New Thoughts on Revolution, Violence and Death
Fear is strangling change. Like the little boy who lives in the house across the street, who thinks I am a child molester because I had the nerve to smile at him, and to offer him a ride to the gas station to fix his bike's flat tire. We are not aware yet of who we are or who the strangers are. The mystery haunts us.We are afraid of revolution, we are afraid of change, we are afraid of destruction. Because we see these things as violent and only as violent. This is not true. Any artist worth his salt knows that change, that destruction, that revolution is not necessarily violent, as in mal, as in muerte, as in death. It may be furious, angry, fierce, tumultuous, etc. etc. It is never simply a murder, but a killer-creator: the angel looking in the mirror and seeing the monster; and the monster looking in the mirror and seeing the angel. But here is the problem: we are separating the one into the two. We have no choice but to see polar opposites.
For a second there I thought that if, say, we revaluated death and found it to be non-violent, well then we would eliminate the whole reason for physical violence. I mean, why kill someone if it's not going to really hurt them? And who told us that death was something that we didn't want. If we didn't want it than why do we have it? The consciousness wants to experience death. The spirit into the flesh, the flesh into the spirit. It is exquisite.
Death (does not =) violenceThat does not mean that we cannot enjoy the colors of blood, and meat with the flesh torn from it. It does not mean that we cannot enjoy the feast of death and destruction. What it means is that we can enjoy all these things more fully. That we are meant to enjoy them.
Violence (does not =) deathMy own fears are multiplied by the fears of the macrocosm. And so I try each day to thrash another one down without even looking back behind me. I do not recognize the corpses that lie by the side of the road I walk down. Though someone said that I was responsible for their condition. And yet I look at my hands and they are clean and white, there is not a speck of blood anywhere on my person.
I worry that I may be mad. But madness is anger turned inward and I would not deal myself that knife, thank you.
I turn my anger on the world. I turn my love on the world. I turn my anger into words and my love into actions. Do you understand?
I do not believe that anyone can kill anyone. I do not believe in victims, only in man's propensity toward the masochistic and the sadistic, each one fulfilling itself, like the horizontal and vertical of the crossroads (see voodoo), or like fucking.
Take me to the place where the body and spirit meet and I will show you that there is no such thing as violence. It is as much a farce as mainstream religion and it is a tool for keeping people in their place, on the horizontal planes. It is a tool for those that are afraid of change; that have become too comfortable in still waters.
Violence is the god of the 90s.