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.

Marrowed Drunkening

Despair seems to be the only appropriate response to the palpable meaninglessness of the past and future life.

Any other attitude belongs solely to intoxication- alcoholic, anxious, or religious. Man is a creature of nothingness and can only confront his inconceivable tribulations -these few and limited years of being- by getting himself dead drunk.(Tournier)

Secret Piercing Surveillance

My secrets are what I can control, your glance kills all I control- your gaze pierces my secret. - Daniel Dennett- on video surveillance society

Forced Anonymity.

A man walks into a bar and says:
Take my wife--please.
So you do.
You take her out into the rain and you fall in love with her
and she leaves you and you’re desolate.
You’re on your back in your undershirt, a broken man
on an ugly bedspread, staring at the water stains
on the ceiling.
And you can hear the man in the apartment above you
taking off his shoes.
You hear the first boot hit the floor and you’re looking up,
you’re waiting
because you thought it would follow, you thought there would be
some logic, perhaps, something to pull it all together
but here we are in the weeds again,
here we are
in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn’t make sense.
And then the second boot falls.
And then a third, a fourth, a fifth.

A man walks into a bar and says:
Take my wife--please.
But you take him instead.
You take him home, and you make him a cheese sandwich,
and you try to get his shoes off, but he kicks you
and he keeps kicking you.
You swallow a bottle of sleeping pills but they don’t work.
Boots continue to fall to the floori
n the apartment above you.
You go to work the next day pretending nothing happened.
Your co-workers ask
if everything’s okay and you tell them
you’re just tired.
And you’re trying to smile. And they’re trying to smile.

A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says:
Make it a double.
A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says:
Walk a mile in my shoes.
A man walks into a convenience store, still you, saying:
I only wanted something simple, something generic...
But the clerk tells you to buy something or get out.
A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river
but then he’s still left
with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away
but then he’s still left with his hands.

On Words,

Some Of It Is All There

I.

I am in the big green park which is green again and it is spring and I love
you and the park and the red birds in it. When you have birds in you
they are red and when it rains they eat enough for several years. Worms
become an offering to the sidewalks, or perhaps it is a performance,
two boys playing basketball, but it is really you and me who are
playing basketball but you are taller so you always win unless you let me
have the last word or one of yours. I would prefer that. Red birds are
positioning themselves in the field. They are coming closer and by the time
they get here, I’m in my room looking through all my things wondering
where you are. How many charges we’re going to get. I think you made the wind
blow harder because I hear something. If we get far enough south
we could grow new tongues, we could regard each other newly. When I mail this
it will contain paper and ink and those will make up a rendering of my house
just as they also make up certain declarations. I am not keeping anything
secret.Your night is becoming my morning and if we keep this up
we could be all the time in sunlight and even the weather wouldn’t bother us.


II.

I am in the big green park which is green again and it is spring and I love
where you are. How many charges do we get? You made the wind
have the last word or one of yours. I would prefer that red birds are
playing basketball but you are taller. So you always win unless you let me
become an offering to the sidewalks, or perhaps a performance,
a containment of paper and ink. Make-up, a rendering of my house,
which is red. When it rains they eat enough for several years. Worms have
you and the park and the red birds in it.When birds are in you they are
two boys playing basketball but it is really you and me who are
positioning themselves in the field. We are coming closer and by the time
we grow new tongues, we regard each other newly. When I mail this
secret, your night is becoming my morning and we keep
blowing harder because I hear something. If we get far enough south,
we could be all the time in sunlight and even the weather wouldn’t bother us.
But it arrives, and I’m in my room looking through all my things. I wonder
if it makes certain declarations, weather. I am not keeping anything.


III.

We could be all the time in sunlight and even the weather wouldn’t bother us.
You and the park and the red birds in it.When you have birds in you they are
an offering to the sidewalks, or perhaps a performance,
positions in the field. They are coming closer and by the time

I am in the big green park which is green again, it is spring and I love
playing basketball but you are taller so you always win unless you let me.
Blow harder because I hear something. If we get far enough south,
red and when it rains they eat enough for several years. Worms address
two boys playing basketball but it is really you and me who are
there, and we are getting charged. How many times have you made the wind
arrive? I’m in my room looking through all my things, wondering
how to make certain declarations like I am not keeping anything,
we could grow new tongues, we could regard each other newly. When I mail this,
please have the last word or one of yours. I would prefer that. Red birds are
secret. Your night is becoming my morning and if we keep this up
we will contain paper and ink. Those will make up a rendering of my house.


IV.

Have the last word: it’s one of yours. I would prefer that red birds are
in the big green park which is green again and it is spring and I love
containing paper and ink: those make up a rendering of my house
if we can be all the time in sunlight. Even the weather wouldn’t bother
two boys playing basketball but it is really you and me who are
new tongues: we can regard each other newly when I mail this.
Blow harder because I hear something. If we get far enough south,
(secret: your night is becoming my morning) and if we keep this up,
(red) and when it rains. They eat enough for several years, worms,
just as they also make up certain declarations. I am not keeping anything
in the field. They are coming closer and by the time positions
arrive, I’m in my room looking through all my things wondering,
offering. The sidewalks are performing.
Where are you? And how. You are wind-charged,
the park, the red birds in it.When you have birds in you they
play basketball.You are taller so you always win. Unless you let me.
thank you very much to -Mary Austin Speaker