Just another protestsong
(ännu en gammal text från mina mer dystra stunder som "revolutionär". Observera det något komplicerade spänningsförhållandet mellan immanens och transcendens).
Capitalism has condemned me to a life of boredom. A lifeless image they call reality. I fight to get at least one last breath of fresh air, locked as I am behind these bars of hierarchy and rationality. But all I get is the pollution from their economy blackening my lungs. Stealing my creativity and dying my passions grey to fit just another productivity scheme.
Love! Love will set us free! is a desperate cry that slowly dies out into the oblivion of capitalist nothingness. Love is born dead, choked by the real subsumption of capital, recuperated and incorporated into the service of the spectacle as affective work.
Love is conformistic, not subversive. It creates the phantasmagoria of something Else, untouched by capitals need for (re)production and therefore disguising the fact that everything we do exist under the cold, aegis-gaze of the dollarsign. (Thus lending the bourgeois a hand). Capitalism is not a fat, rich man in a suit. It's a system, a class-relation, that penetrates and even creates us all. A biopolitical production just waiting to be smashed.
So, immanence is the keyword in every revolutionary’s vocabulary.
Resistance does’n’t spring from some transcendental areas (love, sexuality etc.) like a mythic fountain of youth but it lies in the realm of the spectacle. Everything within the spectacle is spectacular, and therefore, resistance is everywhere but also nowhere. You can find this immanent resistance in the factories, in the streets, in the malls and in our very homes.
Sometimes this resistance burst into open rebellion and a situation is thus created. A situation that open up new horizons of possibilities which results in that what was once considered regular and safe falls into question and the feeling that anything could happen spreads like a beautiful, uncontrolled firestorm that engulf the status quo so that we can build a new world in its ashes.
Capitalism has condemned me to a life of boredom. A lifeless image they call reality. I fight to get at least one last breath of fresh air, locked as I am behind these bars of hierarchy and rationality. But all I get is the pollution from their economy blackening my lungs. Stealing my creativity and dying my passions grey to fit just another productivity scheme.
Love! Love will set us free! is a desperate cry that slowly dies out into the oblivion of capitalist nothingness. Love is born dead, choked by the real subsumption of capital, recuperated and incorporated into the service of the spectacle as affective work.
Love is conformistic, not subversive. It creates the phantasmagoria of something Else, untouched by capitals need for (re)production and therefore disguising the fact that everything we do exist under the cold, aegis-gaze of the dollarsign. (Thus lending the bourgeois a hand). Capitalism is not a fat, rich man in a suit. It's a system, a class-relation, that penetrates and even creates us all. A biopolitical production just waiting to be smashed.
So, immanence is the keyword in every revolutionary’s vocabulary.
Resistance does’n’t spring from some transcendental areas (love, sexuality etc.) like a mythic fountain of youth but it lies in the realm of the spectacle. Everything within the spectacle is spectacular, and therefore, resistance is everywhere but also nowhere. You can find this immanent resistance in the factories, in the streets, in the malls and in our very homes.
Sometimes this resistance burst into open rebellion and a situation is thus created. A situation that open up new horizons of possibilities which results in that what was once considered regular and safe falls into question and the feeling that anything could happen spreads like a beautiful, uncontrolled firestorm that engulf the status quo so that we can build a new world in its ashes.
posted by adhdknark at 1:16 AM
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