50% Decline in Peter Gelderloos Blogspot Followers is Totally Fucking Unacceptable

I am not fucking around with you guys anymore. I just give and give and give, and you just take and take and take. Is this how you fucking repay me? Seriously guys? Are you fucking serious? Jesus Fucking Christ!

Things were great between us, I had two Blogspot followers. It wasn't much, but I'm not a needy man! But you just had to go and shit on it! The arrangement we had, it was perfect....

There was my first Blogspot follower, Peter, who I assume is only following my blog because we share the same first name. Peter, you've never fucked me in the back, you're one of the little heroes....

But my second Blogspot follower, Corvus - Man, you always seemed so cool, with your sophisticated Latin username and our possible mutual interests that I never bothered to learn about. I gave you my love, yet you gave me no love in return. And now you've stopped giving all together....

I will totally fucking kill myself if I don't get more Blogspot followers...I'm dead serious, this isn't like all those other times where I flaked out, I'll definitely do it this time! I have the razors and pills and everything, and I'm going to go out like the hardcore motherfucker I am!

You Blogspot followers are all I have, I care about you so much, and you go and abuse me and lead me on...and.......*bursts into tears*

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOUUUUUUU ALLLLLL (especially Corvus)

Marathon of Marginally Erudite Anarchistnews.org Articles Inhibits My Ability to Craft Intellectually Lazy Stereotype of Bourgeois Anarchists

When you are a soul-tinglingly inspired political author such as myself, you know how important it is to disguise the fact that you are a dogmatic political ideologue. Therefore it is occasionally necessary to make jabs at your ideological fellow-travelers to give the misleading allure of self-criticism and intellectual rigor.

As an anarchist ideologue I’ve always relied on anarchistnews.org, which has been called “4chan for anarchists”, but is in fact is the Internet anarchist equivalent of a McDonalds play-pin when a bunch of kids riding the “special bus” stop in for lunch during a field trip. In other words, bring lots of sawdust to mop up the vomit!

So when I’m writing a brilliant communiqué, I say some shit like “many anarchists in the first world or from socially privileged communities are still stuck in an electronic mass-media spectacle-influenced conception of anarchism, for example, a recent anonymous comment on anarchistnews.org…” and then I segue into some randomly copied-and-pasted piece of stoner verbal diarrhea generatd daily on the festering scab on humanity's asshole known as anarchistnews.org.

When you’re going to college you learn techniques to pad essays while expending the least amount of intellectual energy as possible so that you still have it together to get your game on later that night at the B-Dubs with some smokin’ bitches.

So it is with great disgust that I recently checked anarchistnews.org and found a nauseating update that consisted only of page after page of interesting and somewhat focused articles. The webmasters of anarchistnews.org have pulled some vulgar and offensive shit in the past, but this just crosses the line. Let’s look at some headlines:

“An attempt to report on the situation in France - Mouvement Communiste”

“Indigenous political prisoner Ryan Rainville still behind bars”

“New letter from Panayiotis Masouras”

“UK Police Informant Revealed”

“Another Communique from the movement in France”

“International Days of Action To Drop All Charges against Alexei Gaskarov and Maxim Solopov”

“Workers Don’t Care About Unions”
“New Arrests In Greece”

“A few notes on the appeal trial against the Salento anarchists (Italy)”

“Sabotage of optic fibres and digital cable of France 3 Nord Pas de Calais”

“Modesto: People Hit the Streets as Ex-Cop Details Ongoing Brutality”

C’mon, what is this shit? I wouldn’t even be too embarrassed to waste ink on printing some of this b.s. Stick with your bread and butter, anarchistnews.org! Let me give you some suggestions:

“Meet The Fockers and Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction”

“Leftist Shits Are Trying to Steal My Jumper Cables”

“Communique From Vandalized Newspaper Box on October 16^th”

“I Just Got Really Fucked Up And Decided To Write An Article”

“Could Optimus Prime Beat Up Goku?”

“Queering Your Asshole With a 6”-wide Dolphin Dildo”

“Negate The Social Rupture Like a Motherfucker!”

