Throw away all the prostheses and venture into the abyss of a world without limits.

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Life has deserted the soulless labyrinth of man’s daily doings. So seemingly ecumenical, so apparently volatile, she is not so cheap. Attempts to encounter her by the slaves of democracy remain just that. The apparent choices in the shop windows of capital come down to one: you can inhabit the swamp with the frogs, wallow in the global quagmire of participation and help spread the mud till even your dreams become grey. Or you can go. Take flight with the vagabonds of the spirit, let the glow of freedom ignite your passions, kindle your spirit, illuminate your mind. Throw away all the prostheses and venture into the abyss of a world without limits.
Here rebellion ceases to be an abstract choice, it becomes necessity.
Once roles and identities are discarded and the confines of patience and hope deserted, humiliation gives way to anger. No longer mere outsiders in this world of swindles and conjuring tricks, we become its sworn enemies. We burn all the maps. Freedom becomes our only compass and there is no turning back.
The struggle becomes reality, and this reality is not the same for all. It is conditioned by concrete structures, the various forms that the enemy gives itself to exploit and extract profit and submission. The apparent freedom enjoyed in the ‘comfort zones’ of capital contrast sharply with peripheral areas in old-fashioned material poverty. There is no blueprint for struggle, and rebels and freedom fighters make their own decisions, working things out as they go along.
The vast treasure of anarchist ideas and action past and present belongs to us all and is there for the taking – critically, of course.
The guard dogs of the State do not look on passively. By arresting, sending to trial, torturing and imprisoning, they try to break the revolutionary’s activity as a whole, not just their physical person. This it does this by keeping them away from this activity for as long as possible. To defend one’s freedom with every means, with the coherence and correctness that the revolutionary him/herself must decide is therefore not a choice but a necessity towards one’s project, the other comrades involved in it, and the exploited and oppressed who from this project might (or might not) find their own freedom.
And when the enemy succeeds in taking the rebels hostage, locking them up, framing them as terrorists and enemies of the people, there are comrades everywhere for whom solidarity is a fundamental, inextricable part of the totality of the struggle.
J. W.

 

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