<PoeticTerrorism>   Body Attributes (  

Welcome to Poetic Terrorism--a new method of communication. A new vocabulary for resistance. We're opening a new front in the war against soundbytes and corporate catchphrases, because it's impossible to think when your words are controlled by discourse that is manufactured by imperialist corporations and sold to us wholesale in our schools and TVs. Bullshit shoved down our throats by government spokespeople and paid advertising--WE (you) have something to say, SAY IT!

Poetic Terrorism is profoundly nonviolent. It is the resistance of our voices. We are controlled by a submersion tank of manufactured ideas--by the media repeating the talking points of the government.

Poetic terrorism is about bringing the art of resistance into every facet of our lives. Live your life loudly. 'There is no becoming, no revolution, no struggle, no path; already you're the monarch of your own skin--your inviolable freedom waits to be completed only by the love of other monarchs: a politics of dream, urgent as the blueness of sky.'--Hakim Bey

This blog is open to anyone's words and ideas. If you would like to post, email jed.bickman@gmail.com to let me know--I'll give you privileges and then you can post whatever you want.

Peace and Solidarity,

Jed

Redeye"

P O E T I C T E R R O R I S M

 

[=Archives=]
March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 February 2006


[=Links=]
Students for Sensible Drug Policy
TAZ, Ontological Anarchy, And Poetic Terrorism
The Deoxyribonucleic Hyperdimension


   Earth" Friday, March 18, 2005  

And you will be seen
Paralyzed by the teacher's droning voice
These are the best days of your life
forced regurgitation of
propaganda disguised as facts
tests graded by security cameras
Rows of ideas withering on the vine
held parallel by wardens holding your minds in line.
you'd escape,
but you'd starve to death as soon as severed
from the teat of this steel cafeteria.
Here, you learn who the master is-
he wrote your textbooks,
and so he blinds you,
grinding numbertwo graphite into your eyes
his eyes are your shackles because
his lackeys see your every
impure thoughtcrime.
Your history is on loan from him.
Your ink is his black blood
Your ideas are his veins,
Your arteries pump his eyes
Seeing your every heartbeat
walk, chained man, walk.

   [ POSTED BY Jed @ 3:14 PM ] [ ]