“Do A Barrel Roll”

“Nietzsche Contra Wagner and the Works of Lady Gaga”

“From Anti-Racist Warrior to Warrior Against Weak and Pathetic White Guilt”

“XXX nude pix of Squat Birth Journal editor Meghan Guthrie XXX”

See, it’s not that fucking hard, people!

Holy Shit, I Just Saw the Spider-Man for Real!

The "Let's Get This Motherfucka Started" Infoshop and Radical Autonomous Space in Barnesville, MN is a very illuminating example of an anti-authoritarian community project that has inspired and attracted the support of a broad range of ordinary people exploited by capitalism. However, in light of the "Let's Get This Motherfucka Started" Infoshop's success, it is our duty as revolutionaries to take a critical eye and ask ourselves if there is room for improvement. One of the main criticisms I can levy against the Barnesville, MN anarchist scene is attitudes of elitism that recreate the conditions....


Folks, my heart's not in it today. I have something else I want to talk to you about. Something important.

*tssk*

Alright, just gonna throw it out there, comrades - I saw the Spider-Man.

The Spider-Man.

I shit you not.

No, I was not tripping, and no, I was not drunk.

I was walking through the ghetto, reflecting on the simple honesty of those people, and how profoundly lucky they are not to be born into the stifling and emotionally suffocating bourgeois misery of an upper-class Northern Virginia suburub. And there I saw him.

A shock shot down my spine like lightning. In that immediate moment, he turned to me; that cold, uncaring stare. He must have used his Spidey Sense to pick up on my fear. Staring at him was like staring into the bleak, desolate, and ruinous face of a bitter winter's full moon. So powerful, so aware of his superiority to me the mere mortal.

Homies, I'm no snitch. I don't even use yellow lighters. I would never reveal The Spider-Man's true identity. I will say this with absolute certainty: Peter Parker is not the Spider-Man. Peter Parker is a privileged little white middle-class shit who works for the reactionary Daily Bugle and exploits The Spider-Man's proletarian heroism for profit.

The reason I know this is because I saw him, I looked into the coal-like eyes of a hardened vigilante. And The Spider-Man is a youth of color, no older than 12.

Now, the naysayers will ask, "How is this possible? There have been decades of Spider-Man sightings!" However it has been established that several individuals have maintained youthful longevity by bathing in the Lazarus Pit. People just need to grow up, break out of the psychological shackles of bourgeois Enlightenment rationality and accept that the world is a strange place.

Clearly this is another white supremacist attack on the black man, claiming The Spider-Man as a white cultural icon alongside reactionary vigilantes such as The Punisher and Deadpool. It is our duty as anti-racist activists and white allies of national liberation struggles to expose this heinous lie.

The only question that remains unanswered is the strange, spherical amulet The Spider-Man held in his hand. Orange, synthetically bright, shaped like a common, garden-variety pumpkin. Could he have obtained the device from a skirmish with his arch-nemesis, The Green Goblin? I'll leave it to you the reader to decide...

A Critical History of Harrisonburg's Struggle to Restore Bathroom Graffitti to the Little Grill Collective

The Little Grill is a diner in a working-class and POC neighborhood of Harrisonburg Virginia, originated in the 1930s. Since the 80s this diner has been a hangout for the social fringes and left-wing counterculture of Harrisonburg.

In the 1980s, the diner was ruled by the Bob Driver regime, which had a standard neo-liberal policy, but enjoyed popular success among the Little Grill's working-class due to the regime's tolerance towards restaurant workers drinking and smoking weed on the premises of the establishment past closing time into the early morning, and also for a variety of delicious breakfast sandwiches. In the 90s the Grill came under the control of the social-Christian Ron Copeland regime, and the Grill's working-class enjoyed social programs such as soup kitchens and free coffee and telephone usage for the homeless in exchange for conservative social policies such as restrictions on tarot readings and Dungeons & Dragons.

In recent history the Grill has come under the control of a new, supposedly collective, management system, and was renamed the Little Grill Collective. One would think that this would mean more freedom and control for the workers of the Little Grill, but in fact the progressive social programs of past regimes have been phased out, much like the austerity measures of European social-democracies.

