Smash civ!

Do you feel enslaved? Trapped? Threatened?

You probably are. It's not a feeling that comes from nowhere. Really, it's the most un-natural feeling in the world. It's something humans aren't used to, as it has only really been around for the past 8,000-10,000 years (of course, oppression existed before that, but it fundamentally changed after that moment in history). What happened? Civilization happened. 

We never were meant to be collected like this and taught to perform a certain job. We weren't meant to maneuver ourselves between power structures and try to fit in within them. It makes us feel unbearable weight on our shoulders, drags us down, until we finally break, and either go postal or just die.

Humans are as incompatible with civilization as freedom is with totalitarianism. Without civilization we could not have structures that oppress minorities of all sorts, we could not have mass-oppression.

Iconoclasts, lets us destroy civilization!

On the rejection of proper english

It's not news I can't spell that well, nor do I have that good of grammar. Granted my ability has grown since being a writer but still, it's pretty narly. I am so sick of hearing though that someone needs to have mastered english to be taken seriously? Like really yo?

Real talk, that's some bullshit. The english language is the second, if not, the most complicated language ever! Lets not forget it's grounded within colonialism and other bullshit. Why is it we think we must have mastered it to preach?

We now have a tumblr!

Go to lumpen-prole-distro.tumblr.com and check it out! Same shit will be on here though but now you can reblog our stuff and be all like "yeah look at these insurrectionary homies they're cool as fuck"

or not....

The poor mans song: A nightmare come true.

Our tale begins in a city. loud and obnoxious our hero is a poor man. He used to love and be loved now, today, that all has changed. Lets start from the beginning though.

The story goes like this: We got the money, we got the guns. Everyone gets in the van and is told to not deviate from the plan. This is it the time is near. His heart beats as fast as a fox running through the forest after a rabbit. His prey nearing and his heart beating ever faster to be able to eat. He is ready to sing the poor mans song. They jump out of the van and charge in quick. 4 of them, all poor men singing the poor mans song. They shout at everyone to get down. Nobody knows who they are, oh the joys of mask. They run to the teller to find the manager. 2 of them stand gaurd to make sure nobody tries anything. That's when silence came.

Silence then sirens!

It all goes down like in his night mare the night before. This is it things are over, but do not worry reader. This is not the end of our heroes fate. This is only the beginning. He'll do all he can to keep his nose clean. Even if it means killing a cop or 2. Bang, bang! The noise of gunshots echoes through the bank. These men were going to become rich even if it meant death! They keep shotting while everyone insides scream, though our heroines are not concerned about them. The bank vault finally opens. Time to get rich he screams in joy.

But lets go back to the beginning of our tale. For our hero as stated, was a poor man. Living from paycheck to paycheck, only seeing his daughter 5 minutes before she has to go to bed. His wife angry that he can't bring in enough cash. He skips meals for his daughter and wife to eat, they are all he cares about. He will do anything to support them but he realizes that he cannot in his current state of work.

That's when his friend approaches him. Want to be a rich man? he asked. Just follow the plan and we will be good. Of course john accepts. He sings the poor man song, and when your singing that song there is no right or wrong.

It all happened so fast. As they were in the vault putting the money in the bags one of the four has been shot in the head. The police are not playing any games today. Our heroines do not freak out thought. They are skin deep, watching their own necks. Each of them understand they will do whatever it takes to keep their nose clean. As I said, right and wrong means nothing when your singing that poor mans song.

They finished packing their bags full of cash. They needed to leave. Another one of them is shot and killed.  2 left. They understand play time is over. Our hero grabs a random man and holds him at gunpoint. He needs to get to the van. Ski mask? check Sawn off? check. Guilty concious and a fear of death? check. Our other member steps out first and is immediatly shot dead. This is it. There is no going back. It is do or die! He Opens the doors. Time has slowed down. His daughter and wife are the last thing he thought about

BANG BANG BANG

That is the end of our heroines tale. He took drastic measure for those he loved most, because it was all he could do. He didn't want to be there, he didn;t want to be near but capitalism forced it's hand. life or death is the name of the game. What was the point of this story? Well right and wrong is thrown out the window when your singing the poor man's song.

If you notice, you can donate to us!

