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Title: The Swelling of Leeches
Author: Cocktail Furies
Date: Fall/Winter 2004
Language: en
Topics: green anarchy, Green Anarchy #18, civilization, culture
Source: Retrieved on 21 August 2018 from http://greenanarchy.anarchyplanet.org/files/2012/05/greenanarchy18.pdf
Notes: from Green Anarchy #18, Fall/Winter 2004

Cocktail Furies

The Swelling of Leeches

Fractal Vision One: Arrival

Rising from our bloody birth fluids, we leave the warm familiarity of

the organic Precambrian ooze, and our (still free) consciousness begins

its brutal interaction with a hostile all-encompassing social

organization – a coldly-oppressive, mechanistic SYSTEM that demands our

conformity and our docile assimilation into its robot-like “community.”

This large-scale Institution of regularity and uniformity emits many

fragrant odors and force-feeds us the myth of its artificial,

manufactured Perfection, but this is nothing more than a bubble of film,

conjurer’s trickwork projected over the actual landscape of exhaustion –

a graveyard of slave laborers reduced to dehumanized components of the

capitalist Imperium, absorbed into the anonymity of social and economic

structures. Like prefabricated automatons, they represent and embody a

historical process, the abstraction of the individual which lies at the

heart of mass production. They are the adults, the domesticated, the

BROKEN; the dull who delight in the following of petty rules, the

standardized functionaries who (through the scientific conditioning of

the Command machine) are under the remote control of the aristocracy;

unable to think or act without permission, these vacuous sleepers are

“animated” only by the daily struggle for survival, the desperate hope

of escape from the place which history has made for them.

This drugged stupor (chemicals not required!) that passes for life and

awareness is OUR future too, for there is spell/code, an “abracadabra”

implanted in the brain of every child educated/ processed by

civilization, the mantra of restriction – a SLAVE IDEOLOGY designed to

set limits on autonomous thought and to successfully inoculate against

any shift in allegiance. Brought up on a vast array of lunatic imprints,

our habit-encrusted former minds are blind servants to the repetition

compulsion, carrying out the work of our Masters in servile compliance.

We all wear the same mask of submission and the message everywhere is of

Power.

Fractal Vision Two: Once Upon a Time

The more we study the hierarchical conspiracy, the more we realize how

consistent it is with the pattern of modern history, that is, the

Official discourse of human social development. From symbols and

rituals, from the religious and cultural myths of Egypt, Persia and

Mesopotamia to high-tech subliminals and the propaganda in printed

advertising that the eye doesn’t recognize, the pattern was set long

ago, and there has been no deviation from it since the dawn of

civilization. Although the facts have been doctored to fit the approved

concepts of the Dominant Culture, there is little doubt that a New Order

of domestication began with the march of agriculture, and the male

accumulation of Capital and political power (patriarchy).

An immense institutional and ideological complex – a social pyramid –

took hold and spread by contagion. Protection is the first necessity of

opulence and luxury and the first Pharaohs had to be protected. The

whole social order, favorable to their hygienic idleness and parasitism,

required a cycle of conquest, extermination, and a chronic economy of

war to quell the constant rebellions against Capital’s enclosure.

Civilization was faced with the technical challenge of enforcing

stringent parameters policing the levels of discontent within its

boundaries. The slaves and prisoners were fed small humiliations,

everyday defeats, despair and dullness in negligible doses that settled

down in them, layer after layer, like sediment, until their souls were

choked with sludge. They soon became blind and cannibalistic.

Fractal Vision Three: Dance of the Dead

The chimera of commodity culture has commodified anxiety (the surplus

economy of the chattering classes reclining horizontally under the

watchful beady eye of the psychiatric police.) Neurotic society thrives

upon the crisis of its own insecurity; self-obsessed, picking at its own

leaking sores to perpetuate irritation – the festering signs of its

profitable dis-ease. It is the luminous specter of aesthetic pestilence

and (s)existential illness, downgrading pleasure towards the sanctioned

static of TV catatonia; an apparition of security and comfort delivering

only inculcated fear and vexation.

A montage of cattle-like herds, grinding machinery and clocks litter the

distressed landscape in which the putrescent waste pipes and factory

death-fumes are evidence of the irreversible process of entropy. The

prisoner continues to work, expending his/her energy to manufacture

their own eradication, when freedom finally arrives in the form of

death. The prisoners take on the nature of a commodity because the

conditions that create their absolute dependence on the system are

reproduced in the mesmerizing effects of THE PRODUCT. THE PRISONERS’ OWN

ENERGY ENCASES THEM.

Capitalism has wired work and consumption with a morbid intimacy and the

liberation of the prisoners is negotiated according to the axioms of

industrial dispute, taking wage control and “benefits” to be the only

effective bargaining tokens. “We want the right to work, we want equal

pay” represents the demand for universal prostitution pimped out to the

exhaustive transactions of “organized labor.” The prisoners continue to

offer praise to the servile Machine, patronizing the dedicated slave

mimicry of its parental masters; they extol the virtues of “the supreme

and original program” – the work ethic – and have sentimental feelings

for the test-tube from which they were conceived. THE HYPNOTIC STATE IS

THE PSYCHOTIC STATE.

Fractal Vision Four: Many Happy Returns

A madman is laying waste to the planet. This madman’s imposed social

order – civilization – is a laboratory producing monstrosities,

incessantly mutilating and massacring individuals, eco-systems and life

itself through its technology of prostitution and its logic of

totalistic submission. Bhopal, Agent Orange, the invasion of Iraq, Mad

Cow Disease – these are not “blunders” but rather part of the

inescapable tendency of capitalist production and civilization’s

cumulative effect on the meta-biological scale.

