Prolle Stroll

By Anonymous

Entry 7582

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From: holdoffhunger [id: 1]
(holdoffhunger@gmail.com)

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Untitled Anarchism Prolle Stroll

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Those Without Mouths Still Have Eyes and Ears, they are Anonymous

Those who cannot be identified are classified as anonymous. Anonymity describes situations where the acting person's identity is unknown. Some writers have argued that namelessness, though technically correct, does not capture what is more centrally at stake in contexts of anonymity. The important idea here is that a person be non-identifiable, unreachable, or untrackable. Anonymity is seen as a technique, or a way of realizing, a certain other values, such as privacy, or liberty. Over the past few years, anonymity tools used on the dark web by criminals and malicious users have drastically altered the ability of law enforcement to use conventional surveillance techniques. An important example for anonymity being not only protected, but enforced by law is the vote in free elections. In many other situations (like conversation between strangers, buying some product or service in a shop), anonymity is traditionally accepted as natural. There are also various... (From: RevoltLib.com and Wikipedia.org.)


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Prolle Stroll

Tonight was the night we fought. Nothing could stop us. We are proles on our stroll. Fighting our conditions. we are workers-in-combat. Rent signs, kicked. Garbage, in the street. The moment we drank John Zerzans cum was the same moment-in-time that we became human again. We are the barbarians at the gates of capitalist hell. Destroying the world again and again.

The forms-of-life that make possible the transformation of everything took the streets once again tonight. Tonight was our night. The night we doing being like always. The totality of our existance became nothing more than a moneky on our collective backs as proles, which we threw off like bottles broken in front of the precinct. Tonight was a prole stroll. Its the new form by which we destroy the world as it is. Nothing will stop a crew of 60 something proles on their stroll. Nothing can get me higher than the rush of kicking a fucking rent sign underneath a stupid truck. Communism prevailed once again. We share the feeling of riot with our neighbors whom joyfully joined in as we went besererk. The ghost of lenin showed his face as he warned: "Don't fuck with time". The proles on their strol only respond with, "we detroy time like eggs under out collective boots".

We swing on the monkey bars of bio-politics, and thus make it irelevant, like pizza (social contruct). We got the phone call, "Agamben and Heidegger and are rioting in the park and need solidarity". We respond like hawks on a hunt. Vultures looking for cracks in the moral fabrics of society to rip and tear at. We arrive. We destroy. We prole it the fuck up. We move past our Species-being and finally achieve Species-Blingin, at least for a couple hours. The cops arrive, they are destroyed. They are nothing and they can do nothing when proles begin to stroll. In our everyday lives, we walk, we run, we talk, we buy, but we are too afraid to stroll. This was different. To stroll is to achieve your Species-Blingin and negate Crimethinc. When we negate crimethinc, we negate our being-as-such. We Stroll and chant "time is crimethinc" and "communism for cougars", and "green capitalism is for sissies".

Garbage lay in our wake as good citizens yell and try to argue. They recieve nothing more than the gift of our violence. We kcik them in the hats. They fall hard. We take the hats. They try to be Lenin. Try again. Fucker. We desire nothing more thn the proliferation of infoshops and then their destructoin. We build them and then destroy them like our stupid lives. We build we build we build, and then we burn burn burn. Crimethinc is our conditions. We must negate it as such. Tonight we felt the reality of the war-machine channel through our arms and legs as we pushed dumpsters onto the sidewalks and streets, stopping the flow of stupidity and commodaties. Druken frat boyz cant walk down this sidewalk without having to walk around a flaming dumpster or two. Same with trucks and cars. Feel our wrath. People remark "sweet black eye bitch" which we respond to with black eyes to them.

We are the most prole of animals, humans. We will sick our mind dogs on cops and local stores alike. And while bossy f. emails amazon.com, we roam the street looking for trouble and garbage to throw in the street. This is all we desire. Mo' Garbagio. Add some matches, and you got rev. solidarity. We realized that our collective forms-of-life cannot create a real challenge to what capitalism offers(beef jerky), but that we can at least throw garbage in the street some more which is a whole lot of fun.

Identity politics is not a molitov cocktail. It is the opposite, a empty milk jug. We are not looking for some stupid jug to fill with water. We want more garbage. Keep throwin shit away proles. Dont get tricked. We dont need empty jugs. We need the prole cocktail (you know!). Work never. Garbage always. Love it love it.

Love,
Proles on da strollz

From : TheAnarchistLibrary.org

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January 30, 2021; 5:02:36 PM (UTC)
Added to http://revoltlib.com.

An icon of a red pin for a bulletin board.
January 7, 2022; 10:54:31 AM (UTC)
Updated on http://revoltlib.com.

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