Hey folks, I am happy to announce that I have solved the internet and guess what, you can finally donate to us now! We want to pump out zines and stuff and start publishing but being 2 broke teenagers ya know, it's kinda hard to do that so with your help, and a bit of love, we can make that dream a reality!

Q: How much can I donate?

A: As much as you want!

Q: Where would this money go to?

A: First thing first is we need a printer, paper, ink cartridges, and the like. Eventually the money will go towards bail bonds and other neccescities anarchist need. We haven't figured EVERYTHING out but right now our primary goal is to get a printer and a press running.

Q: Why bail bonds in the future?

A: Fuck rotting in jail, lets get comrades out while we can and give them some freedom.

Q: Will I be able to read any of your zines?

A: Of course! All zines published by us will also be put on this blog for folks who live outside of the Pacific North West.

Q: Would the money I donate ever be used for personal reasons?

A: Only when it's en emergency like say if one of us went to the hospital, or couldn't afford something they materially need for survival. That's it, other wise it all goes to the distro!

Q: Are there any fees when I donate?

A: Yes, $0.30 (USD) and 1.9% - 2.9% will be deducted from the amount you donate so we ask everyone to donate at least $1.00 so donations actually go through and such.

Q: Do you take any currency?

A: We only take USD but that's the great thing about online donations, currency converting happens anyways!

We thank you if you can donate, and if you can't that's totally chill. Have a happy friday folks!

If you have something to say, say it

We've gotten a couple funny comments "critiquing" this blog. Granted I laughed because they were from leftist BUT, none the less useful. We encourage commenting by anyone. Seriously if you have something to say, say it. Don't think you must have the best critique or theory ever, because that's stupid. So please comment if you feel the need to do so!

Military Recruitment In Schools: A call to action

I don't need to state why military recruitment centers shouldn't ya know operate within schools but I am going to anyways because I feel like it.

IMPERIALISM FUCKING SUCKS AND SO MUCH OTHER FUCKED UP SHIT HAPPENS IN THE MILITARY FUCK ALL THAT NOISE

Okay now we got that out of the way this is a call to action. This shit should NOT be tolerated by anarchist. We am not proposing we start a campaign nor a mass movement around this, though we are not against that either. Do what you feel you need to do to combat this disgusting propaganda and lies. Wether it be tabling against military recruitment around highschools, or organizing walk outs, or opt out campaigns. Even going and smashing the fuck out of a military office. Seriously, do SOMETHING, but get shit done.

We are willing to coloaborate with other youth affinity groups and even organizations but our self int rest do not lie in campaigns or mass movements currently. If you want to work with us please email us at lumpenprolelife@gmail.com We are willing to coloaborate with liberals and the like

Please do something though. Every youth that goes in this fucked up system is chewed up and spit back out. Enough of that!

                                                                                                     - lumpenprolelife distro

My Beginnings in Anarchism

I was at a protest, much like Cracklemore, on November 3rd in 2012.

Austerity vs. Solidarity.

In fact, Cracklemore was there, with me.

It was my first protest that really counted, but for some reason I had elected myself to be on a flag banner team with my "Comrades" from the Portland Student Union, and Cracklemore. None of that matters though, until we encountered the police.

Everything was strangely silent, until I noticed the noise of aerosol cans, and suddenly, one lone person yells... "Pepperspray!"

That words is one of the most pivotal moments of my life. The world seemed to explode. There was screaming, confusion, and anger. I managed to put my face in my shirt like a turtle, but as soon as I came out, I was hit by a spritz of pepperspray. And I noticed something- I was alone. Cracklemore had to be removed as they were sprayed terribly. My "comrades" had all run, or they were crawling on the ground, in pain, crying, begging for help.

Suddenly an officer ran up to me, and raised his baton. I prepared myself for a blow that would never come. Why it didn't, I will never know.

Later I found out from combined videos that I stood still for around five minutes.

After that five, I was yelling and screaming.

I then realized there was something horribly right about what I was doing.

Then, later, when I saw the pictures of my comrade, Cracklemore, being sprayed and hit, I knew what I was doing right: I was resisting. I knew Cracklemore knew something I didn't, and because of that, I knew that anarchism was what lead me on that march. Since then, I have not looked back.

