24/01/2012 Comments Off on Communiqué from Occupied Crush Culture Center
The spaces we live in are broken: occupation is our defense.
As capital spirals further into crisis, we are constantly confronted with the watchword of austerity. We are meant to imagine a vast, empty vault where our sad but inevitable futures lie. But we are not so naïve. Just as Wall Street functions on perpetually revolving credit markets where cash is merely a blip, so also does our state government. High tuition increases have been made necessary not by shrinking savings, but by a perpetually expanding bond market, organized by the UC Regents, enforced through increasing tuition and growing student loan debt. Growth has become a caricature of itself, as the future is sold on baseless expanding credit from capitalist to capitalist. Our future is broken. We are the crisis. Our occupations are the expressions of that crisis.
But on the university campuses, where militarization is increasing daily, we have more immediate needs. Our relationship with the administration and police is not one of trust and openness; the arrogance and nonchalance with which they regularly inflict violence against us is just as regularly followed by a thoroughly dissembling, inadequate, and cowardly condemnation of that violence. One hand attacks—one hand denies. Our universities and our public spaces are today ultra-militarized zones, where students and workers are monitored and subjugated under the pretense of “health and safety.” Officer Kemper from UC Irvine drew his gun at the Regents’ meeting at UCSF. Berkeley UCPD participated in violently clearing the Oakland Communards from Oscar Grant Plaza just weeks before they would come to UC Davis for the events of November 18th. On the day of the first Oakland General Strike, UCOP office in Oakland was lent out to OPD to “monitor” protests. Under the pretext of mutual aid, squads of armed and armored riot cops move from one campus, one public space, one city, to the next. The circulation of cops throughout the state shows that the mobile, militarized force of repression knows no boundaries: it will protect capital, government, and the status quo, wherever they are threatened. In a university whose motto is fiat lux, the administration crushes dissent and veils its intentions with lies. It has the same intentions as Mayor Quan or the Military in Egypt: to crush resistance, by any means necessary.
To continue our resistance, our immediate need is to create a safe space of togetherness, care, and freedom. When we occupied Mrak, the same officers who would later be involved in pepper spraying us watched over us as we slept. As we gathered to discuss, plan, and act to protect our right to education, the Orwellian “Freedom of Expression Team” and the “University Communications Team” loomed nearby, texting the pigs and administration on their stupid androids, smiling at us in their fake, overfed way, scooting near like unpopular highschool kids trying to overhear the weekends’ party plans. Later, these same concerned FOEs, would stand by on the quad and do nothing, grinning like idiots, as students pepper-sprayed at point blank range called for medics. It is clear to us that public space has become a euphemism for militarized, ordered, monitored space. Occupation opens a common space which is not the extension of private property to group property, but the active exclusion of all that reinforces private property. We must exclude the police and the administration, and their “Freedom of Expression Team” lackeys as well, in order to create the openness and togetherness which is impossible in their presence.
The UC Chancellor, President, Regents—who prattle on endlessly about diversity while the university closes its doors to brown students, who hail marginal utility while “the economy” closes its fist around the poor, who dream up ways to boost the university’s standing on some imaginary scale of “excellence” while slurs, swastikas, nooses, and Klan masks appear endlessly on our campus, who meet protests with violence and truth with lies—they have already proven their incapacity to imagine a future different than the present. We occupy because we will not wait for the broken future they have planned for us, because we do not trust our “elected officials” or administrators to make decisions that address problems beyond their own narrow interests. This action is not the beginning of a discussion; this is the end of the discussion. We cannot negotiate for our needs, we will not negotiate for our needs, we will meet our needs.
Read More: http://ucdecolonized.wordpress.com/
07/12/2011 Comments Off on notes on political love
Politics is exhausting.
Lately I have been tired but I cannot sleep. I joke now that I will get a full night’s sleep only after the abolition of capitalism. I have been tired because when I am awake I am organizing, and because I am always or nearly always awake. I am tired because I am tired of arguing about what to do next, arguing about whether those who run the system against which we are fighting, or those who wear a badge and use a gun to defend it, can join us as equals. I am tired because not all speech is free speech. Not all speech is equal speech and when we pretend all speech is equal we accept as given the same domination against which we are fighting.
Politics is heartbreaking.
I love you all. But sometimes you break my heart. Sometimes I break your heart.
Politics is profound.
I want to tell you a story. It happened on November 2nd at the port of Oakland. I was marching towards the front. I was part of a group that was supposed to be at the front and frequently we had to stop and reassemble, because bicyclists or less encumbered protesters were ahead of us. At one point we stopped because we heard that the march was too disperse, and needed to reassemble itself. We had been marching for awhile, for a couple miles. And we, and I was exhausted. I turned to my friend next to me and complained. “We look so odd. 1/3 of the march ahead of those of us with banners and signs, 2/3 of the march behind us. I thought we were supposed to be in front not nearly in the middle.” My friend advised me to turn around.
As far as I could see were people marching. Their bodies filled the long, wide road leading into the port. Their bodies scaled the overpass of this road. I did not know it then, but the news helicopters latter showed that their bodies went further back than that. This was only the first of three waves. We were innumerable. I was overwhelmed.
Politics is terrifying.
We are here to win. And we are winning, but we have not yet won. The gamble we are making is terrifying. We have the world to win, it is said, and only our chains to lose. But we can lose much more than that. We have lost much more than that. Today we have no choice but to win. Losing is not an option, it is not an option because we are past the point of redemption, it is not an option because tens of thousands die daily, because the planet dies daily, because the rich get richer daily and everyone else is dying.
It is a terrifying gamble because we cannot know what the future holds. Entering a realm of total uncertainty, we must shake off the comfort of habit. Life is shit for all but a few, but the known has a way of entrancing. We must give up our attachments to this shit. We must leave the known behind as we seek out the radically new. The stupid sign says, “the beginning is nigh.” I prefer Karl Krauss, “the origin is the goal.” Or Karl Marx, “Capitalism is the pre-history of humanity. Only with communism will genuine human history begin.”
We are on the brink of history, my friends, and I am scared, crying, laughing, and totally falling in love with you.
Politics is amorous
Everything I write is a love letter to my comrades, is a love letter to the revolution.
05/12/2011 Comments Off on interview