What if it turned out that our so called Rational language is actually a complex set of linguistic traps that cleverly veils the power relationships of a Spirit Realm which is happening around us all the time: buzzing on our computer screens, pumping in our blood, and growing out of the ground we walk on everyday?

from where i'm standing it feels like such a mystical riddle, no one could have written a more interesting story: the cold war that became the war against terror nightmare puppet show, the neoconservatives are old trotskyists, the oppressed become the oppressors, the blacks and the jews actually have to figure out how to talk to one another about what went down in the late 60's, all the political prisoners and ghosts from put down rebellions waiting in the sidelines, a generation of mad kids struggling with monocult voodoo labels and psych drugs communicating with lightspeed technology...

from where i'm standing it feels like such a mystical riddle, no one could have written a more interesting story: the cold war that became the war against terror nightmare puppet show, the neoconservatives are old trotskyists, the oppressed become the oppressors, the blacks and the jews actually have to figure out how to talk to one another about what went down in the late 60's, all the political prisoners and ghosts from put down rebellions waiting in the sidelines, a generation of mad kids struggling with monocult voodoo labels and psych drugs communicating with lightspeed technology...

i don't know about you all but i know i want to be a part of a movement that has language to talk about power and class and race and gender without devolving into fragmenting identity politics, a movement that is full of love and actually prioritizes supporting the people in it, a movement that can collectively learn from its mistakes, a movement that knows its history and tells the stories publicly and loudly and beautifully, a movement that prioritizes community health and community support in ways that capture people's imaginations and in ways the state and corporations will never be able to, and a movement that has mad respect for wild dreams and true diversity and the ones who--by their very nature--don't fit into neat boxes and never will under any system.

a movement of the people that respects the freaks and wild ones.

and this is the obituary two of his best friends wrote for him.

The contours of your mental terrain are complex and jagged, carved from a life of adventure and pain and love without regrets. Scars from climbing over barbed wire fences between the borders of depression and mania and getting your heart broken over and over and patching it back together with pieces from everywhere.

i think these stories, these old myths of lost tribes and fairies and demons and wizards and magic -- i think we all have these stories embedded in our subconscious, they've evolved the same way our organs have evolved: very slowly, over time. the dominant culture knows how to play on those stories and trigger feelings in us that we don't even know we have. but different messages are getting through to different people. the fascist dream is of mass control but it can never really work like that for too long.