07 June, 2005


On Saturday night I happened to run into a local anarchist-type while I was at a party*. I didn't know him very well, but he somehow recognized me, and although he was typically taciturn he did confirm my suspicions: absolutely nothing is happening in the left-activist scene.

This is good, because it means I haven't been missing anything. But, obviously bad because I haven't had anything to miss. What the heck? This should be an ideal time to organize, for reasons I don't think I have to enumerate. The list of grievances is long, discontent is high. People should be running around on the street with veins in their teeth, gunning down corrupt politicians and breaking open corporate coffers. Spontaneously. Instead, they're just... what?

Last time I went on this rant, I concluded we were taking a contemplative time-out. But it seems even the non-contemplative activists, the from-the-gut whose-streets-our-streets types, are thrown. I have to revise my hypothesis to: shell-shock.

There's two responses when you're encircled and the enemy is closing in with blades drawn: get your back up and fight hard, or fall down and wail and tear your hair in despair.

* Conveniently situated at my neighbors' place, in the same house as me - even I am not lazy enough to pass that up.

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