NEVR REALLY SLEEP #2: THE OCCUPY MELBOURNE EDITION

DISCLAIMER FOR NEW READERS:

I hope you are all impressed by the way I've been ignoring that whole Occupy Melbourne thing.

I feel that many bloggers may lack the mental self-discipline needed to ignore that whole Occupy Melbourne thing.

Nah, just fucking with you. I'm all over that shit:

Watch live video from occupymelb on www.justin.tv








PART I:  COLD ANALYTICAL REASONING

I know, I know, but don't worry crew, I'm gonna talk you through that whole Occupy Melbourne thing, in the only way I know how: with some smug poetry and confusing art.

That's OK, no need to thank me.


KEEP THAT LINE MOVING!

[notes towards an investigation.]

also, a poem.


do this:

keep public ignorant

to get this:

less resistance


do this:

limit access to control points

to get this:

program simplicity



do this:

create preoccupations

to get this:

lowered defences



do this:

give more credit

to get this:

more self-indulgence
more data



do this:

social conformity

to get this:

social isolation



do this:

accelerate timing

to get this:

less data shift and blurring



do this:

collapse currency

to get this:

destroy people's faith in money

PART II: BASED ON A TRUE STORY

If oppression emanates from the power of that which is seen, then logic might compel us to investigate the possibility that resistance could ally itself with the power of that which is unseen. The unseen is not necessarily the invisible or the disappeared. It can be seen and might be seen. It is not yet seen—or it is deliberately hidden. It reserves the right to re-appear, or to escape from representation. This hermetic ambiguity shapes its tactical movement; to use a military metaphor, it practices guerrilla techniques of "primitive war" against those of "classical war", refusing confrontation on unequal terms, melting into the generalized resistance of the excluded, occupying cracks in the strategic monolith of control, refusing the monopoly of violence to power, etc. 

["Violence" here also signifies imagistic or conceptual violence.] In effect it opposes strategy [ideology] with tactics that cannot be strategically bound or ideologically fixed. It might be said that consciousness "alone" does not play as vital a role in this as certain other factors. ["Freedom is a psycho-kinetic skill".] For example, there is an aspect of the unseen that involves no effort, but consists simply in the experience of places that remain unknown, times that are not marked.

The Unseen Obelisk - Hakim Bey

PART III: NEVER REALLY SLEEP

And Occupy Melbourne looks like this:

Watch live streaming video from occupymelb at livestream.com

And sometimes it feels like this:



But sometimes it's so damn amazing I just stand there and look around, smiling.


Try to dig what I'm trying to lay down:

1] NEVER REALLY SLEEP
2] You Must Have An Enemy #4: Meet The New War, Same As The Old War
3] Words Are Pictures #3: Medley Of Spirituals

Melbourne Shall Be Your New Mecca #29: The Greatest Story Ever Told

PART I: Poems Are Not Facts


[Wherein, many a darkness into the light shall leap.]

"And many a darkness into the light shall leap,
And shine in the sudden making of splendid names,
And noble thought be freer under the sun,
And the heart of a people beat with one desire ;
For the peace that I deemed as peace is over and done."

- Tennyson 

PART II: Melbourne Shall Be Your New Mecca

[Wherein, only paint can save us now.]
 

PART III: The Greatest Story Ever Told 

[Wherein, the greatest story ever told.] 

...and me and 49 other people found it on youtube. 

I highly recommend it. 

It has flaming skulls. 

Thumbs up! 

Try to dig what I'm laying down: 

1] Melbourne Shall Be Your New Mecca #1-28
 

I MADE YOUR EYES #3: Set Fire To The Armchair

DISCLAIMER:

Don’t ask for the formula for opening up worlds to you in some syllable like a bent dry branch. Today, we can only tell you what we are not, what we don’t want.

- Eugino Montale

PART I: I MADE YOUR EYES

Wherein, I made your eyes:

The Party could not be overthrown from within. Its enemies, if it had any enemies, had no way of coming together or even of identifying one another. 

Even if the legendary Brotherhood existed, as just possibly it might, it was inconceivable that its members could ever assemble in larger numbers than twos and threes. 

Rebellion meant a look in the eyes, an inflexion of the voice, at the most, an occasional whispered word. But the proles, if only they could somehow become conscious of their own strength, would have no need to conspire. They needed only to rise up and shake themselves like a horse shaking off flies. 

If they chose they could blow the Party to pieces tomorrow morning. 

Surely sooner or later it must occur to them to do it? And yet-! 

PART II: SET FIRE TO THE ARMCHAIR

Wherein, set fire to the armchair:

He remembered how once he had been walking down a crowded street when a tremendous shout of hundreds of voices women's voices -- had burst from a side-street a little way ahead. It was a great formidable cry of anger and despair, a deep, loud 'Oh-o-o-o-oh!' that went humming on like the reverberation of a bell. 

His heart had leapt. 

It's started! he had thought. A riot! The proles are breaking loose at last! 

When he had reached the spot it was to see a mob of two or three hundred women crowding round the stalls of a street market, with faces as tragic as though they had been the doomed passengers on a sinking ship. But at this moment the general despair broke down into a multitude of individual quarrels. It appeared that one of the stalls had been selling tin saucepans. They were wretched, flimsy things, but cooking-pots of any kind were always difficult to get. Now the supply had unexpectedly given out. 

