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Title: Message in a Bottle Author: Anonymous Date: 2017 Language: en Topics: anti-social, england, alienation, defiance, Return Fire Source: Return Fire vol.5 Notes: PDFs of Return Fire and related publications can be read, downloaded and printed by searching actforfree.nostate.net for "Return Fire", or emailing returnfire@riseup.net
“The psychiatrist concluded her evaluation: “I would consider this
individual incorrigible. He has much hostility in him for being poor and
seems to have an unending resevoir of energy. This type of habitual
criminal neither profits from experience nor punishment. He can only
work against society and thereby derive power, and he will always be
able to find followers whom he can impress with his intelligence and
destructive drives. He will never be able to work within society.
Diagnosis: sociopathic personality, antisocial type.” ” – Joseph
Wambaugh,
'The Onion Field'
It's already here, under the carpet, behind the sofa; the pedo, the
bogeyman, those outlaws out there... Not in our home! Not in our English
castle! Not our children! Send them to army cadets, think about
revisiting church... look! Another royal baby, royal wedding, anything
to distract us from the risk of the unknown, so we don't have to
question our own comfort zone...
It's behind you! It's behind you! No it's fucking not. It stinks, it's
right under the bridge of your nose. Here's how it goes: Mr Acceptable
is Mr Scared, Mr Scared never dares to do what he wants, Mr Scared
becomes Mr Compromise, Mr Compromise just goes along with everyone else,
Mr Compromise eventually becomes Mr Very Frustrated who turns into Mr
Bitter who sees himself as Mr Hard-Done-By, without looking their
relationship to the rest of the world, so Mr Misinformed goes quietly
about his business, piling shit on top of shit, never really thinks and
trips on every obstacle that comes their way, then when their life comes
to an end, they're still in a muddle and can't decide whether they're
just Mr Ordinary or Mr Blind! So they die as Mr Confused! There is no
moral to this short passage because Mr Mediocre never saw himself as
anything less or anything more than Mr Ordinary so had nothing of real
value to say.
We are slowly dying. Some of us are content and contain ourselves with
punching out our own eyes, going blind and fading away. Some of us are
never grateful, always asking why; stifled artists who want to see
things a different way, like punching out windows to see if anyone will
wake up! Turn on the light!
We end up doubting ourselves and our own assessment of what we feel is
desirable. Glued to the spot, angry but unable to take action, forced to
anesthetise the situation... self-harm instead of state-harm. We
internalise the misery nationally, state of the nation, “it's your round
John innit? I'll have another Guinness.”
Do we live fake lives? We wake up and the sun's shining, we are happy.
No, wrong, we wake up, we take a happy pill, yeah now the sun's shining.
We drag ourselves to jobs that don't mean a thing to us; we do it
because it brings in the cash, it is the only equation we have worked
out to survive so far.
If we crave violence because our emotions are not being fulfilled, we
can have virtual reality or some other simulation, and there's war
reenactment tailored to business-as-usual. We can see nudity everywhere
except out there in the streets, in our day-to-day lives; we can watch
porn, maybe we can have sex, but is that the only level of connection?
Are people emotionally involved anymore? Is there any reason to be? Are
people connnected, is there any community? Do we just sit in the pub or
club and try to hear each other speak over the music and drunken voices,
does it feel worth competing in the struggle to communicate? Where can
we meet to try to build meaningful relationships, instead of shallow
acquaintances, where we live so separate from each other in our
propped-up fantasy worlds? Where are people in their thirties; too
scared to let their hair down?! Given up? Sat in the corner snogging
Facebook?
Banksy [ed. – quasi-institutionalised Bristol graffiti artist] may have
said some people just don't get up in the morning, they just don't have
the right trainers; so they haven't bothered to enter the rat-race. They
ignore the competition. In the commerce of daily society, there's a lot
of people that are seen as drop-outs, but there are some of us even
though conventionally crushed we have risen in our own field, to claim
our own little bit. Because some of us know what is possible, the days
when inside us we stride like giants in the knowledge that despite of
all their security measures we are still able to lift our fists and
strike their apparatus... even though we know inside we are not giants.
Maybe fleas... difficult to find...
(G4S) warning this vehicle sometimes contains ANTI-SYSTEM SMART ROBBERS