Furthermore, the "collective" system has failed to liberate the workers of the Little Grill from wage slavery and other forms of economic exploitation, in fact this new "collective" system has reoriented the workers and given them a personal incentive to succeed in the capitalist market, therefore distracting from the cultivation of class-consciousness and the creation of a truly worker-controlled system.

Another facet we cannot ignore is the role the Little Grill has played in gentrifying the impoverished Harrisonburg neighborhood where the restaurant resides since the "collectivizing" process. Prices of food entrees have increased steadily, and the customer-basis has shifted towards mostly-white middle-income professionals, instead of the poor people of color who toil away in nearby housing projects and slum-apartments.

A good example of this overall attitude of acute social, economic, and political repression can be found in the men's bathroom of the Little Grill, where subversive and anti-establishment graffiti was tolerated, if not encouraged, by past regimes. The "collective" (informally ruled over by a few male charismatic personalities) chose to end this practice and unsuccessfully tried to shift away the workers' instinctual desire to rupture with the capitalist property system by vandalizing the bathroom walls. This unsuccessful attempt involved the creation of a small blackboard on the bathroom door for the creation of sidewalk chalk graffiti, in tandem with a ban on traditional methods of pen and Magic Marker™ graffiti once commonly found all over all four walls and the ceiling of the bathroom.

In a daring act of illegal and non-violent direct action, an anonymous comrade decided to take a stand. Using copious amounts of Gorilla Glue™ (the strongest glue on planet earth™), this courageous anonymous comrade adhered a copy of the South Park: Chef's Luv Shack PlayStation video disc to the wall of the Little Grill Collective men's bathroom, right above the chalk blackboard. (This was in part a reference to past owner and head chef Bob Driver who used to woo his lady friends in the men's bathroom of the Little Grill, a man after my own heart!)

As a consequence of this very daring and bold action, the management of the Little Grill "collective" has now been forced to once again allow graffiti on the bathroom walls. This should be a lesson to everyone toiling under the daily political repression of capitalism; Another world is possible as long as we are prepared to take risks and stand up to forces of tyranny and exploitation. Direct action gets the goods!

The Miracle Cure for TAT's Pedophilia: My Rod

There has been a recent controversy on the Internet forum RevLeft, involving a user with the moniker "The Anarchist Tension" (named after a book by the patriarchal misogynist-sexist Alfredo Bonanno, whose writings in no way influenced the glorious Greek insurrection of '08)

Now, normally I wouldn't care because RevLeft is a bastion of privileged white highschool males without the charismatic manliness it takes to kick-start the revolution in the US. But this is a very serious issue because it involves threats to the anarchist movement by authoritarian Leninists, who, as I explained in my brilliant essay Fascists are a Tool of the State, are as bad as fascists in every way:

Authoritarian communists are just like another competing sect of fascists, and once in power they have shown willingness to use their same methods to purge or purify their country.(Link)

(Note that there are some exceptions to this such as the BPP and NLF, who were romantic and sexy colonized people of color with the balls to stand up to honky imperialism)

Anyway. "The Anarchist Tension" (or "TAT") used to be a moderator on RevLeft before he got in a heated verbal exchange with another moderator who is a dangerous authoritarian Leninist. Apparently, this second moderator, Deborah Allen, or "Smurfette", was running for a local city-council position. This is part of a well-known and historically precedented Leninist tactic to get elected onto local city councils as part of their grand strategy to send all anarchists and anti-authoritarians to an intergalactic Stalinist gulag.

There is also a good indication that TAT is being persecuted for his affiliation with the Red Anarchist Network, better known by their catchy acronym, RAAAN. As a user on the RAAAN forums explained:

Now of course who gives a fuck, because it's just stupid shitty Revleft, but TAT is a stand-up dude who many of us have had good discussions with, and he's a RAAN sympathizer, so I think people should know about this. And I know at least a handful of people from Revleft come and look at this thread, so please be advised that this is exactly what the fuck happens when you allow Leninists to participate in anything. (Link)

 

Now, I cannot approve of RAAAN, as they have never, at least to my knowledge, been to Greece, and are therefore inherently conceptually unable to divine the true wisdom of insurrectionism. But this is all very cut and dry: a cowardly Leninist attack on an anarchist comrade. Or is it?

