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.
Fuck the present. It waits in quivering anticipation for Gatsby's green light, wallowing in it's own semen of a thousand wasted teenage kleenex. And then Morson ridicules us for perverting it into what we wish or what we fear? The present is infinitly thin, like a line, like the wire around your neck, cutting into your skin, pulling tighter, tighter, and you can only get a moment's breath, a "present," a repreive from death by relaxing, giving in to it, just long enough so you can hurl your elbow into your attacker's nuts. And then you wonder why your own genitals are so brused--yet you (me, electrons, and The Pope) spend every moment hurling your fist into your crotch, taking huge gasping breaths, trying to create a "here and now." Mostly because the Government's been telling you that you actually *want* to live in the present since you've been a baby, denying you your past, owning your future. You deserve more breathing room in time than this infinitly small point you've been given (and you have to pay taxes on even that!) Fuck the present.
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" Friday, April 08, 2005