“This forest, or another forest – forests without end. As faith retreats and reason sleeps those times shall come again.”
From Christopher Scott Thompson
The third in a sequence of surrealist prophecies written using the divinatory technique of automatic writing (with subsequent revision). The theme of the sequence is the collapse of our global civilization due to uncontrollable climate change, leading to a mass rejection of both faith and reason and the re-enchantment of our world among the ruins of our failed creations. Some of the poems in the sequence are set before the Fall and portray the spiritual and emotional dilemma of our current crisis. Some describe the Fall itself, and the strange changes in thought and perception that will be needed if any are to survive a world in which humanity has been radically de-centered. Some describe the world to come, a world newly alive with gods and spirits yet free of all dogma or fixed belief – a world of beauty and strange magic.
The third prophecy centers around Rudolf Otto’s concept of the numinous as the immediate presence of the Other, often experienced as a “terrible and fascinating mystery” and described by Otto in The Idea of the Holy as “daemonic dread… the horror of Pan.” In “Junkyard Nemeton,” an abandoned junkyard becomes a druidic grove as the trees advance, and the numen walks in the reborn forest. In this case, only a few lines from the final poem have their origin in automatic writing.
Dead cars and broken plastic crates with empty bottles bloom.
Roots twist and turn while weird lights burn, out there beyond the gloom.
Discarded wedding rings and books, lost toys and headless dolls.
The forest grows and no one knows what comes and goes, what calls.
There’s something there, with tangled hair. It walks, and drips, and moans.
The song that calls me to the night sounds sweeter than my own.
I step across the muddy ditch and jump the broken fence.
Between the trees, the night-owl sees, and flees in self-defense.
I raise my hands in recompense and mutter words of prayer.
Strange laughter fills the junkyard night. I whisper “who is there?”.
Novitiate, initiate, at last I shall be shown.
The lies that brought me here tonight seem truer than my own.
I lived my life in constant strife, in service to a creed.
But here at last I have no past, for here there is no need.
I stepped across the border and I crawled across the wall.
Here reason sleeps and faith retreats. The forest eats them all.
I’m startled into silence by a long and lonely moan.
The truth that called me here tonight seems stronger than my own.
Ten thousand years now disappear. In some forgotten time,
My ancient dead here bowed their heads as I am bowing mine.
This forest, or another forest – forests without end.
As faith retreats and reason sleeps those times shall come again.
I speak, but I could never tell the things that I was shown.
The words that I would need are so much stranger than my own.
The wings that flap, the eyes that see, the creatures with their call.
The mountain past the forest looms – strange, black, and fat, and tall.
The birds, like gods, are eating flesh. Skulls guard the cave of bears.
Nine-fold the numen walks tonight, and dogs are howling there.
In polar coldness, near the heart, flame flickers on a stone.
The star that leads me to the light is brighter than my own!
Christopher Scott Thompson
is an anarchist, martial arts instructor, devotee of Brighid and Macha, and a wandering exile roaming the earth. Photo by Tam Zech.
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“To write is to claim the audacity to speak and the courage to yield, to dare for a moment to care for ourselves in speech, in writing, and in solitude.”
From Pat Mosley
First things first, accept that everything you say or don’t say is wrong, too late, not enough, not relevant.
If you’re lucky enough to land an actual writing gig somewhere, disregard all indications of friendships initiated by your editors. Accept that you are filling a role, whether anyone will admit it or not. Your role is to be as trans as possible. And if you’re writing for a site owned by right-wing Christians, accept the impossible challenge that you must be both trans enough to make your owners look liberal, but not so trans as to make anyone uncomfortable by calling out their corporate affiliates.
Inevitably, you’ll fail and get booted. But don’t worry because everyone will be too busy blaming John Halstead to notice. You’ll find other gigs and they’ll publish you as long as it’s clear that you’re a trans writer, never just a writer, never permitted to be neutral in matters of being categorized-other.
You can write about bathroom bills, but not capitalism. Gender, but not climate change. Discrimination, but not civilization. Feelings, but never theory.
You will be an identity from now on, not a human being. You will be the trans writer, not the writer who likes to forage, the writer who likes to weave, or the writer who has suffered from depression for half their life so far and tried to off themselves more recently than anyone is comfortable with.
You will be trans, and trans alone, but never trans enough. In a crushed velvet dress, drawing Inanna down from the heavens while serving vintage witchy woman realness, it will still be a surprise, a gag, not real, not enough. Hunty.
Naked and in bed with your next lover, it’ll all seem like a far-off dream. But you’ll have internalized it—who could love you? Who could touch this body for pleasure? You’ll fight about gender, because of course you will. Of course this world must be material, not ecstatic, labeled, territories and border walls, from Palestine to monogamy, to our thighs touching and my eyes shut tight, trying.
The crackle of your laughter can light up a room, but in the digital world, you’ll be a howl on the wind of Earth’s darkest nights, a shot of pain, an assemblage of social realities, flattened, fixed in place.
Readers will mince your words, pulling apart some string of pronouns and ambiguity to determine which gender when and which gender now. Readers will gauge your truth, scrutinizing a filtered two-dimensional profile picture for their reality of who they know you must actually be. More will be gleaned about your life by your readers than you will ever have the platform to publish or the privilege to even draft.
Constantly outed, no consequence considered. Constantly demanded, no aftermath concerning. Singular. One-dimensional identity. Constantly roped back and down to your trauma, the trauma, of which you are never an adequate martyr.
You aren’t a storyteller. This isn’t the Stone Age. It’s 2018 and you produce content to be consumed, discarded. No one gives a fuck about your life, your interests, your passions, your growth. A few times a year, some well-established Pagan woman somewhere will dare to speak her mind, and then all of the sudden, you’ll matter again. Except you won’t. Your labor will.
The thing about writing is that there is never any way to be right. There is no correct way to write about trans issues. If trans people do it, always-helpful readers will chastise cis people for not stepping up and collecting their people. If cis people dare exit their lanes and write something, readers will complain that trans voices should be amplified! Centered! Yes! Rip us into the spotlight—we have no lives of value to protect, no agency in determining whether something necessitates a response, no worth beyond a good retort we haven’t typed out a thousand times already. This time it will matter, surely. Five more likes and shares and the Goddess will grant us a miracle!
To write about trans issues is to subject yourself to a full-on public examination of your gender, a scrutiny of your public presence, and a tallying of all the ways you are male, you are female, you are mad, angry, fossilized, and archaic. All of this—the scales for determining the value of your voice.
And why? Why is it always our voices? Why is it never allowed to be our bodies? Our minds? Our health? Our lives? Dare we ever get to judge a political theorist on the quality of their theories more than the sensationalism of their trauma?
To write is to trespass a thousand million unspoken, presumed laws we will never know of until it is already too late. To write is to claim the audacity to speak and the courage to yield, to dare for a moment to care for ourselves in speech, in writing, and in solitude. And for these sins, every fiber of our existence will still be determined wrong in some new, pseudo-nuanced way.
We are disposable conveniences to you.
Nearly one hundred thousand people read an article I published a couple years ago. Yet not one person is ever within reach when I plunge into the depths of depression and existential horror. Where are you, dear readers? Who are you to make any demands of me or anyone mantled by any identity?
I know you aren’t my allies. I dare to proclaim you aren’t my community either.
You don’t want resolution, you don’t want healing.
You want blood. You want a fight.
You want rape and slow, brutal, verbal murder. You want the chance to scavenge our still-breathing corpses for every wrong word, wrong deed, and wrong idea. You want to choke out the life of young trans people, filling their heads with fake statistics about their alleged lifespan until they succumb to a suicide you can count with glory in your spectator martyrdom. You want to keep repeating that bullshit no matter how many times it is explained to you that it is wrong. You want to silence whatever anarchic spirit rises contrary to your pleasure, your comfort, your conceptualization of us, the writers, givers, power-shakers, the disabled, the whores, the mad.
You are insatiable.
And in your demand, there is no liberation. There is no break from the trauma in your consumption of us. We will perpetually be rape victims and sex workers, permitted only ever to be destitute survivors or proudly empowered feminists in this trade, never trafficked, never coerced, never self-hating, never grown-up traumatized children working through toxic relationships to sexuality and capitalism. For the duration of a Facebook thread or a five minute speech at your weekend rally, we will be fabulous and stunningly feminine, brave and on brand, centered and amplified, righteous and fuming—or we will be no one remotely of value. Never are we allowed to heal, to not care, to decline, to merge with the Ohr Ein Sof, to love drag culture, to just move on or dare to politic differently.
Your concern for trans people is limited to an abstract rendering of our lives into a consumable text format or sound bit for you to like and share and boldly critique without ever having to consider the author as a human being who breaks, who cries, who has limits, who has boundaries.
You are a hammer. You demand a nail. You demand to crucify.
You don’t want to hear trans voices. You want to hear yourself echoed and applauded in a lifeless metaphor embodied by a trans person you couldn’t give two shits about.