 

It seems TAT himself has also gotten into controversy for using his moderator powers to ban personal critics. A Leninist counter-revolutionary, who masquerades on RevLeft under the names "gonzeau" and "Glenn Beck", (Could Leninists be planning a united front with the Tea Party?) has alleged that TAT is in fact a pedophile, based on scant and ambiguous evidence, such as these explicitly pro-pedophile statements made by TAT on RevLeft:

"13 is the age of consent in various countries including South Korea and Mexico. Some could argue that America’s (and other peoples) social conservatism is the problem [regarding the Roman Polanski case]"

"How many of us have had sexual fantasies about children or 'youths'? Perhaps it was a flash in the recesses of masturbation? Perhaps you’ve even entertained elaborate narratives or role played with partners? How many of us are truly prepared to admit that, at some point, as transient or as complex as it may have been, we have considered what it was like to have sex with a child?
That 'right' to have sex with children was taken away with the creation of the age of consent, which came into existence as a reaction to child prostitution during in the thirteenth century. It was allegedly quite popular and to tackle this problem they had the bright idea of setting the age that children could legally have sex (with anyone) at twelve. This was raised to thirteen six hundred years later in the Victorian era, as is the case in some Latin American countries and South Korea now, incidentally. The age of consent in the UK as it stands is sixteen, but in other European countries the age is mostly fourteen. These ages are so inconsistent around the word, both historically and in a contemporary sense that they appear totally arbitrary." (Link)

So TAT might be a pedophile...but let's remember that pedophilia is a disease, people, and we are fighting for a society oriented around rehabilitative rather than retributive justice. Luckily for TAT, I happen to have the secret weapon for fighting pedophilia. That's right, (*drumroll*) ...my dick. 

Bear me out, here. My dick transcends all boundaries of gender and sexual orientation and has shattered the deeply entrenched sexual preconceptions of lesbians and heterosexual men alike, in fact I cannot think of a single person who has looked upon my tremendous phallus and not felt an insatiable desire to have their world rocked hard. If this TAT character is truly a pedophile, there is only one cure. After gazing upon my 28-inch schlong, there is no way this guy will ever settle for the spritely little sprig of a young child ever again. 

So, TAT, as an influential and well-renowned anarchist leader, I call upon you to do the socially responsible thing and let me ride your Portuguese Eurotrash anarcho-hipster ass all night long. Only then will you know how it feels to be loved hard by a real, grown-up man, and abandon your exploitative sexual hang-ups.

Platformists are pretty lame, but so are those hardcore insurrectionists, like, maybe it's a false division or whatever, I don't know

This platformist was too indoctrinated into patriarchal Marxist-Leninist puritanism to appreciate my sexual advances

This insurrectionist hipster has isolated herself from the broad mass of the working-class through her failure to emphasize the revolutionary importance of community infrastructure and dual power projects, hence why she wouldn't sleep with me.

This morning I was a little bored of my normal schedule of disciplined revolutionary conditioning and vigorous masturbation, so I wandered down to the local public library. At this point I was a little groggy from the acute protein depletion caused by my excessive ejaculation and my recent decision to switch back to veganism. (Maybe that patriarchal sexist Nietzsche was right...nah...)

Regardless, my chick radar is always working at full-speed, although sometimes at the expense of my other brain functions, which is why I began drooling profusely when I saw the most beautiful librarian chick, y'know, the kind who pulls down her hair and takes off her glasses, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout, fellas. That's when I noticed she was reading the Northeastern Anarchist, which is when I knew it was my revolutionary duty to inform her that Platformist groups such as NEFAC are bigoted and reactionary opportunist vanguardists who haven't been to Greece and are thus unfamiliar with the historical conditions required to create revolution. Well, unfortunately, I wasn't at the top of my game and she ended up spraying me in the eyes with Mace. I think this is a very sad statement on Platformist tendencies in North America, who are afraid of making bold and daring revolutionary decisions such as sleeping with me, thus leading to an indefinite state of arrested development in terms of building a revolutionary anarchist project in the US.