To “manage” its own contradictions and rebellious “by-products” the

System has invested considerable energy into the construction of a vast,

colossal ideological dam, against which a reservoir of expanding energy

presses, heaving under the strain, creaking and groaning with the

expansion of unrealized lives.

The cerebral zenith of this ideological con job is the cold equation of

life with work, and the bland assertion that the social dislocation

caused by progress and mechanization was “inevitable”. If Capital can

extend its accumulative logic back to prehistory, which suggests the

will to civilization in the species’ infancy, then the concept of

manufacture (the production of objects and objectivity) must be counted

as the principle feature grounding social grouping. This massive LIE has

been oversubscribed as a generic myth secreted beneath every obliging

account of the linear development from cave dweller to cul-de-sac

resident. And like any archetypal narrative de(in)scribing the process

of accumulation, such anecdotes are mediated by metaphors which honor

the necessities of exchange-value, hence there is a price to pay FOR

civilization (so the metaphor goes), and that price is the inhibition of

primary instincts in return for the sublimated profits of the modern

social topography with all its mediated exchanges.

When humans began to organize life into an economic system of commodity

exchange, the spirit of life began to leave this place, and we began a

long journey through misery. We say this “Trail of Tears” is over. We

say it’s time to take off our armor and come out to play. OUR FANGS

GLINT, AS WE PROWL WITH OLD EYES THAT MOVE WITH A SPIRIT IN ITS WAKE...

Fractal Vision Five: Fallout

We despairingly toil to subsist in a damned world where business

adversaries fight wars over the carrion of States, where corporate

dynasties set their nightmares loose to graze on their shattered and

dazed prisoners – mere meat stockpiled for the victory feast of the New

World Order. Everyone sleeps here in a single grave; a generalized

denial, or dislocation of awareness, woven into the fabric of daily life

– a condition of pervasive surrender to the strangulation of our planet.

It would appear that this autocratic system of coercion is consolidating

its power and strengthening the dominance of its’ capitalist

organization, nakedly preparing for a final, bloody saturnalia of mass

slaughter. Except for one unavoidable glitch in the Mechanization

process: CULTURE PROGRAMMING IS NOT ALWAYS SUCCESSFUL. More and more of

us have broken out of the complex maze of scarred neurostructures and

caught glimpses of the Totality of the System as distinguished from the

fantasies promulgated by the advertising priests or in junior high

school government classes. We have become utterly cognizant of the

dominant minority’s conspiracy of power, awakened to the inevitable doom

of the Empire, and for us there is no possibility of reintegrating into

the pathology of the biocidal Control Machine. WE ARE NOT “MINOR

ANOMALIES”. THE FISSURES IN THE SURFACE OF OUR MINDS ARE ALSO FISSURES

IN THE SURFACE OF SOCIETY. With the dissolution of our mental bonds, we

have become economically useless, unfit for service, and unwilling to be

sacrificed. Our existence spoils the symmetry of Leviathan’s “perfect”

mechanical order and as anti-hypnotic agents, we’re encouraged by the

growing prospects for authentic (non-choreographed) rebellion. For while

Capital may indeed have our bodies in its jaws, we also live in a period

of warp-speed cultural disintegration and unprecedented opportunities

for anarchic deconstruction abound...

The system is realizing a thermodynamic boiling point; the core is

heating up, achieving the stage of no return: civilization is attaining

critical mass, speeding up, increasing velocity until a

hyper-instantaneous terminal impact shatters the glass console into

10,000 pieces of wreckage. In the rearview mirror Sade’s perpetual

motion machine spins dangerously from its centrifuge, propelling pieces

of debris – dismembered limbs and engine components flying in all

directions. Each glance into the mirror yields a myriad of disasters

captured in edited sequence by the egomaniacal Spectacle. The talismans

of the Empire are being trampled upon by ripping tornadoes of change,

and the Pentagon of Power is revealed to be a dilapidated palace of

cracked, degenerate plastic.

Amidst all this carnage, the Left (an equally condemned excrescence of

capitalism) acts out its own perennial self-doubt; a dramatic travesty

of political decline producing sham performances of expected civil

“disobedience”. The Left’s “demonstrative” routines (and thorough

befuddlement) become symbolically performative once redemptive LESSONS

can be squeezed from its corrupt LESIONS. Passing beyond the perplexity

of the Left, we see in the flames of civilization immeasurable

possibilities for a boundless, unconfined existence.

As anarchists (individuals opposed to ALL systems) we have no desire to

ameliorate the downfall of this fading power structure or to “save” the

human race from itself. We’re not interested in “curing” or

“restructuring” the system and we’re even more repulsed by the Leftist

version of “revolution”. Our dreams and our praxis are explicitly

anti-authoritarian, but as an autonomous anarchist cell, our primary

motivation’s different from many of our starry-eyed, idealist

associates. While we derive joy and a sense of personal liberation from

the act of defiance itself, we consider the concept of a “mass social

movement” to be an ungrounded, delusional abstraction, and are not

stimulated to revolt by self-deceptive optimism. As individuals, we’re

in this struggle for a more primal reason and it’s cold and it’s old and

it’s easy to understand: revenge.

Revenge for 10,000 years of abuse, of class predation, of sensual

repression, of global usurpation, of being obliged to bow our knees to

Caesar’s iron-rod rule. Capital’s currency is nothing more than the sum

total of our damaged hearts and minds, the symbolic representation of

our ancestors’ blood, of all the species and cultures scoured to

extinction, of all the Earth’s wounds. Ours will be a high-tempo fluid

war that has no defined fronts or formations, designed to suck our enemy

into traps of His own creation, taking advantage of the System’s

stupidities and weaknesses and avoiding its strengths.

We’re sharpening our arrowheads, invisible hunters with nothing left to

lose. Cum! Cum! Let’s be going!