The successful women, bumped and jostled by the rest, were trying to make off with their saucepans while dozens of others clamoured round the stall, accusing the stall-keeper of favouritism and of having more saucepans somewhere in reserve. There was a fresh outburst of yells. Two bloated women, one of them with her hair coming down, had got hold of the same saucepan and were trying to tear it out of one another's hands. For a moment they were both tugging, and then the handle came off.

And yet, just for a moment, what almost frightening power had sounded in that cry from only a few hundred throats! 

Why was it that they could never shout like that about anything that mattered? 

PART III: QUESTION AUTHORITY AND FIND NEW METHODS FOR SURVIVAL

Wherein, question authority and find new methods for survival:

Try to dig what I'm laying down:

1] I MADE YOUR EYES 
2] I MADE YOUR EYES #2: "IT'S LIKE LIVING IN THE MIND OF A DEPRESSED HIPPY"

I MADE YOUR EYES #2: "IT'S LIKE LIVING IN THE MIND OF A DEPRESSED HIPPY"

DISCLAIMER:

The aim of a joke is not to degrade the human being, but to remind him that he is already degraded. 

- George Orwell

PART I: ALL WARNINGS ARE FOR DISPLAY PURPOSES ONLY

"Even the Catholic Church of the Middle Ages was tolerant by modern standards. Part of the reason for this was that in the past no government had the power to keep its citizens under constant surveillance. The invention of print, however, made it easier to manipulate public opinion, and the film and the radio carried the process further. With the development of television, and the technical advance which made it possible to receive and transmit simultaneously on the same instrument, private life came to an end."

PART II: I MADE YOUR EYES

Just remember, there are things we don't know that we don't know. These things are called unknown unknowns, not just unknowns. And if the things we don't know ever decide to get us, we'll all be in the shit and the world will come to an end.

Our only hope for peace and democracy and what we absolutely have to do no matter how much the liberals complain, is torture all the Arabs and everyone else until we find out what we don't know.

I stand for 10-12 hours in my office each day.

    

If I can do that to protect my country then the least some terrorist can do is be strung up, given electric shocks, suffocated and told that their family are or will be killed, so we can gather valuable information in the war of, I mean on, terror.

 

Now that's fair and if the American people don't think so and I have to resign so a different oily puppet can feed them the same shit, so be it but I was and still am right. 

  
We are winning the war on terror and the war in Iraq.

 It's just going to take a few more generations. But one day the people will look back and realise they just didn't understand and I was right all along. And when that day comes, I will gloat.

I'll be too busy finding out the current unknown unknowns at that time and torturing people to keep them safe and secure and when I finally go to meet Jesus, he and all the people of the world will speak with a single voice, in chorus.

Rumsfeld, they'll say, you were right. 

PART III: "IT'S LIKE LIVING IN THE MIND OF A DEPRESSED HIPPY"








Try to dig what I'm laying down: 

1] I MADE YOUR EYES 
2] Celebrity Guest Post   
3] Keep That Line Moving! 

 

I MADE YOUR EYES

DISCLAIMER: 

"Most of all, I'd like to thank the Government of the United States of America, for sacrificing the lives of millions of Muslim civilians, tens of thousands of poor and working class American citizens and trillions of dollars to prop up a pointless military industrial complex/security state which is even blind to massive natural disasters... please, please... turn the music down... there's more I'd like to say... "

PART I: THE LIGHTS ARE ON BUT YOU'RE NOT HOME

Wherein the lights are on but you're not home:

"The next moment a hideous, grinding speech, as of some monstrous machine running without oil, burst from the big telescreen at the end of the room. It was a noise that set one's teeth on edge and bristled the hair at the back of one's neck. The Hate had started. As usual, the face of Emmanuel Goldstein, the Enemy of the People, had flashed on to the screen."

"A hideous ecstasy of fear and vindictiveness, a desire to kill, to torture, to smash faces in with a sledgehammer, seemed to flow through the whole group of people like an electric current, turning one even against one's will into a grimacing, screaming lunatic."

"On the sixth day of Hate Week, after the processions, the speeches, the shouting, the singing, the banners, the posters, the films, the waxworks, the rolling of drums and squealing of trumpets, the tramp of marching feet, the grinding of the caterpillars of tanks, the roar of massed planes, the booming of guns – after six days of this, when the great orgasm was quivering to its climax and the general hatred of Eurasia had boiled up into such delirium that if the crowd could have got their hands on the 2,000 Eurasian war-criminals who were to be publicly hanged on the last day of the proceedings, they would unquestionably have torn them to pieces – at just this moment it had been announced that Oceania was not after all at war with Eurasia. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Eurasia was an ally."

PART II:  YOUR WILL IS NOT YOUR OWN

Wherein your will is not your own:

"Day by day and almost minute by minute the past was brought up to date. In this way every prediction made by the Party could be shown by documentary evidence to have been correct; nor was any item of news, or any expression of opinion, which conflicted with the needs of the moment, ever allowed to remain on record. All history was a palimpsest, scraped clean and reinscribed exactly as often as was necessary."

PART III: I MADE YOUR EYES

Wherein I made your eyes:

the picture behind lends testament

to the ironic figure in the foreground

the subject and the context are juxtaposed

like the jihad of your mind

against the wine glass of our civilization

chained like a dog to the screen

as the big lie slowly reveals itself

and is changed back again into the truth

these words will rewrite you

TRY TO DIG WHAT I'M LAYING DOWN: 

1] Time Is Not The Enemy

2] "Much Like The Jihad Of Your Mind, Against The Wine Glass Of Our Civilisation" #3: What Makes The Machine Go?

3] Put Your Hand Against The Screen