You want to share a witty piece about emotional labor, but you wouldn’t dare interrogate your own unceasing demands for it.
You want to conjure us out like personal Jesus goddesses every time there’s a conflict in the community, as if our whole lives begin with every moment you need us.
You want another battle royale, angry dykes vs. angry trannies, angry feminism, blood and hormones, a performance for your entertainment and never our own resolution. I think it was Utah Phillips who asked Ani Difranco why don’t you write angry feminist songs anymore?
You want to catalogue our identities so you can catalogue our sins.
You want clearly MALE or clearly FEMALE, clearly CIS or clearly TRANS, because you still cannot handle the glorious, radiant biology of intersexuality, the sex of angels, the holy mystery of ambiguity and the tidal movement of life between continental bodies in a shimmering ocean.
God/dess bless you. Bless all your hearts.
I am finished anchoring my politics in the trauma of my identities for the sake of people other than the fiery spirit within my own heart. I am finished being called up like an enslaved Goetic daemon to pen whatever it is the readers demand to dictate this time.
I am not going to identify myself for you anymore.
WO/MAN HAS THE RIGHT TO WRITE WHAT S/HE WILL.
Pat Mosley is a bodyworker and writer based in the Carolina Piedmont. His work is rooted in compassionate touch, permaculture, and deep ecology with the resilience of all Earth’s children in mind. Connect with him at https://www.pat-mosley.com/
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Supposedly, Trump’s conciliatory language makes him a traitor, “simpering and submissive” before Putin. Doesn’t he care that Putin hacked the election – an “act of war” comparable to Pearl Harbor and 9/11?
Now, Russian bots didn’t put Trump in office. Rather, Hillary Clinton focused her get-out-the-vote efforts on Republicans, misguidedly expecting them to vote for her (whom they’ve hated for decades) rather than their own candidate. That miscalculation narrowed her majority enough to make her vulnerable to a fluke of Electoral College math.
Even so, since the election anti-Trump progressives have become more and more bellicose, with a growing homophobic and anti-communist edge. Where is that coming from? Aren’t liberals supposed to oppose war and support gay rights?
Liberalism is in crisis.
It started under Obama. Despite opening his administration with broad popularity and the only congressional super-majority in recent memory, Obama’s tenure saw the emergence of mass movements to the Democratic Party’s left, most prominently Occupy Wall Street and Black Lives Matter. Combined with the lingering echo of the 2008 financial meltdown, that laid the conditions for a Democratic crisis of legitimacy. In 2016, it crystallized through Bernie Sanders challenging Clinton and Trump winning the presidency. The unthinkable had happened. Progressives couldn’t deliver what they promised. So, their credibility vanished.
How did they respond? There’s a logic to the accusations of treason, the saber-rattling, and the conspiracy theories. If you’ve lost your legitimacy, how better to get it back than to set yourself up as the defender of the homeland against a looming foreign menace?
That’s why liberals are also going after the Left. Supposedly, Russian hackers are behind not only right-wing fake news, but also oil pipeline protests and the Jill Stein campaign. Democrats are throwing accusations of disloyalty and collusion at all of their opponents, left as well as right.
So, it’s no surprise to see the kind of outright homophobia that they mostly avoided under Obama. Homophobia is a powerful weapon in the nationalist arsenal. Insinuations of “deviant” sexuality bring a visceral punch to the image of sinister, un-American outsiders, strengthening nationalists’ appeal. Joe McCarthy persecuted gays as well as Communists in the 50s, and Democrats are exploiting those same attitudes today. Will they officially recant their pro-gay rights platform? They don’t need to. They’re feeding an embryonic anti-LGBT backlash in spite of it.
Liberals are fighting a war on two fronts.
On one side, they’re trying to beat down and discredit the Left. On the other, they’re competing against the Right on its own nationalistic turf.
Working in coalition with liberals is common sense for most leftists. But, the Democrats’ hard-nationalist turn means they’re starting to view radicals as enemies on par with Trump supporters. Government socialists and other activist leftists will doubtless keep trying to form progressive coalitions anyway. They’re donating volunteer hours to the political forces that will destroy them.
Progressives tolerate radicals when they can afford to. Right now, their crisis means they can’t. Working with Democrats, within their subculture, is no longer viable. So, without an infrastructure of independent revolutionary institutions, how will the Left survive? Revolutionaries can drop conventional activism and embrace the institution-building dual power strategy, or they can find themselves helpless as the liberal allies they depend on turn against them. The crisis of liberalism won’t be ending soon. Unless revolutionaries adapt, how can they withstand it?
A Copa do Mundo terminou, depois de termos politicado incessantemente os atletas e os países que essas equipes representavam. Havia algo suspeitamente conveniente em lembrar do colonialismo francês agora, mas esquecer da corrupção e da opressão da FIFA. Desta forma, podemos ficar colados na T.V. sem perder “pontos de militância”.
O movimento de resistência contra a FIFA em 2013 e 2014 não é coisa do passado. Os pretextos que transformaram movimentos sociais em organizações terroristas são, até hoje, responsáveis pela criminalização do ativismo político no nosso pais. Isso resultou em 23 presos políticos com sentenças entre 5 e 13 anos, alguns ainda sendo processados agora. Pessoas morreram e muitas mais perderam suas casas. Mas o que discutimos é como torcer para o México é uma mensagem anti-Trump, e como a equipe alemã está de alguma forma (simbolicamente) relacionada com a política sobre refugiados de Merkel.
Estamos testemunhando a fachada do estilo estadouniense de Democracia se desintegrando, revelando o fascismo de um Estado Imperializado que encarcera em massa e mata pessoas pobres, negras, trans e mulheres. Além disso, um Estado que usa uma corporação para distrair as massas com esportes nacionalistas, enquanto criminaliza dissidência política.
Anarquistas e Maoistas estão sendo igualmente criminalizados por dissidência capaz de prejudicar a capacidade do governo de funcionar. A OATL (Organização Anarquista Terra e Liberdade) e o MEPR (Movimento Estudantil Popular Revolucionário) foram recentemente colocados como frentes de iniciativas de atos violentos em 2013.
“Membros da OATL e MEPR planejavam lançar coquetéis molotovs e rojões contra a policia durante passeatas contra a copa do mundo” (Folha de Sāo Paulo, 17 de Julho 2018)
Mesmo com todas as nossas divergências ideológicas; particularmente em relação ao uso idolátrico de liderança, e o interesse na reconstrução de um Estado que sustentará a ditadura do proletariado; concordamos que o Estado em qual vivemos agora, e seu sistema eleitoral, deve ser derrubado. A re-centralização de poder econômico e estrutural num Governo comunista não é nem um pouco atraente pra nós anarquistas. E vemos que, apesar de eficiente em curto prazo, o culto de personalidade de líderes não é só contraditório aos nossos princípios de horizontalidade. É também insustentável, já que até agora revoluções morreram com seus lideres.
Nosso terreno comum é a ideia de que a dicotomia entre esquerda e direita no campo eleitoral é reformista/reacionária, e não revolucionária, já que visa representação em, e consequentemente validação do, sistema partidário. Até os candidatos de mais extrema esquerda como Boulos, mesmo com sua retórica de defesa do povo pobre por políticas contra a especulação imobiliária e etc., visa a reconstrução da fé do povo Brasileiro no sistema. Isso só atrasa a revolução. Sabemos que o candidato não vai ganhar, se ganhar não vai fazer o que fala, e se tentar fazer o que fala vai ser impeached, preso, ou morto (como já vimos acontecer tantas vezes antes).
A estratégia de usar a plataforma partidária sustentada pela “Democracia” (Estilo estadounidense) pra divulgar ideias revolucionárias é como transar pela virgindade, validando no processo a própria coisa que estamos tentando invalidar. A necessidade imediata do povo que mais precisa dessa revolução não pode ser saciada com migalhas. É nossa responsabilidade como militantes não criar dependência do próprio Governo que visamos derrubar, e lutar para suprir essas necessidades imediatas como uma comunidade; um Movimento.
“Há apenas a preocupação de se jogar migalha na boca escancarada da fome, talvez para que nos deixem em paz…” – Maria Lacerda de Moura
Do dia 11 a 15 de Julho, estudantes de pedagogia de todo o Brasil se encontraram em União dos Palmares, Alagoas, para discutir métodos de combate aos ataques do Estado contra a educação e os direitos do povo dentro e fora da esfera acadêmica no nosso pais.
Este foi o 38o ENEPe (Encontro Nacional de Estudantes de Pedagogia), e sua 1a edição Marxista-Leninista-Maoista.
A realização deste evento marcante na história da ENEPe não foi possível sem a superação de sérios obstáculos. Houve um rompimento entre estudantes de esquerda, resultando em dois eventos diferentes sendo realizados: este organizado pela ExNEPe (Executiva Nacional de Estudantes de Pedagogia) com presença predominante do MEPR, e outro evento com presença predominante do MEPe (Movimento Estudantil de Pedagogia) e movimentos estundatis ligados à UNE (União Nacional dos Estudantes).
