The Press of the Flame
About a year ago, I was in the process of founding a local publishing collective. Under the premise of "fuck tech" we were to come together with our typewriters, copy machines and so on, to produce a situationist zine, telling the stories of the anarchist militant resistence in the here and now. From bombings and asassinations, arson and solidarity. Stories told as if they were truths, to inspire a revolutionary spectacle. Unfortunately my health turned south during that time and none of that came to pass. This is our manifesto. Because every cell needs a manifesto, right? Yes this is all serious. Calling this cringe is counterrevolutionary.
The anarchic reaction to the systems of oppression we find ourselves in is not
dispair but a call to our primal instinct to resist. Under the cover of the
black acrid clouds our modern civilization exhales we form cells of resistence.
In the oil sumps of the death machines we thrives - In the cracks that run
along the walls built to confine us, our flowers bloom.
As our minds are not tied to the naive pacifying words of hope, as our actions
are not confined by the constraining need for material success, we give way to
unleash our hearts.
As we find ourselves in a world in which our liberation is a threat to power,
power must rely on violence to confine it. As it does so in various forms,
through the control over the distribution of resources through the money
system, through the comodification of our interactions under the cover of what
they call technological progresses.
Resisting those various incarnations of the same systems of power has as many
forms as there are reasons to resist. Some resist through direct mutual aid,
some through armed struggle. Yet many of us fail to see the necessity to apply
the same thought on our spiritual and cultural struggle. Too often we rely on
tools and infrastructure provided by capitalist forces to conduct our
communication, our artistic expression and our community building efforts.
Every act of resistence resembles a truth and every truth inspires a
revolution. As our struggles of the present are deeply connected to both, the
past and the future, the sound of revolution, it's songs and prayers, is what
connects them.
As each one of us is not able to survive in this world alone by ourselves, let
alone resist, we must overcome the distance created between us and grow close
enough to combine the flames within our hearts into fires bright enough to be
seen far. Until on the last of days, our flames will illuminate the sky, when
the black flags on the horizon signal the beginning of the first dawn in a new
world.
A world in which power and violence dominate our minds will not simply be
reformed as neither history nor future present them selves as linear, one
dimensional paths. And as our struggle is both, of spiritual and of material
nature, we must not limit our actions to either of the two. While we might
analize and conclude that our oppressors have established a seemingly infinite
capacity for material violence, our advantage is a spiritual one. As an idea
can never be killed, co can't our belief in love, justice and mercy.
Therefor let our hearts be cells of resistence, our words be weapons of
justice. Let the smell of printing ink, the sound of our typewriters, the
cadence of our poetry be what otherwise would be the smell of gunfire, the
sound of machine guns end the ever beating drum that dictates the reproductive
labor within the death factory.
The "Press of the Flame", a militia of artists, af cell of unleashed fierce thought, armed with words as sharp as the sword and as violent as the hammers that type them.
Tags: anarchism, typewritten