I am an anarchist because of Cracklemore. The compassion they showed, the bravery they demonstrated, were all testaments to the true power behind the belief in anarchism- that we will risk everything to fight for our freedom.

If the price for freedom is our lives, so be it.

Military mini-rant

So, I had an argument with a liberal today regarding the military. It was a very interesting look for me into how a liberal views the recruitment strategies used by the military.

She kept saying "but they join consentually".

I think she doesn't understand what consent is. You see, when the recruiters lie, that removes your ability to give proper consent. When they say that they'll give you options after you're out, then they are lying.

I needed to get that rage out.

-Echo

All we have is hope.

Without hope, we having nothing.

Hope is passion

Hope is freedom

Hope lets us grasp death by the throat

And loudly proclaim survival

Hope forces death to last with us.

Without hope, there is only death.

How I got here: A short tale about teenage rebellion

Im feeling euphoric tonight. With against me! playing in the background I cannot help but to think of how I got to where im at. Never once did I suspect I would be here, writing this piece. Never once did I think I would be an enemy of the state, of capitalism, of the current social order. growing up in a poor neighborhood I thought I would grow up and be someone, a CEO maybe, something. It all changed in 7th grade. WHen I gained the understanding that I will go nowhere, that because of how I was born, and my living situation. I could not escape.

It all changed though one night. Febuary 6th 2012. For folks in portland, you all know what night I am talking about. The Fuck The Police march. That night changed my life.

It all started with me meeting my friend, I'll call him david. We met up before hand at the church close by. We talked and decided to get going.We heard about this march. We knew it wasn't hosted by occupy portland, but by anarchist. It was exciting! I heard of these anarchist, because I was one. I was, and still am, a baby anarchist. My ideals at the time were weak and pretentious, but I didn't care. Adrenaline was rushing!

We knew we were close to the march when we ran into a whole squad of motorcycle cops. They were heading to the same place as we. A helicopter was also above and that's how we found the march. I was so excited! We approached the march and put on our anarchist attire, AKA, blocced up. I had such a shitty mask and general bloc it was horrible. I still laugh at myself. A black bandanna and a beanie. Good lord was I an idiot but who cares? This was a night of rebellion!

People were shouting "All cops are bastards ACAB!" and it roared! Oh how my teenage angst came through that night. That's when everything changed. The marched approached a yuppie bloc on belmont and I saw someone run up to a window. Looking back it's as if everything slowed down. SMASH SMASH SMASH! Hearing the glass shatter as the person ran away from the scene of the "crime" Hearing the liberals shout "OH MY GOD!" and hearing the march roar with praise. I only thought one thing. THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME. That person gave no fucks, and decided to take a swift individual action!

The march continued on. Some folks ran up to a dumpster to drag it into the street. I did not think that night, just acted. I ran up with them and helped them out. That's when a tall white liberal dude tackled me and started punching me. He was literally yelling "Non violence only man!" as he punched my face several times. How ironic was he?

After some folks got him off me I tagged with them. They were as excited as I was and chuckled at my over excitement. The march kept going but all of a sudden we see a riot van pull up infront of us and riot officers jump off as the truck is still moving. The fuckers got a running start. They charged us and we took a swift right up a hill. One of them clubbed me in the back but I kept going, choking on my own laughter.

The march took a left after that and we snuck around back onto the street. That's when the bike cops showed up. They came out of nowhere and cut the march off. Just before they did I jumped infront of them to help my friend david. He was tackled and being beaten. I wasn't thinking that night and attempted to tackle the officer off of him. Before I could I felt something hit my side really hard. A cop straight up football tackled me. He tackled me onto the pavement and yelled at me to stop resisting. This was fight or flight! All of a sudden I felt 3 more officers on top of me. It felt like over 1000 pounds was on my back. They picked me up and threw me into the paddy wagon.

That was the end of my night, I could still hear the march yelling at the police. Telling them to kill themselves and other things we say to the filthy cops. How quickly the night passed, and how much it changed me. That's when I knew what I wanted to know all along. I would constantly ask myself "What can I do about this?" and that night I figured it out.

I can be free.

To folks who don't speak english.

There is a gadget at the bottom of the list, that will translate this blog to whatever language you speak so yeah that's a thing!