Luckily I was quickly back on my feet, washing out my eyes in the public water fountain and scoping out my other possibilities. Then I noticed this totally fucking hot hipster chick who was giving me a 22-inch boner. I also noticed that she was at the library computer reading Modesto Anarcho or Social Rupture or some stupid shit, had a copy of The Coming Insurrection in her hand (or it might have been Bonnano, I don't really remember, it's all the same privileged white male crap) and she had two lapel pins that said "Keep it Prole!" and "RAAN like a motherfucker!", so I figured I was good to go.

"Hey babe, did you know that I've been to Greece?"
"Uh-huh"

Her lack of interest in my studly body gave me some sort of indication that she may still be enmeshed in the nihilistic, misanthropic, and primitivistic ideologies of the late 90s North American anarchist scene, as embodied by groups such as Earth First! and Green Anarchy, so I decided to educate her on the correct theoretical direction, name-dropping some classic anarchist texts such as Consensus: A New Handbook for Grassroots Social, Political, and Environmental Groups by Peter Gelderloos, To Get to the Other Side: A Journey Through Europe and its Anarchist Movements by Peter Gelderloos, and A Critical History of Harrisonburg Food Not Bombs by Peter Gelderloos. At that point she decided she was no longer interested in an honest and non-ideological exploration of political theory, because she then proceeded to knee me in the nutsack.

I think this is a perfect illustration of how US insurrectionists, having not been to Greece, tend to glorify "hooliganism" and "violent social rupture" as a spectacular display, divorcing insurrection from the important work of building a grass-roots, horizontal, community-based anti-authoritarian movement which meets the needs of the community through formal and directly democratic decision-making.

Does anyone have some ice or something I can put on this? Because my left nut is still seriously discolored.

A Radical Guide to Vigorous Masturbation

"Pump it up when you don't really need it.
Pump it up until you can't feel it." - Defiance Ohio

I don't want this blog to just be a bunch of esoteric and arcane political theory with no relation to our day-to-day lives, so today I thought I share a little bit about a personal passion of mine, with you, the faithful readership.

Some Hindus and Taoists might complain and say that constant male ejaculation is unhealthy, but this is clearly just a puritanical and patriarchal religious attitude used to enforce fuedal sexual oppression and the subjugation of women. Plus yoga and tai chi will not get you built like a steel stallion for the bloody and turbulent revolutionary road ahead.

I mean, sure, I'm not saying your special lady friend will complain if you can last an hour and a half without busting a nut, but the real secret to lovemaking success is to be able to bust several nuts in a row and keep on performing.

Now unless you get as much tail as I do, you need to practice solo to get that good. So let's get started.

Atmosphere

Atmosphere is very important. You have to feel like the mood is just right. So put on some sexy music like Al Green or Le Tigre. This isn't just self-abuse, it's self-love, albeit tough love.

 And don't be afraid to light candles, to get in touch with your feminine side. If you don't know how to treat yourself, how are you going to treat the ladies?

The Right Mental Image

If you're like me than you've deflowered dozens if not hundreds of earnest and naive female student activists over the years, after hours upon hours of consent dialogue before hand. (I call it foreplay) Thus you may want to use the miraculous capacity of the human memory to recall a nostalgic recollection of a past tryst.  If not, you can always rely on the old stand-by, a mental image of a famous historical anarchist. (Ricardo Flores Magón, rawr) Whatever the image is, it's important that you have one in your mind at all times, otherwise you might be reminded of how utterly solitary and alone you are in your dingy apartment that some really generous Swedish anarcho-punks are letting you squat in, even though their mother was going to stay in that room for the weekend.

Pace and Tempo

This part is crucial. Masturbation is self-love but that doesn't mean there's anything nice or gentle about it, so tear that shit up. Your cock is the property of the global ruling class so show those bastards you're not afraid of jerking it into a bloody pulp. The rougher it is, the more erogenous nerve-endings are destroyed. The more erogenous nerve-endings are destroyed, the less likely you will be to shoot it off early inside the body cavity-of-choice of some 100% willing and consenting 18-year-old college freshman.

