Monday, June 29, 2009

Instead of a Conclusion

The text below, "Instead of a Conclusion, appears as the last chapter in the first proper book (to my knowledge) about December's insurrection published in Greece. Although the translation from Greek to English, done by a wonderful comrade, has already set these words in a new motion, I can't help but feel a paternalistic urge to guide their further movement. Of course, words are like children, they'll go where they go despite anyone's futile wish, but this fact does nothing to quiet the reservations that come with posting "Instead of a Conclusion" to be read by the milieu in the States. More specifically, I worry as to whether its even worth presenting a text that celebrates barricades to readers that condemn their constructions in Chicago streets. In my eyes, what could only be worse is for "Instead of a Conclusion" to be looked at as an exotic applause to blockades, riots, and street fights only in places and lives far from our own. Gladly and on the other hand, there were those who neglected the banal criticism from the "anarcho-liberals" and erected barricades to for once impede the State's grip on their entire existence. Let be. For better or for worse, a split is inevitable. A split so that the tired discussion about whether or not to build barricades can be silenced like a drunk giving an inappropriate eulogy at a solemn funeral. A scission so that we get on with the important questions, refuse to consider the morality of barricades, and only correctly concern ourselves with how to make them taller, stronger, more terrible, so that metropolitan avenues can become as uncontrollable as an element of nature. So, while suppressing any false sense of guardianship, I send "Instead of a Conclusion" to only those who build barricades for the sake of barricades. Enjoy!

(the wonderful comrade reading the text in Greek)

Instead of a Conclusion

For if there is something to be won it is dignity, for if life has to be laughter and a laughter will bury them, then you have to create the conditions to laugh.

For burning souls should not comply to moulds, for we don't fit anymore within the limits of narrow fucking microcosms, for sickness lurks everywhere. We saw, we dreamt and lived feral yells, we blocked roads with barricades of craze and desire, we addressed to deaf ears numerous times, we bled with wild joy, we followed, we incarnated and created the wild dream and the experience (sometimes they don't differ from each other) of uprising, of this seductive goddess who haunts our heads for years now. Our necks that we risked, risk, and will risk... For there is nothing left to lose apart from self-respect, self-respect, which is tried, which is won and lost every hour and moment, every moment and second, with an action, with a glance, a consequence of clear and outright choice, which tries all the time to be better, more comprehensible, more dangerous... We sharpened knives that first hurt us when we judged ourselves inadequate. We extinguished our thirst with sea water a lot of times, knowing that in a few moments we would be more thirsty, sickly to some extent with an insatiable desire for clash, for revolt, for truth...

Let be, what counts is the derive in the oceans. Their waves raise and drop, crush, crash, and obliterate the castaways in a vortex. But the wave is us. The wild power that springs from the being of the liberated turns into a rough sea that will avenge with a rage that only an uncontrollable element of nature can have. It will avenge for centuries of coercion, it will extinguish kingdoms of exploitation in murky abysses, it will drown in blood the ones that have be drowned and then... Then it will relish, it will relish her dead, her jailed children living again, breathing again, getting lost in incredible dizzy color formations in her moist whirling and free embrace. Our sea is revolution, our insurgent sea is here, it always has been... SWIM...

- a comrade, July 5, 2005

Friday, June 19, 2009

Anarchist A. Kiriakopoulos To Be Released From Prison

Today, the good news came in that A. Kiriakopoulos along with three other insurgents held in state captivity since the December insurrection are scheduled to be released from Koridallos prison before the coming Monday. After a solidarity campaign that inspired dozens of attacks, the state relinquished the remand that held the prisoners for over six months without trial. The wave of actions over the past weeks shows that solidarity, concieved as the furtherance of the class clash with the state, can indeed free our imprisoned comrades without compromising our revolutionary principles.

In other news (I write this with the dryest of eyes: not a hint of saltwater to be found), an anti-terrorism police officer was shot around 20 times and killed last Wednesday in Athens. The police officer was attempting to protect a snitch who testified for the prosecution in the 2004 trial of a man the state claims was a member of the armed group ELA.

In what can be seen as nothing other than a thuggish act by a police gang with recently damaged egos, about 40 members of the newly formed police Delta Team attacked an occupied parking lot turned neighborhood park in the center of Athens. The swine arrested about 15 locals without warning or reason.

And so the struggle the continues...

Solidarity is the weapon of the people! (a greek anarchist protest slogan)

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Katerina Gogou (1940-1993)

There is little information in English on poet Katerian Gogou. She is also known for her work as an actress, usually playing the roles of a servant in the houses of the rich, but from what I understand, her words were the words of the movement.

Katerina Gogou: "May 25th"

One morning I will open the door
and I will go out in the streets
as I did yesterday.
And I won't be thinking about anything other than
just one piece of the father
and one piece of the sea
-those two pieces they didn't deprive me of-
and the city. The city which they transformed into a rotting corpse.
And our friends that are no more.
One morning I will open the door
straight into the fire
and I will enter as I did yesterday
shouting "fascists!!"
constructing barricades and throwing rocks
with a red banner
held high, shining in the sunbeams.
I will open the door
and it's time to tell you
-not that I am afraid-
but, see, I want to tell you that I didn't make it in time
and that you have to learn
not to be going out in the streets without weapons as I did
-because I didn't make it in time-
because then you will disappear as I disappeared
"like that" "in the void"
cracked into little pieces made
of sea, childhood years
and red banners.
One morning I will open the door
and I will be gone carrying the dream of the revolution
within the infinite loneliness of the paper-made barricades
bearing the label -do not believe them!-
Translated by G.Chalkiadakis

I want us to talk together in a coffee house
one where the doors are open
where there's no seaonly unemployed men
silence and dust lit by sunlight
- the sunlight in the brandy -
and the dust and cigarettes in our lungs
and let's not take precautions today, my friend,over our health
and don't give advice
about how I'm tossing it back
and how I'm wasting myself
and let the make-up, snot and tears
on my face
Just look calmly
at my nails, my hair and the years
which are dirtyand me
I don't give a damn about all that
They only care about the Party, for Christsake!
why the Party hasn't been fixed all these years
and you a friend. A real friend
just like Kazantzidis sings it
and the brandy's shit
and the contractor hasn't shown
there's a room above the coffee house
for those on the run
I'll let it all spill out at some point
I do that when I'm drunk - just to throw you -
to see you without your underpants, to see what you'll do
but you, you're not like the others
you'll get up and dance a request
...your hands took a birch rod and thrashed me . . .
and in your cupped hands you'll hold my brain
with love and care
it's ready to explode into a thousand pieces. It hurts.
And when
they come to tell you
that this is not
the time
or place
for such things
draw your stiletto and slash.
The Koemtzis brothers were right.

Translated From Greek by G.Chalkiadakis.