Essa divergência ideológica entre os estudantes “de esquerda” é baseada no partidarismo. O MEPR reivindica a independência política, o boicote ao voto, e a completa rejeição da dependência financeira em, ou campanha de, partidos. Além disso, eles e elas também visam manter esse evento aberto a estudantes de outras áreas e a quem não é estudante.
Para muitos, o boicote ao voto significa uma brecha para a direita se fortalecer, ou até mesmo uma direita disfarçada. Os da MEPe, que não estavam a bordo com os posicionamentos da MEPR, não só fizeram seu próprio evento em outra data e local, mas também sabotaram a iniciativa de organização e promoção do evento de seus semelhantes. Cartazes promovendo a 38o ENEPe em União dos Palmares foram removidos ou danificados de alguma forma pelo país inteiro.
Nos palcos do primeiro dia, 11 de Julho, houve uma fala de forte crítica Marxista ao PT, introduções das delegações de cada região, fala da LCP (Liga de Camponeses Pobres), apresentação de dança do Quilombo, poesia, teatro, e até rock. Os espaços entre cada foram preenchidos por palavras de ordem e punhos levantados. “Resistir, lutar, pra cultura popular”, entre muitas outras.
A grande maioria das aproximadamente 400 pessoas presentes, tiveram que superar múltiplos obstáculos financeiros e burocráticos, além da sabotagem de outros alunos, para comparecer no evento aquela semana. Portanto, a presença de cada um, de cada região, segurava o peso da dedicação à militância, e o entusiasmo de uma juventude com fé na revolução.
Na mesa do 2o dia afirmaram que a independência do eleitoralismo é essencial na luta pela gratuidade educacional. A formação pedagógica ainda visa o treinamento de mão de obra barata, e Lula não foi melhor que FHC no combate a isso; cotas e bolsas só atrasam a revolução. Enquanto as reitorias agem como o Estado dentro da universidade, não ha como a universidade enfrentar o Estado. O papel do pedagogo e da pedagoga é fundamental pra formação da sociedade, e não deverá ser usado para servir um Estado.
A logística do evento foi discutida com todos e todas presentes. A comida, a limpeza, o transporte e a convivência em geral. Considerando que foi um evento realizado com completa autonomia financeira, sem apoio de partidos ou outras instituições, houve um processo de adaptação para os que não estavam acostumados.
Uma proposta essencial que foi aplicada durante o evento foi a criação de creches nas universidades. A creche representa a luta de inclusão da mulher na esfera política, acadêmica e profissional, com apoio da comunidade como um todo. Portando, a presença de crianças e bebês foi responsabilidade de todos e todas nós, e também simbólico para a estruturação de um movimento revolucionário onde esse papel não poderá ser só da mãe.
No último dia do encontro, o MFP (Movimento Feminino Popular) se apresentou como Marxista-Leninista-Maoista, abraçando a causa das mulheres que são alunas, professoras, operárias e camponesas, e afirmando que a mulher latifundiária é inimiga. O Movimento visa combater o trabalho doméstico não pago, a servitude de empregadas domesticas às suas empregadoras burguesas, e a ideia de que existe alguma diferença inata ente homens e mulheres.
A monogamia da família tradicional também deve ser combatida, pois nasceu com o conceito de propriedade privada para assegurar a transferência de bens por herança. Afirmaram também que não existe a cultura do estupro, existe o Patriarcado e o Capitalismo. Portanto, não se destrói a cultura do estupro com leis, se destrói o patriarcado capitalista com a revolução. O problema não é o homem, é o Estado. E acima de tudo, o propósito da organização é “despertar a fúria revolucionaria nas mulheres.”
Uma camarada da ExNEPe, Tarsila Pereira, foi proibida de comparecer a aulas como ouvinte na UFAL (Universidade Federal de Alagoas), por militar e promover este evento. A tentativa de abaixo assinado pra expulsar Tarsila acabou virando um abaixo assinado pra ela ficar, e o professor se recusou a expulsa-lá, falando que ele não é polícia, e na aula dele entra quem quer aprender. Felizmente, o processo que visava “restaurar a paz” nas salas de aula falhou, e hoje ela é uma aluna matriculada.
Sexta-feira, dia 13 de Julho, em Maceió, foi realizada uma manifestação em defesa de Tarsila na UFAL; contra o fascismo que infiltra a academia Brasileira; contra a intervenção militar e o oportunismo da Escola Sem Partido; contra a privatização das universidades e a regularização da profissão de pedagogos e pedagogas; e contra o imperialismo genocida no Oriente Médio.
Depois da manifestação, a organização do evento mostrou de forma impactante como a Cultura Popular é resistência. Uma apresentação de dança típica Alagoana abriu uma série de apresentações culturais de cada delegação presente. Ficou claro que “cada região é um País”, como falou uma das alunas assistindo. Foi emocionante presenciar como extrema diversidade pode sim significar uma completa união e solidariedade. Diversas danças, músicas, histórias, e linguagens foram apresentadas, destacando como a hegemonia violentamente invisibiliza expressões culturas belas e valiosas no Brasil.
Sábado, dia 14 de Julho, participantes foram divididos em três grupos, um deles destinado ao museu do Quilombo dos Palmares. A viajem no ônibus escolar amarelo foi uma celebração, ele ainda estava enfeitado da festa junina, e todos alternavam entre cantar techno brega e palavras de ordem. Na Serra da Barriga, região do Zumbi dos Palmares, chacoalhávamos na estrada de terra, subindo e descendo montanhas de mata baixa, com ocasionais coqueiros sendo saudados por urubus.
Foi inevitável sentir o poder daquele espaço, mesmo que agora esteja estruturado um pouco como um parque temático. Cada passo parecia levantar uma memória centenária combativa, como se fosse uma poeira que ao invés de ofuscar, tornava ainda mais nítido nosso propósito politico. A vista do alto a serra chegava quase a nos colocar no corpo dos homens e mulheres que se estabeleceram lá 400 anos atras, e na consciência estratégica de poder ver inimigos de longe sem ser visto.
No fim da visita, muitos de nós até nadamos na pequena lagoa verde pastel onde quilombolas “alimentavam suas almas”.
Quando voltamos pra universidade em União dos Palmares, assistimos apresentações de trabalhos, dos quais alguns seriam premiados. Um deles abordava a importância de educação sexual na escola, pra alunos entre 11 e 15 anos de idade. Interesses das crianças giravam em torno dos temas de masturbação, puberdade e menstruação. A apresentadora mostrou que sexo ainda é um tabu entre professores e reitorias, e a importância de derrubar esse tabu e abordar esse tema é de extrema urgência, quando se vê como é comum a gravidez de meninas de 13 a 15 anos e idade.
A importância da História foi enfatizada quando reconhecemos que o Brasil tem um problema de memória. Um trabalho sobre a Guerrilha do Araguaia trouxe pra mesa de debate a perpetuação da violência, décadas depois da batalha, quando crimes da resistência são judicialmente equiparados com os dos opressores. Trouxe também o tema das particularidades femininas na tortura durante a ditadura, e a questão do uso do termo “ditadura” em si, como um termo usado pela democracia burguesa pra defender suas políticas ditatoriais contemporâneas.
Em geral, houve muita repetição de termos como “pós-modernista”, “oportunista”, “imobilista” e Marxismo cientifico, sem finas definições e contextualizações. Isso alienou certos alunos que não se reivindicam Marxistas, e deu pouca abertura pra participantes apresentarem divergências. Até as votações finais foram bizarramente homogêneas, talvez não só porque houve consensus, mas também porque ir contra seria intimidador.
Para o burguês e pequeno burguês, a inacessibilidade é o charme. Com eles e elas não há diálogo, há combate. Combater a ideia de que ”uma mentira falada mil vezes vira verdade” (Goebbels) significa também reconhecer que existe diferentes perspectivas sobre a realidade, e não só uma verdade que pertence aos socialistas científicos. Ocasionais falhas em reconhecer isso resultou em certas infelizes falas, como uma sobre o misticismo de comunidades “primitivas”, e abordagens superficiais e desnecessárias do materialismo dialético.
Mesmo assim, foi afirmado que a ciência que vemos hoje na academia serve o Capital. O conhecimento científico do povo, seja ele indígena, negro ou camponês, é apropriado pelas classes dominantes e patenteado. Temos que trazer a ciência de volta para o povo, preservando a educação tradicional indígena, por exemplo. Para uma das palestrantes, o problema “do índio” é o problema de classe, e não da supremacia branca; É uma luta pela terra e pela sobrevivência. Seria interessante a presença de mais grupos Indígenas e Quilombolas nos próximos eventos, tanto que foi decidido que o tema do 23o FoNEPe (Fórum Nacional de Entidades de Pedagogia) será “educação que sirva o povo indígena, camponês e Quilombola”, ano que vem em Juazeiro.
