The new society established, we will return to its margins to live our lives dangerously as noble criminals and audacious sinners! Because the anarchist individualist still means eternal renewal in the field of art, thought and action. Anarchist individualism still means eternal revolt against eternal sorrow, the eternal search for new springs of life, joy and beauty. And we will still be such in Anarchy.
— Renzo Novatore, Anarchist Individualism in the Social Revolution, 1919
Art, thought and action’s renewal, their consistent evolution out of static orthodoxy, rests on the will of the living to depose the cruel conservatism of the ruling death cult, to incinerate their every spore thereafter.
Those who presently annul the possibilities of the body moved by the free spirit, instead declaring that the body will work and be without spirit, shall feel the counter-cruelty, the amplified inertia of all they have struck us with. Let them be cruel now — ours will be ten, a hundredfold.
There is no sooner or later about it.
Our blood is black with negative impulse.
Our minds are throbbing with intellectual armament.
We are renewal. We are anarchy.
But we shall never know the cleansing rays of sunlight until the smog of order is cleared forcefully. Until the instinct of the soul is audaciously lifted above the stale moralism of all who pursue authority over others.
Until the most sacred is attacked, erased and prevented from ever being made again.
Until the sacred is no longer conceived of.
Until the real lives that create useful or enlivening matter exceed the corpse of the sacred and realize their own uniqueness.
Speak nothing of “order—” to be ordered is the piecemeal death. To take on being ordered — or giving orders — as one’s noble calling in life is the certain surrender worse than any death.
To worship an orderly existence is to celebrate sorrow, limitation and retrograde ideals murdering joy. Such well-regarded delusions of a certain order being inevitable, calling everything with vibrancy a delusion!
What has one’s precious order brought!? Poisoned salmon, undrinkable streams, gutted mountains, concrete drowning everything . . .
Such preoccupation with damming the rivers, clearing the forests, saving the jobs — all for your bosses’ profit! Or, on the other hand, all for socialism! The sacred new order! All for a vocally “progressive” yet truthfully conservative idea of “the society to-be,” of “the good economy,” of “the exalted collective.”
How often has the ruling class — socialist or capitalist — envisioned their new panopticons, their new subjects, their new territory. Every generation sees a new frontier for the rich or the politburo to conquer, brutalize and exploit.
How often has the intrusive mass of idiots called “The People” approved and encouraged further encroachments on the crevices of breathing room.
Nobody asked for these things. They asked only for what they were told is all that matters: One’s right to be left alone in the liberalism that allows only a passive life unconcerned with death encroaching on all joy.
Soon that tepid deal will come loose; the disposable luxuries will cost more, the power will go out, the fires will be ignited, and it will be time.
It will be time to make yourself sufficient for yourself, to become a destructive monster for your own selfish want. In selfish intercourse, we find something to pursue together — without any sacred togetherness.
We meet them in the fields, in the hollers. We ready our rifles, secure our perches, plant ourselves. But we do not fight fair. Fairness given to those who have only known unfair advantage is giving oneself defeat.
We become truly ungovernable.
We raise ourselves up as lives larger than the mountains.
Our deeds as victors and martyrs ring louder than any sorry drivel at any desperate podium.
Our lives are now. What seeks to end them is rule. What shall move us?
There is no Doctrine of Renewal in me or any anarchist who knows what I mean; this would only be a more spiritual progressivism. Our renewal is done not for the satisfaction of any necessity, but by a will to seize joy.
It is done by every child of horrid parents (slave masters,) it is done by every student of stuffy, rigid instructors, it is done by every fem and gender non-conforming person in their constant confrontation with patriarchy and so-called “normality,” it is done by every organism pushing against all crushing weight.
Our renewal is one of spaces presently occupied by unhelpful stuff made open to those thoughtful, precious lives who mean only positive development for themselves and negative transformation of society into ash — the greatest creation of new space!
Reader, let the paradigm of Now be your testbed in which experiments with life can breach and fracture the enclosures that disallow growth in all important fields of living and creating.
When we assert our living contents, when we mind the present world with creative wit, conspiring in ourselves as individuals, melding ideas with those in whom substance is found — life, joy and beauty will be grown and harvested at the intersections of our abodes, in the gathering spaces of wholly untamed lives.
That is our renewal. A life of adaptability and ease, a life of space and fresh air, a life of richness and friendly intercourse.
Contribution by Wulfinna