I Have Nothing To Say And I Am Saying It

"Communication guerrillas do not intend to occupy, interrupt or destroy the dominant channels of communication, but to detour and subvert the messages transported."
-Mr. Luther Blissett*

This means not to play as innocent actors but to imitate spectacle and its deceptions "...against a symbolic order of Western Capitalist societies which is built around discourses of rationality and rational conduct. Guerrilla communication relies on the powerful possibility of expressing a fundamental critique of power through the non-verbal, paradoxical, or mythical."
-Sir Luther Blissett, GGA, PPJD, ACS*

Our roles in the spectacle make us complicit in the crimes of the structures of power, and naivete will not be permitted us as an alibi.

Every paper we push in our towers of exploitative commercial enterprise --and let us be honest, all commercial enterprise is necessarily the exploitation of the less powerful-- is evidence of our complicity. There will one day, no longer be an ear for Eichmann.
-The Honorable, Judge Luther Blissett,(MotherFucker)*

This change from within, this clandestine experience must never be one of destruction, for nothing will replace the structures of explotation and tyranny, but more exploitation and tyranny.
-Fra. Luther Blissett, Ordet of the Iscariot Consternation*

*Playing the part of Iago this evening will be

L.S.-1899-1973 aka The Man With The Ears of the Gods.
[ +SPOLIER ALERT- the Prince never actually dies in the end ]

The change must not be a cancer, but a song.
The change must come from the Army of the Poem.
It is here -nestled in the middle of the text- where the true message of this new politic will be hidden (see Iago):


--Catullus’ # 8
Miser Catulle, desinas ineptire,
et quod uides perisse perditum ducas,
fulsere quondam can didi tibi soles,
cum uentitabas quo pella ducebat
amata nobis quantum amabitur nulla.
ibi illa multa tum iocasa fiebant,
quae tu uolebas nec puella nolebat.
fulsere uere candidi tibi soles.
nunc iam illa non uolt: tu quoque inpotens noli,

nec quae fugit sectare, nec miser uiue,
sed obstinata mente perfer, obdura.
uale, puella. iam Catullus obdurat,
nec te requiret nec rogabit inuitam.

at tu dolebis, cum rogaberis nulla.
scelesta, vae te, quaetibi mnaet uita?
quis nunc te adibit? cui uideberis bella?
quem nunc amabis? cuius esse diceris?
quem basiabis? cui labella mordebis?
at tu, Cattule, destinatus obdura.

For Realz!

Now for those Anglicized, yet not Latinized-
--Catullus' #8 (translated English)
you feel bad, Catullus, but quit acting stupid
and face facts. what's lost is lost.
you had yourself some sunny days for a while,
just going wherever she led you,
no girl ever got the loving you gave her.
a lot of laughs and good times they were too,
anything you wanted she never said no,
yes, those were some sunny days alright.
but she doesn't want you now, so forget her.
don't chase her around, making yourself miserable,
make your mind up it's over, and stick to it.
goodbye my girl. you heard Catullus, he's had it.
he doesn't need you, he won't bother you anymore.

you'll feel sorry though when nobody wants you.
too bad, bitch! what are you going to do now?
who'll visit you? who'll think you're beautiful?
who will you love? whose girl will they call you?
who else will you kiss and bite on his lips?
but you, Catullus, remember: it's finished.