Anemic Attitude

How much is this?

Um, I think that one is $30.

Oh my God . . . I've bought something like this, SOOOOO many times in the past.

Oh, huh huh huh.

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Lately, I've been mindful of my habits. I've greeted ritual with the same rigorous adroitness the demure Agent Moulder employs in the Pacific Northwest when facing unexplained phenomena: frantic research; sleepy-eyed rumination; lack of dossier; advocate of brevity; unorthodox trust and compassion with the locals; arriving just at the last moment to catch a glimpse of the paranormal/supernatural. In the end, I lose sight, and find myself returned to the beginning.

I try to be creative as I approach my ritualized day, searching for alternatives instead of relying on convention. I find myself, just as concerns of aliens or werewolves — ghastly anomalies — often elude our progress-driven culture, without total appreciation for commitment to an alternative. I catch a glimpse, the feeling dissipates, and I am done. I recognize the ritual, and then cannibalize it for spare parts to fashion a new reality. The ritual of my daily habits is incorporated into the virtual language of an altered environment. The ritual is broken, and I unload the stress of completing that ritual through the play of new permutations sourced from an exceedingly ambiguous provenance. Hapless repetition of behavior, schemes of procrastination, falling head first into a pile of dirty laundry — I am consumed from inside only to be regurgitated out onto the world. Less an implosion of the soul than vacuumed spirit. Too much salt, sugar, fat, grease, alcohol, smoke, negligence, body odor, matted hair, anemic attitude.

Into oblivion, obliterated and obtuse, witness the apotheosis of consumption. I refuse to believe in such worship of devalued signs, though ironically, perhaps this is a sign of the times; emotional refusal in tandem with willful participation. Compulsory without force, for the tether extends from deep inside the machine of society into us all. I do not fight systematic participation, only dread the day when I no longer have the comforts of forced recreation. My muscle become inflamed with tension; I am pained by the dead things consumed hours earlier. Yet I am convinced things are normal, and I have plenty of time to wait for an epiphany. Burgess Meredith haunts an opium den, as I haunt a neglected present.

"To go on waiting is madness."

Some excerpts from the closing chapter "Insurrection" of The Invisible Committee's The Coming Insurrection

-In a country like France, where radioactive clouds stop at the border and where we aren't afraid to build a cancer research center on the former site of a nitrogen fertilizer factory that has been condemned by the EU'S industrial safety agency, we should count less on “natural” crises than on social ones. It is usually up to the social movements to interrupt the normal course of the disaster.

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-An assembly is not a place for decision, but for talk, for free speech exercised without a goal.

-A nightmare of little pretenders to power confronting each other: elections. It is not a “general assembly” so much as bourgeois theatrics.

-Foil temptation of hegemony...constantly renewing itself, decisions crystallize organically from a collective presence, and opinion naturally take hold of the group assembly.

-Do not decide on actions; it is not “the action in question should govern the assembly's agenda." No not contract action to specialists; not abandon group action for sake of control and security.

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-Mandated specialists are hindered in there actions, but are not hindered to deceive their “bosses.”

-Action gives rise to a broader form, not having a specific form attached to it.

-Circulate shared knowledge: individual reconnaissance...info organized into public archives (or forums)

-Decisions will occur gradually, not made, or forced.

More detailed overlook of the text.