No fim as despedidas foram calorosas, já que durante a semana cultivamos imenso carinho uns pelos outros. Havia espaço pra autocrítica e crescimento, e o potencial socio-politico do evento é inegável. Estamos todos e todas animadas pro próximo ENEPe (39o) que acontecerá em Guarulhos, com o tema de “defesa da escola pública, contra a privatização e fechamento de escolas públicas”.
“Se você paga,
não é mercadoria”
editora do site Gods&Radicals, escritora e professora.
The Common Ground Between Anarchists and Maoists
The World Cup ended, after we incessantly politicized athletes and the countries those teams were representing. There was something suspiciously convenient about remembering French colonialism now, but forgetting FIFA’s corruption and oppression. This way we can stay glued to the T.V. without losing any “woke points”.
Brazil’s uprising against FIFA in 2013 and 2014 is not a thing of the past. The pretexts that turned social movements into terrorist organizations are to this day responsible for the criminalization of political activism. This resulted in 23 political prisoners with sentences between 5 and 13 years, some still being prosecuted now. People have died, and many more lost their homes. But what we talk about is how cheering for Mexico is an anti-Trump statement, and that the German team is somehow related (symbolically) to Merkel’s refugee policy.
We are witnessing the facade of U.S. American style Democracy crumbing down, revealing the Fascism of an Imperialized State that mass incarcerates and kills poor people of color, trans people, and women. Moreover, a State that uses a corporation to distract the masses with nationalistic sports, while it criminalizes political dissent.
Brazilian Anarchists and Maoists are both being criminalized for dissent that could undermine the government’s ability to function. The OATL (Anarchist Organization of Land and Liberty) and the MEPR (Popular Revolutionary Student Movement) have recently been denominated initiators of violent protest acts in 2013.
“OATL and MEPR members planned to launch Molotov cocktails and other flaming objects at the police during marches against the world cup” – (Folha de São Paulo, July 17th 2018)
Even with all our ideological differences; particularly in relation to the idolatrous use of leadership, and the interest in rebuilding a state that will sustain the dictatorship of the proletariat; we agree that the state we live in now, and its electoral system, must be overthrown. The re-centralization of economic and structural power in a communist government is not at all attractive to us anarchists. And we see that, although efficient in the short run, the personality cult of leaders is not only contradictory to our principles of horizontality. It is also unsustainable, since up to now revolutions have died with their leaders.
Our common ground is the idea that the dichotomy between left and right in the electoral field is reformist / reactionary rather than revolutionary, since it seeks representation in, and consequently validation of, the system. Even the most far-left candidates like Guilherme Boulos (PSOL), with his rhetoric of defending the poor with policies against real estate speculation and so on, aim at rebuilding the faith of the Brazilian people in the system. This only slows down the revolution. We know that the candidate will not win, if he wins he will not do what he says, and if he tries to do what he says he will be impeached, imprisoned, or killed (as we have seen so many times before).
The strategy of using the partisan platform supported by the U.S. American Style Democracy to spread revolutionary ideas is like fucking for virginity, validating in the process the very thing we are trying to invalidate. The immediate needs of the people who most need this revolution can not be satiated with crumbs. It is our responsibility as militants to not create dependence on the very Government we aim to overthrow, and strive to meet these immediate needs as a community; a Movement.
“There is only the concern of throwing crumbs at the gaping mouth of hunger, perhaps so that they leave us alone …” (Maria Lacerda de Moura)
From 11 to 15 July, pedagogy students from all over Brazil met at União dos Palmares, Alagoas, to discuss methods of combating State attacks against education, and the rights of the people inside and outside the academic sphere in our country.
This was the 38th ENEPe (National Meeting of Students of Pedagogy), and its 1st Marxist-Leninist-Maoist edition.
The realization of this groundbreaking event in the history of ENEPe was not possible without overcoming serious obstacles. There was a rupture between leftist students, resulting in two different events being held: this one organized by ExNEPe (National Executive of Students of Pedagogy) with predominant presence of the MEPR, and another event with predominant presence of MEPe (Student Movement of Pedagogy) and student movements linked to UNE (National Union of Students).
This ideological divergence among “leftist” students is based on partisanship. The MEPR claims political independence, a vote boycott, and a complete rejection of financial dependence on, or campaigning for, political parties. In addition, they also aim to keep this event open to students from other academic fields and to non-students.
For many, the boycott of the vote means a breach for the right to strengthen, or even a right in disguise (like blaming 3rd party voters for Trump). Those of the MEPe, who were not on board with MEPR rhetoric, not only made their own event at another date and place, but also sabotaged the initiative and promotion of their peers’ event. Posters promoting the 38th ENEPe in União dos Palmares were removed or damaged in some way throughout the country.
The vast majority of the approximately 400 people present had to overcome multiple financial and bureaucratic obstacles, as well as the sabotage of other students, to attend the event that week. Therefore, the presence of each one, from each region, held the weight of dedication to militancy, and the enthusiasm of a youth with faith in the revolution.
On the last day of the meeting, the MFP (Popular Women’s Movement) presented itself as a Marxist-Leninist-Maoist, embracing the cause of women who are students, teachers, workers and peasants, and stating that the landowning (bourgois) woman is an enemy. The Movement aims to combat unpaid domestic work, the servitude of maids to their bourgeois employers, and the idea that there is some innate difference between men and women.
We must also overcome the monogamy of traditional families, because it was born with the concept of private property to ensure the transfer of assets by inheritance. They also affirmed that there is no rape culture, there is the Patriarchy and Capitalism. Therefore, one does not destroy rape culture with laws, one destroys capitalist patriarchy with a revolution. The problem is not the man, it is the State. And above all, the purpose of the organization is “to awaken revolutionary fury in women.”
The event showed beautifully how Popular Culture is resistance. A typical Alagoan dance performance opened a series of cultural presentations of each delegation present. It became clear that “each Brazilian region is a Country”, as one of the students observed. It was exciting to witness how extreme diversity can mean full union and solidarity. Several dances, songs, stories, and languages were presented, highlighting how the hegemony violently invisibilizes valuable cultural expressions in Brazil (we are much more than just Rio and São Paulo).
On Saturday, July 14th, participants were divided into three groups, one of them destined to the historical site of Quilombo dos Palmares. This is the most famous settlement of runaway enslaved Africans in resistance to Portuguese and Dutch occupation. The trip in the yellow school bus was a celebration, everyone alternated between singing tacky songs and chanting political slogans. In Serra da Barriga, in the region of Zumbi dos Palmares (the a most famous abolitionist leader of the Quilombo), we rattled on the dirt road, up and down mountains of low vegetation, with occasional coconut trees being greeted by vultures.
It was inevitable to feel the power of that land, even though it is now structured somewhat like a theme park. Each step seemed to lift a centuries-old combative memory, as if it were dust that instead of obfuscating, made our political purpose even clearer. The sight from above the mountain almost placed us in the bodies of the men and women who settled there 400 years ago, and in the strategic awareness of being able to see enemies from afar without being seen.
At the end of the visit, many of us swam in the small pastel green lagoon where Quilombolas “fed their souls”.
When we returned to the university in União dos Palmares, we attended presentations of works, some of which would later be awarded. One of them addressed the importance of sex education in schools for students between 11 and 15 years of age. The interests of the children revolved around the themes of masturbation, puberty and menstruation. The presenter showed that sex is still a taboo between teachers and principals. When we see how common it is for 13 to 15 year old girls to become pregnant, the importance of overcoming this taboo and addressing this issue is revealed as undeniably urgent.
The importance of history was emphasized when we recognized that Brazil has a memory problem. A presentation on the Araguaia Guerrilla discussed the perpetuation of violence, decades after the battle, when the crimes of the resistance are judicially equated with those of the oppressors. She also brought up the subject of female particularities when it comes to the practice of torture during the Brazilian “dictatorship” (Military regime of 1964-1985), and the question of using the term “dictatorship” as it is used by the bourgeois democracy to defend its contemporary dictatorial policies.
In general, there was a lot of repetition of terms such as “postmodernist,” “opportunistic,” “immobilist,” and scientific Marxism, without refined definitions and contextualizations. This alienated certain students who did not identify as Marxist, and gave little opening for participants to disagree. Even the final votes were bizarrely homogeneous, perhaps not only because there was consensus, but also because going against the group would be intimidating.
For the bourgeoisie and petit bourgeoisie, inaccessibility is the charm. With them there is no dialogue, there is combat. Fighting the idea that “a lie told once remains a lie but a lie told a thousand times becomes the truth” (Goebbels) also means recognizing that there are different perspectives on reality, and not just a truth that belongs to scientific socialists. Occasional failures to recognize this have resulted in certain unfortunate affirmations, such as one on the mysticism of “primitive” communities, and superficial and unnecessary approaches towards dialectical materialism.
