Give up money, status, and the rest of the illusions that entrap and enslave your soul
Moneys corrupts the social contract.
Don’t worry about credit,
Free work costs nothing.
Society needs no protection against guerrilla theatre.
Liberate space for free play:
Smile, play music, kiss…
Shock people out of the death they are complicit in.
What if what you did was want you wanted?
Live now, beautifully, creatively
Do it and see what happens.
Act out poetry in the street: an improvised explosive device used to detonate a charade,
A joke, a mistake, a quaint attempt to retain some semblance of control.
Open your eyes to a new lesson—the world is ours.
Create the condition you describe,
A feral jihad of insurgent play.
Into the streets!
Against all civilized repression!
Away with criminality!
Abolish need, despair, and desire!
Down with direction!
True beauty is everything irrupting always.
Death to futurism.
The world is ours.
Let go—search out life!
An oracle surviving in a culture that’s gone mad.
Consciousness is our battlefield,
Dispersing radicalized forces to assault cultural infrastructure
We attack! Destroying lines between spectator and spectacles
We are free already
painting with rageful brushes
Revolution is in the street!
On the Walls!
Long live conflict!
The war is won already!
Into the streets!
Free the city!
Free the mind!
For the end of the world!
For the end of industrial pillaging!
The end of knowing!
The end of seriousness!
The end of the road!
For the end….!
(and ever after)
We are nature
The 1% of us who are free
We happy few give back to the community
We open to the beauty of our inner lives
The theatre of the free
Acted out by the schizophrenic pathfinders.
Autonomous, decentralized, ecological
Act up and out
For the health of our homes.
-the eternal 1%