- Hail self-constituted judgment. Hail nature above good or evil. Hail instinct for joy. Hail blazing peace. How blindness to all stupidity is the highest bliss — and clearest sight!
- The anarchist inside of you and the one outside of you are not the same. One would guide you to your triumph of your “I”, and one would lead you as you had been lead before into submission and toxic vapors of “rights” and “legal avenues.”
- The politician has you in his sights! He would pull the trigger at the very moment your beautiful black flag unfurls to eclipse those of the empires and of the republics. Dare to become bulletproof! Dare to rise against their Hate for True Freedom!
- The voice of “the people” is never the voice arising from you or me. That voice is the bleating of society’s sheep comfortably corralled by the barred windows looking out on the burning Earth. The voice of the victorious “I” is the final, deadly thunderclap that rings in the destruction of these walls.
- I trekked through here without shoes, without clothes… I instigated in myself the primal bareness of the basic mode of living… and in all of this, I was denied the very breath of my lungs, the very beat of my heart. And even though my very naked self had taught them what life really is — they who held authority taught me what life really comes down to. (Easy answer: “be brutal or be brutalized”.)
- Once I thought the purpose of living was to be good and say your prayers. Now I know, through the toil of my body and the history of the scars of my soul, that it is really to straighten one’s spine and cackle in liberating insanity with the blood of one’s foes streaming down one’s face.
- Ye mighty may be slain; ye wise may grow weary; but I am the infinite! I am the easy reach into stark perfection!
- Consequence? The consequence of my audacity? I devour it like the body of Christ in my atheist malice! I undo my bandolier in the moment before the end of battle; I pace with focus into the few-yards’ vantage of my foe; I draw my blade, come closer and I do the unspeakable. I do it because to eat my foe, and yes, my consequence, is to eat all of Hell and be done with it!
- I know it through unspoken thought. I know it gleaming in the moonlight and throbbing in the scorch of the sun. I know it in the indifference of all the masses. I know it in the grin of my beloved. I know it in the hate and the joy of my being. I know. I know that I am destined to reach and reach with no gain. But in the kernel of that perpetual failure, I am to win against the lot of sorry fucks.
- Soft be the streams and hard be the rocks. But the upright, the living, the breathing, the growing… let them be nothing. Let them be nothing to tell themselves apart in any cohesive way: because it is more than nothing to construe something, but does that something uphold the sweet nothing? Or weave suffering, loss and lonesome?
Contribution by Gordon Jonson