Even so, it was stated that the science we see today in the academy serves the Capital. Scientific knowledge of the people, be it indigenous, black or peasant, is appropriated by the ruling class and patented. We have to bring science back to the people, by preserving traditional indigenous education, for example. To one of the speakers, the “Indigenous problem” is a class problem, not a white supremacy problem; It is a struggle for land and survival. It would be interesting to have more Indigenous and Quilombola groups in the coming events, so much so that it was decided that the theme of the 23rd FoNEPe (National Forum of Pedagogical Entities) will be “education that serves indigenous, peasant and Quilombola communities”, next year in Juazeiro, Bahia.
At the end, the farewells were warm, since during the week we cultivated great affection for each other. There was room for self-criticism and growth, and the socio-political potential of the event is undeniable. We are all excited about the next ENEPe (39th) that will take place in Guarulhos, São Paulo, with the theme “defending the public school against privatization.”
is co-editor of Gods&Radicals, and writes about decoloniality and anti-capitalism.
“Folk magic belongs to the poor and dispossessed wherever that may be. It doesn’t belong to any one people, isn’t black magic or white magic. It’s magic for the everyday. It’s the magic of the people.”
From Emma Kathryn
Folk magic is as old as time. Sometimes I wonder if magic is the right term, for the practises may not seem magical in themselves alone, and I suppose it depends on your own definition of what magic is. For example, is knowing where to find plants and their practical applications magic? I would say so, but you may not. But whether you believe in magic or not, these practises have their uses in everyday life.
Folk magic was often used by those who could not afford otherwise. When doctors were too expensive or too far away, it was the local wise woman who would be called upon for medicines made from local herbs, treating illness, unwanted pregnancy and what ever ailed the local community. People turned to folk magic when there was no one or nothing else that could help them.
Occultishly speaking, some might say that folk magic is simple, that it is low magic, and perhaps it is, but that does not take away its effectiveness.
Folk magic belongs to the poor and dispossessed wherever that may be. It doesn’t belong to any one people, isn’t black magic or white magic. It’s magic for the everyday. It’s the magic of the people.
I practise witchcraft and my particular flavour, as I’ve no doubt mentioned before, is a mixture of Traditional British witchcraft (non-Wiccan), Obeah and Vodou. A right mixture, I know, but as far apart as they may seem from one another, what makes them so compatible is that many of the practises from each tradition can be described as folk magic.
Each one of those practises, individually makes use of plant knowledge and lore, of connection to the land, of singing and chanting and the power of words, of actions and of nature.
Did you ever read American Gods by Neil Gaiman? Bloody great book, and the series was okay too, but I always thought, and think now, that the message might have been lost (or perhaps I read into it too deeply, or perhaps I just saw the truth in it, because the best stories are true, if only to themselves).
Throughout the book, the protagonist discovers the reality of the old Gods and comes to be involved with their struggle with the new, modern Gods. The one the protagonist doesn’t really get or understand is the buffalo that appears to him. Turns out the buffalo is The Land, or at least a physical representation of the land.
What I took from that novel, the truth I saw within it, is that the land is always there. It doesn’t matter whether you believe in many Gods, one God, none, or maybe you’re unsure, it doesn’t matter because the land is there. It is connection to the land at the very core of folk magic. It is changing with the seasons. It is knowing what plant is used for what. It’s about cooking from scratch with real food. It is about getting back to basics. And it doesn’t matter where in the world you are or where you are from, if the land is where your ancestors hail from or not, wherever you are, you can connect to the land beneath your feet.
I believe that we can incorporate and use folk magic practises in our everyday lives, and in doing so loosen the grip Capitalism has on us. Don’t think this is an outright attack, a fight to the end. Instead see it as becoming less reliant on the State. Think of it as chipping away. If it were a fight, then folk magic would be the equivalent of footwork and body movement rather than the knock out blow, but the footwork and the body movement put the fighter in the right place at the right moment to land that power punch.
Also, it’s important to realise that this doesn’t mean you must refrain from all aspects of modern life, but in learning these things, and learning them in a way that is relevant for today, it gives us those tools, the knowledge and skill set if you should ever need it in the future.
And maybe you might just find that you actually enjoy doing it.
So what is folk magic? What I’m going to share from here on out are all things that I myself do. Everything is from my own experiences and I offer them here to you, fellow seekers.
I love nothing more than to be out in nature and foraging is an excellent way to do just that. Working with plants is probably the core of my folk practise, and that’s solely because plants can be used for so many things.
But before working with plants, you need to be able to identify them properly. A good identification guide is a must, one that shows detailed pictures of the whole flower, the petal and the leaf. And then you’ll need to get out and about where you live. Look at what grows there. Identify it. Research its uses. Harvest it. Dry it. It is quite easy and extremely enjoyable when you get going, but you do have to make an effort to get out.
A couple of words on foraging responsibly: Firstly, never decimate an area, after all, it will be in your interest to make sure there will be a plentiful supply next year; also remember we don’t inhabit the land alone, so leave more than enough for the creatures that rely on it for food and shelter.
I’ve already hinted that plants can be used for medicine. Whenever I write about this, sometimes people think I’m saying very ill people should stop taking their medication – I’m not. But that said, for many common illnesses there are natural remedies. When you take cough medicine, or cold medicine, or headache tablets, these types of medication don’t actually make you better, but rather soothe the symptoms of whatever ails you. Big pharma is big business, and you can save your hard-earned cash by not buying these kinds of product, or relying on them less often.
The first thing is to learn of the medical applications of the trees and plants where you live, for example white willow is the precursor to aspirin and grows along rivers.
When it comes to a lot of plants, they are both medicine and food. Teas are a good way to hydrate and will have different properties depending on the plant used. Use dry or fresh flower heads or leaves and steep for a few minutes in hot water before straining and drinking.
Then there’s decoctions, which are made by adding plant matter to water, then boiling until only half of the liquid remains. Tinctures are made by steeping plant matter in alcohol such as vodka, rum, or my own particular favourite, brandy. Some of the plant oils are not water-soluble, however alcohol extracts them and so the plant’s goodness is drawn into the alcohol. Both tinctures and decoctions can be taken as medicines to ease symptoms including sore throats, coughs and colds. They can also be taken , a spoonful a day, as a health tonic.
Poultices can be used for a variety of minor ailments, including spots, aches and pains, eczema and so on. A poultice can contain so many things depending on what is needed, can be warm or cold, and are typical held against the skin , bandaged in placed and changed regularly.
Witchcraft and Paganism continue to become ever more commercialised, and in the process, causes harm to people, animals and the environment, like commercialisation of anything generally does.
Returning to folk magic means that we can resist, if only in some small part, that which goes against what we believe.
Right now where I live, so many of the plants I use in my own practise are ready to pick. Mugwort and wormwood are just beginning to bloom, and the Datura is flowering. I love datura. It is a night-blooming plant, and has large creamy trumpet-shaped flowers that smell better than roses. When the flowers die back, large spikey seed pods grow big and round, finally rupturing and spilling their seeds onto the ground below.
I make ointments with all of those plants and use them in meditation, to induce lucid dreaming and other such practises. But, used carefully and always with respect, these ointments can be used to ease muscular pain as well as arthritis and other conditions. When using such plants, you must always take into account your own health and any medical conditions you may have.
And it’s not just those exotic, almost stereotypical witches plants that can be used either. Flowers including honeysuckle, roses, marigolds, lavender, and so many other common plants can be used in many witchcraft and / or folk practices. Think about making your own incense blends instead of buying. Leave offerings of flowers and seeds instead of tying ribbons to trees or leaving resin statues and the like.
But folk magic is more than medicine and food, though these issues are very important. Folk magic is about connecting to and working with the land and the spirits that abide there. I am an animist and I see everything in the natural world as having a soul, a spirit. Connecting with that spirit is an important part of my practise, and all of the things described above, going out foraging and working with plants, adds to and builds upon that connection.
Folk magic is also about taking our cues from nature. Today we are so disconnected from the natural cycles and rhythms. We go to work all year round in climate controlled shops, offices and factories. We can eat whatever we like, no matter the season. We’ve lost touch with nature and folk magic is about getting that back.
So go out and connect with where you live. Whether you practise magic or not, whether you believe or not is irrelevant, for the benefits getting back to the land offer will be for all who make the effort. Rediscovering folk magic will give you another tool in your arsenal to use in your fight against the Capitalist State.
My name is Emma Kathryn, an eclectic witch, my path is a mixture of traditional European witchcraft, voodoo and obeah, a mixture representing my heritage. I live in the middle of England in a little town in Nottinghamshire, with my partner, two teenage sons and two crazy dogs, Boo and Dexter. When not working in a bookshop full time, I like to spend time with my family outdoors, with the dogs. And weaving magic, of course!You can follow Emma on Facebook.
“Let us call to them to enter into, as is Their mandate, this iteration of the never-ending fight against the Powers of Wrongness; the stealing and imprisoning of children. Send down Your power to help us stand for Right Action.”
