lifted from the upcoming "Sols From Strange Dislocales, number 9" zine...
1) Continually revisit constant impossibilities, hyper demanding scenarios of real heaven, don’t settle, the impossible is conceivable, the improbable, the idea. The dialectics of cloaked demands, enacted f’real.
2) We are forced by economics, society, the Spectacle, Leviathan, etc… into solitary confinement with the veil of “free choice”. Damned to reciprocate the same hollow gesture, the same meaningless un-nuanced corpse mouthed musings.
Or those that go against it end up brawling on the insides of a closed boxcar, never neutral on a moving train, but always fighting, never seeing the daylight of freedom, doors never opened.
Meanwhile, feigned charisma leads the pseudo-bohemia on their charted course, going from one divey-cheapskate small business gentrifying location to the next without thought, a herd of hip semi-talented sheep… Your city is ripe with young folks trained to be beholden to the vague glamour of indie-art and quaint small business, not un-talented, normally well meaning, yet something doesn’t quite fit… our needs for authentic culture are not being met in this scenario, we need to demand or create more. After all, every mega-mart was once an aspiring small business, every hollow pop-star a nobody. And the business owners, we “dance monkey dance” for them, give them so much cultural capital, but how many opportunites to speak our mind do these culture goons really want to give us before they tighten our leash, kick our precarious asses to the curb, same as any other authority or master.
Fuck them, break the chain, disrupt the idle cycle of “hip” and demand every whim.
Leave those with corpses still in their mouths to swallow them and choke.