Clean-up

Again, unless you're one of those backwards, reactionary, gender essentialist Taoists who doesn't believe in ejaculation, there should be some clean-up afterwards. That's not usually a problem with me, because I jerk it so hard that my prostate doesn't really have the time or energy to whip up a new batch of man-chowder every time I pop the weasel. But regardless, I want to stress the importance of not using Kleenex, because that shit will dry and stick to the end of your dick like a fucking Band-Aid, and nobody wants that. Semen is like God's wallpaper glue. And avoid the temptation to keep around a monkey rag, because that will scare off the chicks, who, tragically due to their internalization of patriarchal oppression, view compulsive masturbation as kind of creepy. The best bet, I've found, is to just go ahead and smear that shit on your bedroom wall. Don't feel grossed out about it, it's totally organic, and you'll be just like those hippie chicks who paint with their menstrual blood. (When they do it, it isn't considered gross, it's considered quirky and cool, talk about gender reductionism!) If anyone asks, just say it's stucco. If they ask why the rest of the house doesn't have stucco walls, just tell them it's security culture

Well, I hope this informative little post helped you out, but remember, you're not going to become an ace masturbator like me standing around reading blog posts on the Internet, like every good skill it takes practice!

Virginians Can Suck On My Dick

Figure 1: A typical Virginia "anarchist"

One of my faithful Internet defenders (I call them the little heroes) recently rebuked a vicious smear-campaign originated by scrawny methed-up Virginians who are clearly jealous of how much pussy I get. To quote in full:

Actually [Gelderloos] wasn't thrown out of Virginia and he wasn't accused of rape. Other people who had a grudge spread that rumor. No one actually made that accusation themselves. Thanks to the maturity level of anarchists, rumors still kickin around cuz everyone would rather pass on shit they hear rather than figure it out themselves. so let's all get don quixote and try to have an accountability process with a rumor mill. can't hardly wait.

I have already written once on this blog regarding the subject of haters, and the very real and serious threat they pose to our movement to build a better world. So let's set the record straight, no one "threw me out" of Virginia, I'm Peter Gelderloos, I go where I want, bitches. Those Old Crow Medicine Show-obsessed, trucker hat-wearing crackers practically begged me to stay. I left because I was fucking tired of their bitch-ass little state and having to single-handedly organize all the activist projects at once because the local political leadership was too busy shooting at traffic signs with sawed-off shotguns and playing ten-cup beer pong with Busch beer. 

 

And for those of you little poseur-ass McGaheysville Crips who think you're gangsta because you and your three punk friends grow weed in the George Washington National Forest, I hate to inform you dickless bitches, but there's something out there called the rest of North America west of the Missisippi river, which you wouldn't know about that because the camper you live in currently has raccoons nesting in the engine. (Yeah, right, tell animal control they are "pets") Why don't you go out to the West Coast some time, or Colorado, where they have some real fucking mountains. (And before some faggot University of Virginia professor chimes in with some shit about how the Appalachians are the "oldest mountain range in the world", who honestly gives a shit? Do you think we should go back to wearing leopard-skin loinclothes and eating dinosaur eggs you fucking backwoods primmie redneck?) If you're lucky, some real fucking gangstas might smoke you up with OG kush, if they don't fucking stab you in the gut for being such an East Coast pussy.

So what's the problem? Why does the Virginia scene hate me so much? I can't say for certain but I'm sure it has nothing to do with how awesome I am with the ladies. (Hey, Virginia "anarchists", I'll clue you in on my secret, it's called a toothbrush) I would apologize for rocking so hard, but when you're this damn sexy you don't have to apologize to anyone. You Virginia yokels will just have to learn to live with the fact that I fucked your deadneck sister raw in the back of your ice-head father's '58 Chevy, even though she's so sensitive because she has dreads and an aum tattoo on the nape of her neck, and then I went and fucked one of those preppy JMU sluts you hate so much, with your deadneck sister's syphilis-infested pussy juices still fresh on my 15-inch dick.