From Judith O’Grady
At our MidSummer Ritual, the Deities addressed are Archetypical Seasonal Personifications rather than Deities of a specific Pantheon. They are the Oak King, Warrior for Right and for the Powerless (a modern analogy is King Arthur), and His Warrior-Band Leader, a sort of Joan-of-Ark figure without the visions and eventual burning-at-stake (Scáthach, if you’re familiar with Irish lore).
In the wake of recent news and responding to a Sending from the Gods, I made some changes.
This is how it came about:
I was in the depths of Morning Meditation (dozing) and the thought came into my head that our Druid Grove doesn’t have a specific processional for MidSummer (this is one of my ongoing projects). Suddenly my head was singing a protest song from my teen years (I was in the March on Washington in 1967).
“Hardly appropriate to Longest Day.” I thought.
…more singing, with Fierceness added. I listened harder.
“O, You have volunteers for the fight against the caging of children….. I see.”
Our processional song is now ‘Like a Tree Standing by the Water, We Shall Not be Moved’ with some new topical couplets in the verses. I also changed the Statement of Purpose:
Guiding Druid: Why are we here?
All: We are here to honour the Gods!
Guiding Druid: As our ancestors once did, so do we do today, and so will our children do in the future. This is the Holiday of Midsummer.
Come in good faith and with strong and open hearts for the Ritual of the Longest Day!
This is the time of Greatest Light, let it shine into our lives!
This is the triumph of the Oak King, Warrior for the powerless, Protector of the oppressed. He rides into battle; the Warrior Maiden, his War-Leader, at His side.
Together they ride the turning wheel up into brightness.
Let us call to them to enter into, as is Their mandate, this iteration of the never-ending fight against the Powers of Wrongness;
the stealing and imprisoning of children.
Send down Your power to help us stand for Right Action.
Unlock the cage doors, this sorrow vanquished with this day’s battle won.
Let their light shine into our lives today and always!
Bíodh sé amhlaidh!
All: Bíodh sé amhlaidh!
I re-wrote the in-ritual invocation and thanks a little:
Will the Oak King and the Warrior Maid also come?
Druids of the Occasion:
Triple, Triple, flow and ripple,
Praise and Honour; not a mickle
The Gates are open, as You see-
Cross here, with Fire, Well, and Tree
Without the Gods we fail and wither;
With thanks and love we ask Them hither.
Oak King’s Druid:
King of Summer, Mighty Oak,
Your triumph is the Longest Day!
Strong, You help the weaker folk.
Bright, You shine to point the way.
Shine Your brightness, we invoke;
Here, where we have come today.
Praises to You rise up like smoke,
And Offerings in glad array.
Warrior maid’s Druid:
Lead us victorious through the heat,
Warrior Maid, to Harvest Home.
Even cold in Winter’s deep,
As Your kerns we’re not alone.
You know the tiredness of Duty,
The loneliness of standing guard;
Let it all resolve in Beauty-
Led home by You, the way unbarred.
This is Your time, green and warm,
To bring all things to their fruition.
Your mighty tasks You will perform,
And we will send You our petition.
*suitable offerings are made*
The Deities of the Holiday are thanked:
All that comes will surely pass,
Thank You for coming here today.
We, to you, are blades of grass,
We will go and You will stay.
Warriors, we thank you both;
Bold and sharp! Nevertheless,
You will help us, nothing loath,
‘Gainst the Powers of Wrongness.
But the biggest change was to add a Working, which in this case is an invocation to the ghosts of historical killings and a call to the Gods for intervention:
Now do the strong oppress the weak.
Rise again, Drogheda’s shadows,
No kingdom’s given to the meek.
And there are lies to be exposed.
The echo of history will ring,
Ghosts created at Culloden,
And ephemeral warriors bring,
To right wrongs done by evil men.
St Louis, ship of souls, sail on;
Now is the time for a crusade.
Come, whole and sound, from where you’ve gone,
Your memory has not decayed.
Powerful men have called up war,
To be waged on little children.
Memories! Clans!Allies and more,
All Beings for Good from now and then!
Bring Mighty Voices, even the odds,
I call Holy Fire down, Gods.
In my belief system the invocation for action on the part of humans changes the enforcement of the Second Precept (‘EveryBeing has Free Will’) to allow more direct action on people by the Gods. I am, to a certain extent, abrogating my free will to the use of the Gods but also I believe that more manipulation of events is available after invocation. So even though I no longer an American citizen, have no representatives, and cannot think of what I can do to help or change, the Gods will act on my request. And, I am sure, the petitions of many other saddened people like myself.
Bíodh sé amhlaidh!
Which is, roughly translated, ‘Let it be so!’ and is our Grove’s ‘Amen’.
is an elderly Druid (Elders are trees, neh?) living on a tiny urban farm in Ottawa, Canada. She speaks respectfully to the Spirits, shares her home and environs with insects and animals, and fervently preaches un-grassing yards and repurposing trash (aka ‘found-object art’).
‘Our connection with the source, with the divine, is lost, when water is piped to our taps from unknown sources. We’re more likely to think of water companies and bills in terms of payment rather than offering back to the deities of our watercourses above ground and to their source in the deep’
From Lorna Smithers
Water. Dŵr. H2O. The mysterious source of life brought to Earth by comets 4.6 billion years ago. Water covers 71% of the Earth’s surface, creating her marble sheen of oceanic blue, decked with green continents and swirling white cloud. 96.5% of all the Earth’s water is salt water in the oceans. Of freshwater 1.74% is in the ice caps, glaciers and permanent snow, 1.69% is ground water, 0.022% is ground ice and permafrost, 0.013% is in lakes, 0.001% is in the atmosphere, 0.001% is soil moisture, 0.0008% is swamp water, 0.0002% is in rivers, and 0.0001% is in living creatures.
A minuscule percentage of the Earth’s freshwater provides for the needs of life. Globally, humans consume 4 trillion cubic metres per year. Yearly, in the UK, industry and commerce consume 1300 million and a standard household 164 cubic metres. Each day the average person uses 150 litres. Only 2 litres of this are drinking water whilst a bath takes 115 litres, a shower 50 litres, a washing machine 50 litres, a dishwasher 15 litres, flushing the toilet 10 litres, washing up in the sink 6 litres, a watering can 5 litres, a hosepipe 15 litres per minute. When there are 65.64 million people in the UK that’s a heck of a lot of water.
I was called to investigate these figures because of the prolonged and uncharacteristic heat wave we are experiencing in the UK. Preston has been dubbed ‘the wettest city in England’ and we usually have 60 – 80mm of rainfall per month over the summer. Since the beginning of May it’s barely rained. My local brook, Fish House Brook, and the river Ribble are the lowest I have ever seen. United Utilities have advised people in the North West to cut down on water use and I’m certain a hosepipe ban will follow and possibly further restrictions if we don’t see rain in the next couple of weeks.
I’ve found myself amazed that, in the absence of rain, our demands can still be catered for, that our rivers and streams are flowing at all. This has brought to mind the massive amounts of water contained within the land, out of sight, forming the source of the watercourses we see on the surface.
II. The Source
In modern Welsh the word for water is dŵr stemming ‘from Middle Welsh dwfyr, from Proto-Brythonic *duβr, from Proto-Celtic *dubros, from Proto-Indo-European *dʰubrós (‘deep’)’. Etymologically it is linked with Annwfn, ‘the Deep’, the Otherworld, from which Britain’s waters originate along with Awen, the divine breath of inspiration, which inspires bards and awenyddion.
In ‘The Hostile Confederacy’ in The Book of Taliesin the legendary bard speaks of bringing Awen from the deep as ‘a connected river which flows around the world’ and says he knows ‘its might’, ‘how it ebbs… flows… courses… retreats’. In other poems he refers to the ‘streams of Annwn’ and a river near the otherworld fortress of Caer Vandwy called the Defwy, which may be linked with the Dovey. The Tawe also has an otherworldly source. Annwn is the land to which the dead return to be reborn, often by following or crossing watercourses. There are parallels in other Western European myths.
In Norse mythology ‘all waters rise’ from Hvergelmir,‘Boiling Bubbling Spring’. This is located in Niflheim ‘Mist-World’ at the very bottom of one of the roots of Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Eleven of the rivers, the Elvigar ‘Ice Waves’ are named: ‘Svol, Gunnthra, Fiorm, Fimbulthul, Slidr and Hrid, Sylg and Ylg, Vid, Leiptr; Gioll is next to Hell-gates’. Hvergelmir is said to contain innumerable snakes and the serpent Níðhöggr who gnaws the root and ‘torments the bodies of the dead’.
In Plato’s Phaedo rivers and streams flow into and out of Tartarus, ‘the inmost depth beneath the earth’. They are named Oceanus ‘Ocean’, Acheron ‘Woe’, Pyriphlegethon ‘Fire-Flaming’, and Cocytus ‘Lamentation’, and carry the dead to the regions beneath Hades to do penance with the Titans.