My laughter roars: Free yourselves!

You wake up at 7am, get out of bed and do morning stretches. You lumber to the bathroom. You take a shower and softly wheep. Another day in this hell, another day of repeating the same boring task and duties. You exit your shower, dry off, brush your hair. You go back to your room and select your outfit. You ask yourself if you can get away with that skirt that's a little short, you ask yourself if you can wear that shirt with a grenade on it. You ask yourself if you can get away with your own individual style. You can't, they'll stop you. You go downstairs and eat your breakfast. What is it this morning? Cap'n crunch? Always, always the same thing.

You leave your house and wait for the bus. The same old man is smiling at you in his creepish ways but you do the same as well, brush it off and pretend it isn't reality. You light a morning smoke and act like you don't have a care in the world. The bus arrives and it's the same driver, you show him your bus pass and continue to your usual seat. You sit there pondering what today will be like. Will you enjoy english class today? did you do all your homework? Oh shit did you forget it at home? These are the questions you ask yourself every grueling and sluggish day.

You get off the bus and arrive at school. You go across the street and enjoy one last smoke before you enter that wretched place again. The usual crowd is there, all of you ignoring eachother, occasionally asking eachother for a smoke. You finish it and go inside. Your heart doesn't race before entering these oh so dead but alive walls. You feel nothing at all. You slog to your locker and put everything you don't need in there. You hear slurs all around you, you hear about jon having sex with someone, or katie wearing that scandelous outfit. You ignore it like usual because it's just the same boring talk.

Well I laugh at you! Just like those before me I laugh! Your life is so miserable and you do nothing about it. You wake up get ready eat walk sit listen walk sit listen walk sit listen walk sit listen walk sit listen walk study work sleep then repeat. You do this everyday! I ask you why and all you answer with is "because" but lay out no good reason. You do this so you can go to college, you go to college to get a good job. What do you do when you get a job though? Why does your mind pretend like working as an adult is going to be magical? Oh you can now legally by your smokes eh? I laugh at that!

Like those before me I am laughing. How is it men like Bruno Flippe and Renzo Novatore are still right? How are we still locked in these chains of slavery and oppression. How is it our minds make up false realities so we can go about our days so blindly? We dream of having freedom as youth. It's all we talk about. Oh how excited we are to be able to buy smokes legally, and alcohol. Oh how excited we are to be able to do what we want and not have parents tell us what to do. We dream of that, yet, that dream is a lie, a lie we can't see. We are blinded by adults and this world!

Do not let them take away your sense of self. Do not let them mold you and teach you and eventually control you. The teachers will tell you "but I am on your side" when they are not. The teachers, they pretend to support us, but they want to control us just as much as capitalism and the state. They enforce the dress codes, they report you to the administration offices for skipping. They break up the fights, they don't stop the bullying. They depend on your subordination to exist! Reject them just as you reject your parents authority. Reject all authority!

Today, before you go to school ask yourselves, why? What is the point in all of this? Why am I learning science when I will probably work in a cubicle, or be sent to prison? Because it is part of the spectacle. They want to give you illusions of choice. What is the point in picking your electives or lanuage classes when you won't even use them? Ask yourself "Will today be any differant?" And come to your own conclusions

They present you with the illusion of choice while limiting your individual spirit.

I present you with the choice of freedom, or slavery.

Think long and hard comrades, for obtaining freedom is a struggle, and like all struggles hardships will be met, but they will be worth it. Free from long hours of useless studying. Free from being forced to learn about subjects that show no interest to you. Free from subjugation.


Hurry comrade, shoot the policeman, the judge, the boss, the principal. Now, before a new police prevent you.

Hurry to say No, before the new repression convinces you that saying no is pointless, mad, and that you should accept the hospitality of the mental asylum.

Hurry to attack capital before a new ideology makes it sacred to you.

Hurry to refuse work before some new sophist tells you yet again that “work makes you free”."

Hurry to play. Hurry to learn. Hurry to arm yourselves

                                                                                           -cracklemore

Iconclastic Individualism and youth: Why are youth always rebellious?