So fuck you Virginia, there's a reason your "purple mountains majesty" are glorified in patriarchal anthems of US imperialism, it's because they're ugly little piles of shit, just like the entire East Coast is an ugly little pile of shit, I wouldn't come back if you fat redneck bitches begged me. And go shove your "struggle to end mountaintop mining" up your conceited ass, you primitivist romanticist essentialist, you only want anarchy so the pigs don't fuck with your cock-fighting ring. Oh what, you think the conditions of the Virginia prison system are "deplorable"? You've never languished in a Franco-throwback Spanish gulag, like I have, not knowing my fate, or whether or not my parents will use their diplomatic ties to pull strings and get me out. Huh, well have you, tough guy? As far as I'm concerned, you little schmucks deserve Red Onion.

 

PS: I've been to the Natural Bridge, it's not that great, it's a fucking rock with a hole in it. Also, the spaghetti they serve at Midnight Spaghetti and the Chocolate G-Strings concerts is fucking horrible, it's not even worth staying up until midnight.

Figure 2: A bunch of fucking pussies. Guess where they're from....

Comments on Nachie's Samavartaka

"Satan My Master, I slit my wrists to drain me of my blood" - Defiance Ohio

I wake up. What time is it? It's either very early in the morning or very late in the afternoon. My sheets need to be changed, I can feel the crumpled up balls of paper and used condoms scratching up against my beautifully carved body. My mattress has gone flat, maybe I should get my parents to buy me one of those Tempur-Pedic mattresses...nah, that's a bourgeois luxury I cannot afford. Keep it together Peter! Eye of the tiger, Peter, eye of the tiger. I gotta be tough, I gotta be a survivor. I've made a lot of enemies in the past. That's what happens when you rock as hard as I do all the fucking time. My hard-on is making it difficult for me to sleep on my stomach...welp, I know the cure for that, luckily I got that Vaseline I shoplifted from WaWa during my daring adventures in Delaware.

When you've had as many beautiful and willing ladies as I have, selecting your masturbation fantasy is like beholding vast cornucopia of sensual pleasures. 1-2-3 like magic, right on the wall. Nailed 'em! Haven't been squatting in this place for long but I already have the egg-like sheen 'goin, organic bitches love that avant garde body art shit. But the truth is, I gotta move on from Australia, I'm just tired of the whole Australian "scene". But first, Pizza Rolls.

After stuffing my face with Pizza Rolls, I check anarchistnews.org, such a loathesome little website. There's something by a guy named Nachie called Samavartaka, I give it a cursory glance, perhaps I should write a rebuttal essay about the Orientalist reductionism. I'll call it "Comments on Nachie's Samavartaka".

The black dog materializes in front of me again

"PETER, THE TIME HAS COME, EMBRACE YOUR DARK MASTER, THE WANING MOON CALLS TO YOU THIS BLEAK AUTUMN NIGHT, WORLDS OF CHAOS WILL UNFOLD BEFORE YOUR EYES, EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY AND GRASP THE FIREY SWORD!"

I vomit up the pizza rolls. Time to become a vegan again.

Jan Michael Dichter: Haters Gotta Hate

"If you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you son, I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one."

-Defiance Ohio

You know what makes me sick? A bunch of so-called "feminists" from the imperialist metropolis who feel entitled to bypass formal consensus-based conflict resolution and behave like the patriarchal lynchmobs of the past.

I've seen this before in my daring expeditions across the globe. Last week I was in the Amazon rainforest and the indigenous people of color I was chillin' with got into this whole thing about hatin'. That's just what happens when you're so damn good, the haters start to swarm like flies. They can't handle how bold and sexy and articulate you are in demanding the emancipation of all oppressed people that they start to whine about how you're a "rapist prick".

Let's read some of this straight-up B.S.

Ideologically speaking, male-bodied anarchists and communists align with principles of egalitarianism and anti-authoritarianism, yet daily practices in this regard oftentimes fall short.  We have repeatedly seen a chasm between theory and praxis in male-bodied treatment of women and other oppressed people. 