III. On Tap
These myths speak from a time before piped water when our ancestors were called to contemplate daily the origination of water from mysterious springs and ever-flowing watercourses. When each source of water had its own deity. Some of the names of our river gods and goddesses are still recorded today: Belisama (the Ribble), Sabrina (the Severn), Clutha (the Clyde), Nodens/Nudd, (the Nith, Neath, Nidd). The qualities of well spirits are reflected in those of the saints they are rededicated to.
Our connection with the source, with the divine, is lost, when water is piped to our taps from unknown sources. We’re more likely to think of water companies and bills in terms of payment rather than offering back to the deities of our watercourses above ground and to their source in the deep.
Because water is literally ‘on tap’ we use it thoughtlessly and wastefully. As the population increases and our watercourses are destroyed and depleted by industrialisation, water is being hailed as ‘the new oil’ ‘a finite resource that is running out in some areas and will become more and more expensive.’
Over the past few years there has been a call to examine our ‘water footprint’ – the volume of water we use. This does not just mean drinking and wash water but water used in processes, which we are again out of touch with, such as growing and rearing animals for food and the manufacture of clothing and equipment. In terms of ‘virtual water’ the production of a pound of beef requires 9500 litres, cheese 3391 litres, eggs 2169 litres, chocolate 10777 litres (!), rice 1525 litres, wheat bread 582 litres, potatoes 113 litres, tomatoes 83 litres, lettuce 57 litres, wine 219 litres, beer 136 litres, coffee 110 gal, tea 26 litres. Leather shoes require 16655 litres, jeans 10848 litres, a dress 7498 litres, a T-shirt 2153 litres, boxer shorts 953 litres and women’s underwear 325 litres. The virtual water content of objects such as laptops, mobile phones, televisions, radios, cars is more complicated to calculate.
With virtual water added the average Briton uses a whopping 4,645 litres a day. To make things worse, most of this is from food and goods imported from other countries where water is depleted, water sources are being destroyed, and people who are poorer than us are suffering because of our excesses.
This is another example of our ignorance of the source of our water, not this time in the Otherworld’s depths, but in other lands across the seas where others (human and non-human) are exploited.
As a remedy for our lack of knowlege we might ask questions. Where does my water come from? How much do I use when I bathe, when I wash, with each meal and drink? Who profits and who suffers?
Some of these have been easier for me to answer than others. My domestic water consumption is easy. I use around 100 litres of water. One shower: 50 litres, one clothes wash divided by three: 16 litres, two kitchen sink washes divided by three: 4 litres, three toilet flushes (we’re trying to stick to just the essential ones!): 30 litres. Virtual water is more difficult without being able to find measures for, say, one egg, one slice of bread, one serving of cucumber. As an average meat-eater consumes 5000 litres and a vegetarian 2500 litres and I’m a meat-eater trying cut down on meat I’d say it’s 4000 litres. We (I live with my parents) do most of our shopping at Booths, a supermarket which supports local farmers, and do our best to stick to locally grown products rather than those imported from overseas. I buy most of my clothes from charity shops, partly because I can’t afford new ones, partly to avoid feeding exploitative systems.
The question of where my water comes from has been more difficult to answer. The North West’s water provider is United Utilities and all they are willing to tell us is that our water comes from ‘upland sources, groundwater sources and river sources’. This could mean it comes from anywhere!
When piped water was introduced to Preston by the Preston Waterworks Company in 1835 it came from newly built reservoirs at Grimsargh. These are no longer in use and in 2017 were handed over to the Grimsargh Wetlands Trust. Our nearest reservoirs are Longridge, Horns, and Barn’s Fold. Anglezarke and Rivington are also nearby but it’s likely supply Chorley rather than Preston and South Ribble.
As for rivers I live near the Ribble estuary so presume water may be taken from the Ribble and its tributaries. In relation to ground water sources we are situated on a primary aquifer, ‘the North West’s most important aquifer’. According to the ‘Central Lancashire and Blackpool Outline Water Cycle Study’ there are boreholes in Penwortham and Preston at undisclosed locations.
I’ve had a similar lack of success finding information about our sewage. Preston’s combined sewers were built in the 1870s and there are maps of them in the Lancashire Archives. But finding anything post 1950s is absolutely impossible as United Utilities have the monopoly and will only sell maps for specific properties to property owners at £16.41 for A4, £29.16 for A3 and £85.17 for A1. I have been told our sewage goes to the treatment works at Clifton Marsh, but been refused a map of the whole system. Likewise maps of one’s water pipes are available at the above prices, but not the whole system.
It’s my suspicion this is not only due to United Utilities wanting to make money from selling the maps, but a need for secrecy. As the population grows, climate change brings droughts and floods, and industrialisation continues to damage our watercourses and aquifers and lower the water table, water shortages are going to become more common. When water becomes ‘the new oil’ United Utilities will need to keep the sources of water and the locations of pipes and sewers secret due to fears about theft and acts of terrorism.
A dark thought as I finish this article and take a sip of tea, a sip taken for granted, but for how long?
is a poet, author, awenydd, and Brythonic polytheist. She is currently exploring how our ancient British myths relate to our environmental and political crises and dreaming new stories. As a devotee of Gwyn ap Nudd, a ruler of Annwn, she seeks to reweave the ways between the worlds. She has published two books: Enchanting the Shadowlands and The Broken Cauldron, and edited and co-edited A Beautiful Resistance. She blogs at ‘Signposts in the Mist‘.
“The Spirit of the Depths had shown me how to awaken the dead,
How to bring forth the lost memories of the dream world,
How to touch the primordial power
That I thought I had banished from the world,
When I filled the womb of the gods with blood.
For the well beneath the tree is the well of dreams.”
From Ramon Elani
“The wheel of time cannot be turned back. Things can, however, be destroyed and renewed. This is extremely dangerous, but the signs of our times are dangerous too. If there was ever a truly apocalyptic era, it is ours. God has put the means for a universal holocaust into the hands of men.”
“The shadow is nonsense. It lacks force and has no continued existence through itself. But nonsense is the inseparable and undying brother of the supreme meaning.”
I am a man of extraordinary violence.
I am the one who roars in the heart of battle.
I am the At-Rider, who drives down my foe.
I am the Evil Worker, the Man of the Spear.
I ride forth.
I am the one of Gaping Frenzy.
I drive men to madness.
I am the Resounder.
I am the Master of Slaughter.
I am the One Who is Merry in War.
I am the Hanging God.
I am the bringer of Runes.
I am the War Father.
I slew my father,
He Who Existed Before Time,
The First Being,
The undifferentiated consciousness,
The Slumbering God,
Substance and spirit of the cosmos.
He was beyond good and evil,
Though he was grim and terrible.
How he howled in the abyss of night.
What memories drifted and floated through his mind?
In a somnolent universe, what did he dream?
Will, Thought, and Spirit arose in fierce arms.
With my brothers I sundered him and split him.
And his blood drowned the world,
It spilled over from the Yawning Gap,
It drenched the stars.
And a shining fragment of ice,
The Primal Cosmic Egg,
The heart of ice,
The pattern of all things,
The bridge between the seen and unseen,
Burned through the fabric of the world.
And the ice poured into the Realm of Mist,
And there his kin grew strong and proud.
And upon those frozen plateaus
A lost kernel was buried in ice
And its power dripped between the worlds
And formed a well beneath the Tree.
For god is in the egg.
I have Nine Twigs,
I see beyond the nine worlds,
And into the endless cycles of time.
I have seen the devastation that will come,
I have seen the vision of the Wolf that will come for me.
The Wolf is always there in the darkened forests of my mind.
I know that he is my ruin and doom.
I know that he will bring blood and fire upon the world.
And I know that I will see the world born again in water.
The Gods are not immune to fate.
I follow my destiny.
I am the Son and the Father,
I am the Cold Sky,
I am the Wanderer and Deceiver.
Those who wander do not remember.
I seek my shadow.
He is the damp and the moist,
The One beneath the dirt,
He is the sacrifice and I am the blade.
In the hollow beneath the tree,
He remembers everything
For he sits by the pool
That is fed from waters that flow
From that savage realm.
I have forgotten,
The world lives through forgetting.
But he who dwells among the mosses and dripping roots,
He alone carries the memories of what I destroyed.
My hoary uncle,
Lost in an infinity of dreams.
And I went down to him,
From my golden palaces and joyful battles.
I went down beneath the tree.
And I found him there lost in his endless wisdom.
I went down
To become whole,
To repair the gaping wound,
To atone for rending the world.
As I had climbed the tree,
As I had hung myself from the branch,
As I had pierced myself with spear,
As I had gone up
To gain the power of the Runes,
To gain the power to bind,
To create order,
The fire of the sea and the path of the snake,
The horror of the clouds,
The ruin of the harvest,
The Cliff-Dwelling horror,
The Home of Mortification,
The grain that brings famine,
The Grief of the humanity,
The rivers of ice,
And the destroying Sun,
The One Handed God of Temples,
The adornment of ships,
The iron that bends.
As I went up for these things,
So I knew I must go down to complete myself.
For chaos must join order.
My ancient uncle made me look into the murky waters of the well.
