Monday, 2 March 2020

I Am The Crowd.


       Mass protests started in Chile in October 2019, the public rage carried it forward to an insurrection, as banks, metro stations, police stations, petrol station etc. were torched, shops looted and set on fire. The states response was savage, brutal and persistent, at least 31 people died, thousands were injured and tens of thousands arrested. The new year saw a lull, but it appears that the people's anger is rising again, with protests increasing in regional cities including Valparaiso and Antofagasta. Also in Santiago Square, which was the focal point of last year’s protests saw another large demonstration.  

       The anger and the problems of the people have not been resolved, the fire still burns, and will continue to burn until the people find justice, freedom and peace, which can only be found outside the economic system of capitalism. 

The following from 325:

Letter to a Chilean about the current situation (IIIsytem of capitalism.and last)’ by Gustavo Rodriguez
—To Joaquín García Chanks and Marcelo Villarroel Sepúlveda, comrades and co-conspirators.
       “Let’s continue the assault on the existent with all means, undeterred by those who would silence us with weapons from the stockpile of reaction, be they the kick of the democratic jackboot, the empty chatter of opinion or the siren calls of the candy men of hope.”
Jean Weir; Tame words from a wild heart.
     “Whomever is determined to carry out their action is not a brave person, they are simply someone who has clarified their ideas, who has realized the futility of striving to play the role assigned to them by Capital. They are aware, and attack with cold determination. And in doing so they realize themselves as a human being. They realize themselves in pleasure. The kingdom of death disappears before their eyes.”
Alfredo Maria Bonanno; Selected Texts.
       “Let us put a stop to the conjuring tricks of dialectics. The exploited are not carriers of any positive project, be it even the classless society … Capital is their only community. They can only escape by destroying everything that makes them exploited.”
At Daggers Drawn
      When history is written – with capital letters, the one that the victors have always written and will write – about the generalized insurrection in Chile at the end of the first decade of the 21st century, it will have to be read with extreme meticulousness, since it will be reflected in the supposed motivations of the “crisis” that produced the revolt.
      Once again, the economic analysis will prevail – with emphasis on “the obscenity of misery” that has caused that uncertain denomination they call “Neo-Liberalism” – and, the poor negotiating capacity of a superb government that failed to meet popular demands and chose for the continuity of a regime of corruption and impunity, a (constitutional) heir of one of the bloodiest fascist dictatorships in the Americas.
      However, nothing will be recorded of that anonymous power that shaped the anger of despair, of the nihilistic actions that transformed into a sweeping energy which disrupted normality whilst mercilessly attacking the reality that oppresses us.
      This power will be made invisible (at best) and / or, reduced to a mob of “anarchist and lumpen elements, in addition to groups allied to drug traffickers to unleash looting and vandalism”(1), and stifled in the peaceful condition of “Legitimate” protests and the transcendental importance of the new constitutional fetishes as a legal guarantor of “The needs of the People”.
Read the full article HERE: 

I Am The Crowd.

I am the crowd
I swim in the quagmire of poverty
its hooks, its barbs, tear at my flesh
rupture my dreams,
I hold my breath for centuries
hoping to break through, gasp pure air.
Through the murky mire
I see bright things, shiny things, sparkle
I see women in fine dresses, men in silk shirts.
I ask myself,
why do I swim in this cesspool?
I want the light and warmth of rectitude
to caress my labouring body,
seeds of my dreams to bloom
like wild flowers in a meadow.
One day, I will use my boundless strength
to haul this torn, battered being
out of the morass
onto the warm grassy bank,
when I do;
woe betide you, women in fine dresses
woe betide you mister in your fine silk shirt
should you ever try to get in my way,
for I am the strength of the world,
I am the crowd.

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