In this day and age, and throughout history youth are always depicted as uncontrollable and hostile towards authority. A main "critique" of anarchism is that "It's a bunch of edgy teenagers" but have we thought about why that is? Alot of leftist will say because of the "violent window smashers and punks" or that "Because youth are the stupid ones." Besides the obvious ageism, everyone I described so far is wrong. Youth are the iconclastic individuals, the ones that cannot and will not be controlled, but why?

Anthropologically speaking, before civilization existed all forms of human existence were the closest thing to anarchy and true egalitarianism. You're probably wondering why I pulled that out. I did so because youth still retain those natural instincts of anarchy. Before we reach adulthood we are still groomed by society and molded, and the process isn't complete until we reach adulthood. So before that our natural instincts resist the authority of all those around us. Youth are the true iconclastic individuals who will bring about the apocolypse.

Poutine Is Magical: Why you should like it.

It's fucking french fries SMOTHERED in gravy, and you can have it vegan, why wouldn't you eat it? Like comon folks lets be serious. Unless you have some horrid allergy to something in it, you should fucking eat it.

Another reason to leave the left: Rampant Fucking Ageism

 Im posting this because I had a unique experience tonight and not a good one. There was a debate about if society is progressivly changing because of markets and capitalism, or if it's all a shawdow covering fucked up shit. I argued that capitalism doesn't shape society, but provides a shroud over struggles to trick folks, like a magician, that something happened magically when in reality it never happened at all. That is not the point of this blog post, the the point is what followed.

Folks came back with a counter argument, but provided no platform at all. These folks are all older, from 21-31 so a good amount older than I. Everytime I wanted to speak again, I was interupted with constant attack. Why was this? that doesn't make sense we are "radicals" right? It happened because the left is dominated and controlled by hierarchies, and ageism is a hierarchy. Youth often are treated as commodities, or are provided no platform and must "listen and respect your comrades that are older." Why should we provide respect when it's not granted to us? Oh you were born 10 years before me? good for fucking you. Age doesn't grant you anything over me, it grants you having a longer time thinking about things that's it. I honestly do not give any fucks about that. I don't care if you think you "struggled more" or any oppression olympics bullshit. What I do care about is getting shit done

Enough of my tangent, let's dive into why more. By youth being seen as a commodity, I mean youth are seen as a tool, as an object, rather than actual people. We are viewed as a neccascary tool for revolution. That we are the ones to continue the struggle so the left takes that and falls into the typical savoir politics they do. The left feels like they must shape and form youth resistance and rebellion and control it. The left controls the youth by providing no platform. Instead they bombard us with readings and tell us to read all this useless shit. They also force us to listen and respect them. This is how youth are seen as a commodity.

Well enough is enough, im fucking sick of it. People critique Post-leftism for being "edgy" and "a bunch of teenagers just trying to be cool" but do you all who say that ever ask yourselves why someone would leave the left? As a youth I left the left because im sick of your bullshit. I have maybe a handfull of leftist as friends and comrades still after this night because of this bullshit. Im sure there is ageism among post-left circles, but I have yet to encounter it, or even hear about it. SO for all the youth reading this, get out while you still can! Leave now! Tell all your "revolutionary" older folks to fuck off and just walk away and head towards your own destination. Don't let them control and dictate you and force false alleigences upon you. Run fast! and leave a trail of flames and ashes in your path.

The new world will form out of the ashes of the old

                                                                                           -Cracklemore

Wishing everyone (and myself) Good luck for the school year!

Hello all, hope you had a good summer break.

I just wanted to have a post for everyone  regarding this next school year. I just wanna try to encourage everyone to have a good time, despite going to school. This year, like every year, will be tough, but we don't have to let it get us down. I encourage everyone to find ways to make life at your school more bearable for you, and increase your capacity for joy and happiness. If you do that with cheating on your homework, do it! The only thing that makes sharing your information wrong is that the authority has told you it's wrong, and since when have anarchists been fans of listening to authority? If you want something done at your school, like a garden instead of those disgusting patches of dead grass, then do what you must to get it done. There are many ways and reasons to make your life at school more enjoyable and less restricting.

One of the many texts I've read this year said to always be making plans, and I hope you all take that to heart, and remember to always try to make plans for making your time in school enjoyable.

Stay insurrecto.

-Echo