And in the well,
I saw rage unconquerable,
I saw power ungovernable,
I saw a consciousness unreasonable,
I saw a force unstoppable.
And I knew that I was blind,
I could not see myself,
Could not see the way.
I knew what I had rejected,
The spirit of the womb.
Among the clouds and winds, the lord of the sky,
I had lost the earth,
The body of my father, who was also my mother,
In the landscape I had carved in his bones,
This truth was written.
The truth was etched into the mountains,
Into the fjords,
Into the forests,
Into the rivers,
Into the glaciers.
But I could not read it,
For I could only read the runes,
The language of artifice and doom.
I could not longer read the words of the world below.
And therein dwelt my weakness.
I had made myself strong
Only with the power of heaven.
I knew that I was spirit without body,
And the spirit is nothing on its own,
But my destiny is to walk both paths,
To walk in two worlds,
To walk in all the worlds at once.
And so I begged my uncle to drink from his well.
And I learned the Nine Songs,
And what my uncle requested,
I gave him.
And I took my hand and raised it to my face,
And my fingers dug into my skull,
And I ripped my eye from my face,
And the world became all blood,
And the tree shuddered above me,
And the gods wept,
And tears of blood dripped into my beard.
My grim uncle took the quivering eye in his hand
And he cast it deep into the well.
And I fell upon my knees
And I plunged my fingers into the rich, wet dirt
And I screamed
As the cosmos became one
Within my shattered mind.
And I saw stars exploding,
Galaxies being born,
I saw the dragon stirring.
I saw everything that had ever been and would be.
I felt fate burning me.
I saw that all my knowledge,
Was nothing more than an attempt
To impose something knowable
Onto a universe that defied me.
Or had defied me.
Then I understood,
That all my wandering had led me back to myself,
Back to this madness.
How far must a star travel through space
Before it finds the part of itself
That it once thought lost?
As my soul came together,
The child came forward:
The knowledge that transcends knowledge.
The meaning that surpasses meaning.
That which can only be achieved through
The cosmic union.
The Spirit of the Depths had arisen within me.
And for all my rune might
I could not teach it,
I could not share it,
It was mine to bear alone.
The Spirit of the Depths had shown me how to awaken the dead,
How to bring forth the lost memories of the dream world,
How to touch the primordial power
That I thought I had banished from the world,
When I filled the womb of the gods with blood.
For the well beneath the tree is the well of dreams.
And in my dreams was the only path of truth.
And a thousand voices spoke to me,
And I heard the destiny of time,
That will outlast the longest night.
And my Sun became darkened
And my Moon rose on the horizon of my consciousness.
And as I had once lost everything
Upon that gallows tree,
So I lost everything again,
Beside the well of dreams.
For I am the God that is to come,
I am the God that is becoming.
And my uncle smiled gently,
For he knew as well as I,
That his destiny was to die for me,
Though his kin would survive the great destruction of the world.
He smiled patiently, lovingly,
And he showed me the horn from which he drank,
The horn that signaled the end of things,
The end of my power,
The time when the wolf within me
Would step out of the shadows and engulf me utterly.
And my uncle touched my arm,
For long before the time of the wolf
He would be cut down
And his head severed from his body
And I would use my charms and herbs
Upon it and keep it with me always.
It’s coming now, it’s coming soon.
The world of dreams will swallow up this rotten thing.
Our lives and struggles
Occur as so much flotsam
Upon a sea of unfathomable depth.
Sometimes gracefully, sometime fully of woe,
We float, dreamless, through a galaxy of powers.
Countless pasts and futures, overlaid upon each other.
The world we walk through is part ruin and part verdant growth.
Cycles, which, though we may long to escape, shall never end.
The world drives itself to its doom, unrelenting.
I have given up separating dreams from wakefulness.
I have abandoned the task of assigning truth to one,
And illusion to the other.
Give me deep and muddy waters.
“Without a mother, one cannot love. Without a mother, one cannot die.”—Hermann Hesse
Ramon Elani holds a PhD in literature and philosophy. He is a teacher, a poet, a husband, and a father, as well as a muay thai fighter. He wanders in oak groves. He casts the runes and sings to trolls. He lives among mountains and rivers in Western New England
More of his writing can be found here.You can also support him on Patreon.
Sophia Burns argues that opportunism comes not from bad ideas, but from practical and contextual needs.
Three weeks ago, DSA member Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez won a primary against a high-ranking Democratic congressman, earning her widespread popularity among leftists around the country.
Last week, many of those same leftists were horrified to see her walk back her previous criticism of Israel’s occupation of Palestine. During an interview, a PBS journalist brought up the killing of dozens of protesters by Israeli soldiers in May, which Ocasio-Cortez had called “a massacre” with “no justification.” When the interviewer claimed that “of course the dynamic there in terms of geopolitics and the Middle East is very different from people expressing their First Amendment right to protest,” Ocasio-Cortez answered, “Well, yes,” and promised to “learn and evolve” on the issue.
Why did Ocasio-Cortez’s unequivocal stance soften, bringing it in line with the standard Democratic position? After all, her district is so overwhelmingly Democratic that whoever wins the primary, wins the office – she has no need to moderate for the general election. So, why the shift in her position?
Where do opportunistic ideas come from?
According to the cybernetician, the purpose of a system is what it does. This is a basic dictum. It stands for bald fact, which makes a better starting point in seeking understanding than the familiar attributions of good intention, prejudices about expectations, moral judgment, or sheer ignorance of circumstances.
Bernie Sanders made his name winning against a series of Democrats in Burlington, VT in the 80s. So why did he become a Democrat in all but name, supported by the Vermont Democratic Party and supporting it in return, starting in 1990?
SYRIZA, the Greek socialist party, came to power in 2015 on an anti-austerity platform. Why did it go on to implement those same austerity policies once in office?
The purpose of a system is what it does. A political organization is a complex system. To understand it, you can’t take its stated goals at face value. Its choices don’t simply follow from its ideas.
Instead, its internal dynamics interact with the demands of its external circumstances to create its strategic attitude – the general stance it takes towards other political actors, the framework within which it makes decisions. That doesn’t exist at the level of conscious ideology. Instead, it forms the taken-for-granted assumptions about what doing politics entails. Whatever ideology it follows in words matters less than the guiding assumptions embodied in a strategic attitude. By and large, a party’s official philosophy is just the particular language it uses to justify its choices post hoc – ideas are not the basis on which organizations make decisions. The internal and external pressures and feedback loops that do form that basis all operate regardless of its claimed ideology. Blue Dog Democrats and Green Party members might wave different protest signs, but politics means voting and going to rallies for them both.
So, why did Sanders become a Democrat?
His “movement” was centered around his career as an individual politician. During the 80s, being an independent allowed him to defeat city-level Democratic competitors. But then, when he ran first for governor and then for Congress in ’86 and ’88, the experience of losing taught him that he needed the Party’s support to advance beyond local office. So, he formed a “special working relationship” with the Vermont Democrats because he needed to. However, he never recanted his third-partyist ideas. Rather, he used them to justify his choices by continuing to nominally self-identify as an independent.
SYRIZA, on the other hand, arose in the midst of a years-long recession, during which the European Union forced Greece to implement harsh cuts to social services in exchange for needed cash bailouts. But, that provoked a massive protest response – young Greeks, with heavy anarchist and Marxist participation, took to the public squares of Athens, camping out and fighting the police. SYRIZA successfully channeled their anger into electoral politics, but that tied them to the viability of the Greek state and its institutions. After all, what other mechanism did they have for exercising social power? SYRIZA didn’t have the option of sacrificing the Greek state’s well-being, even at the cost of its core principles.
When a pro-Palestine democratic socialist finds herself bound for Congress, she must accommodate herself to the program of the Democratic Party. Otherwise, without the Party’s support, where would she find the allies she’ll need to effectively push for her list of reforms? So, unable to deliver on her voters’ priorities, she’d risk being punished by them, just like her predecessor.
Opportunistic ideas come from practice.
Where does that leave revolutionaries?
Understanding why you shouldn’t be an opportunist isn’t enough. Bernie Sanders understands the bankruptcy of the two-party system – he’s built an entire personal brand around opposing it. That hasn’t kept him from taking part. Politics is made of something deeper than beliefs.
When opportunism is a viable option in terms of an organization’s internal dynamics and a useful option in terms of its external situation, then revolutionary ideas won’t fend it off. Opportunism is born from practice. Ideas play catch-up.
So, you can’t fight it just with ideas. If you don’t practice the alternative before you argue for it, then winning the debate just means you get to choose how opportunism will be justified. To win, a revolutionary orientation has to show itself, on the ground, to be at least as useful as an opportunistic one.
Ideology matters, but it lives in what you do, not in the words you say. So, you can’t win opportunists over by educating them. You have to develop a revolutionary practice. You have to show that building institutions outside of the state and against it offers a more effective road to social power than protests and elections.
Otherwise, the opportunists will have proven you wrong, instead.