Blah blah, change the record, I've encountered these lesbian COINTELPRO types before, but let me tell you that in all likelihood they are the rapists. I don't know how many so-called "female-bodied" people (talk about gender binary reductionism!) have tried to take advantage of me and explot the fact that I am so awesome. To which I gotta say, back off ladies! Just because we got something good on the "down low" doesn't mean I can't hang with other bitches, you know what I'm saying?

These are probably the same "feminist" weasels who whine when daring Islamic revolutionary leaders take charge against the forces of US imperialism. Our comrades in the Middle East have this problem frequently, so-called "women and other oppressed people" get on revolutionary leaders of a truly heroic magnitude because they're so fucking good at giving me a 14-inch rager.

So from one revolutionary leader to another, I salute you Jan Michael "Maus" Dichter, author of the "Like Lost Children" blog. Unlike some so-called "feminists" I remember the revolutionary principle of bros before hos.

An Anarchist Critique of "Super Smash Bros. Melee"

Super Smash Bros. Melee failed my expectations as an anarchist.

In my masterpiece How Non-Violence Protects the State, I wrote

Closing the list of common delusions is the all-too-frequent claim that violence alienates people. This is glaringly false. Violent video games [...] are the most popular. (Southend Press edition, p. 130)

Thus, despite my typical disgust with bourgeois comfort and luxury, I consider it my revolutionary duty to toil away for hours, damaging my hawk-like optic nerves and cramping my already-abused wrists, in order to analyze this important cultural phenomenon.

Sometimes, however, it gets very dreary to have my senses numbed by sordid array of fast-paced, new release video games made available to me in my crushingly comfortable and decadent suburban Northern Virginia environment. When that happens, I find a good cure is to wander through the poor quarters of No.VA., where humble and quietly dignified poor and oppressed people of color work their callused and honest hands in ox-like servitude to the global bourgeoisie. Among these meek and decrepit street bazaars and open-air markets, where the rich smell of exotic spice is thick in the air like forbidden love, I encountered a copy of Super Smash Bros. Melee, badly scratched and without a case, for 25¢.

So I thought I'd give this introductory blog post a retro feel with this nostalgic throwback to 2008, when Le Tigre's Hot Topic was hitting the charts, and I was leading a daring insurrection against counter-revolutionary hippie saboteurs.

Welp, sad to say I was not happy with this game. Sure it was "fun", but it did not live up to my expectations. The compelling story of people of all nations and backgrounds (gorillas, dinosaurs, space pirates, etc.) uniting to fight a common enemy was, sadly, not well-executed. Instead of revealing the common enemy to be the global capitalist system, the plight of the protagonists is blamed on a giant magical glove. This is an all-too-common theme among capitalist and sexist literature, where the hero's destiny is placed in the hands of an invisible, all-powerful creator. Also, the designer's misplaced focus on the game's multiplayer mode, at the expense of the quality of the single-player mode, seems to encourage young people to ignore their shared oppressor in favor of chaotic and hectic class-fratricidal skirmishes. (I've been told that this has been at least partly corrected in the recent sequel, Super Smash Bros. Brawl, but I wouldn't know since I refuse to own a Wii. Sorry, folks, there are some chick repellents that even a 13-inch schlong and a much-deserved reputation as an ingenious anarchist scholar can't cancel out)

Sure a bourgeois critic would point out that the multiplayer mode is for "fun", but building correct insurrectionary consciousness is not supposed to be "fun". Are 13½-hour knife-training sessions with sharpened steel blades "fun"? No. But it is our revolutionary duty none-the-less.

Of course the elephant in the room is the game's offensive and racist portrayal of indigenous people, in the form of the "Ice Climber" characters. Given the Japanese government's colonial exploitation of indigenous groups, I found this to be in very bad taste. I also thought choosing to show the male Ice Climber wearing a dark-purple parka, and the female Ice Climber wearing a light-pink parka, was a cowardly a unimaginative retreat into the shackling conventions of gender binary.

So no, I did not think Super Smash Bros. Melee is a very good game from an anarchist point of view, maybe some Leftists will say otherwise. Admittedly my enjoyment of the game may have been impaired by the copious scratches on the disc and the fact that my Gamecube is currently held together with duct tape and chewed gum.