we can plant a garden.
Let me know if you're tired of trying to live well in prison, and we can plot an escape.
Once we're out, we can start making plans to come back and burn the motherfucker down.