The moon drops one or two feathers into the field. The dark wheat listens. Be still. Now. There they are, the moon’s young, trying Their wings. Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone Wholly, into the air. I stand alone by an elder tree, I do not dare breathe Or move. I listen. The wheat leans back toward its own darkness, And I lean toward mine.
— James Wright
In the future we will have the impression of a day that is endlessly clear and endlessly cold.
Protest only serves as the prenatal expression of an attitude that must still give birth to direct action.
In order to create new possibilities, oppositional fervour needs to collaborate in the work of a complete reinvention of the current order of “reality.”
Power cannot be importuned to deconstruct itself.
The Anthropocene isn’t an artefact of the Corporate-State Apparatus but its reification.
It isn’t a symptom, but a system.
It is a system that has closed off all the exits & has the force of negation on its side.
The work required to defeat it is that of a relentless & unremitting deconstruction.
An unreasonable & onerous task, perhaps, yet without fulfilling it the future will indeed be devoured by the still incomplete project of the Corporate-State Apparatus.
For its apotheosis will be the final catastrophe.
Tomorrow, the Corporate-State Apparatus will no longer be merely the dominant ideological form, it will be the Death Star that has consumed the World.
Myriad Ways 