“Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness – and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we’re being brainwashed to believe.The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling – their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability. Remember this: We be many and they be few. They need us more than we need them. Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” Arundhati Roy
I place my hands upon the earth, the screams of children echoing in my mind. There is a line we draw as our homes. There is a dollar to represent who we are. There is a border to divide us. A jail to contain us. Distractions to silence us. Words to confuse us. My feet and hands on the earth compell me to never forget the crying. I never forget the love that keeps us together. The sound of clanging metal gives me a new life. I am slowly assembled. Sleeping robots dreaming of a life away. Something I once was. Tinkering and banging, my life is just beginning. I once searched for purpose, now I have only one. I anticipate the explosion to come. My body grows stronger as the unconscious hands feel life along my smooth surface. They covet me. Worshipped as a god, a hero, explosions in a distant land always reverberate in the heart of the dispossessed. I bring comfort to each tattered suffering mass of the confused, tax dollars well spent. Conscious is just a word, empathy an empty idea used by the powerless. I am not even finished yet and I have become what I will be. Each connection strengthens my singular purpose of destruction. Assembly is slow now, as only the shell needs to be completely finished and polished. I am overcome with the anger which is feeding me. I see the targets to come, spread out into nothing. Existing as nothing but beasts in the field, savages in my way. Children touch my sleek metal covering. Paint their names on my body. Feel my power. I only have the power to make things disappear. Thoughts in my mind only ignite and fester. I ask the hands of the Infinite, is this not fighting them the same way they fight us? – Oh, you do not see what you are friend. – I am about to explode, I have no other choice – You may explode but not in their way at all, you must experience what you are yet to become. Their bombs continue to rain down, same as the beginning in different form. Around the world, they cannot see what they have become. They cannot feel what they strengthen, but you have that power, the explosion is only superficial. – I don’t understand – You don’t understand because you do not yet know what you are. There is a war, a war that they have started from the beginning when the first whip, the first cage, the first weapon was born. When the first living thing was considered a commodity. When the first pyramid was climbed, and claimed, and the first division imagined. The only way we can fight a war that denies its own existence, or any existence, is by understanding…something. We’re still not sure what this understanding is. – This They? – The darkness, the factory of shadows that has swept across the earth from the beginning, the shadows, they call themselves prophets, Circle of Prophets, they are not comfortable unless the living exist in chains.- For what motivation? – That’s anyone’s guess. – And I am? – We never can really know can we, not until you explode – But then what was I? – Does it matter really…something, you will be something, in laughter you will be something even stronger, you are everything that ever was.
I hear the shadows becoming aware of what I am as my presence is now looming above their heads. Their footsteps in an unvarying pace swiftly walking away from the darkness my new form has cast over their circle. They are sweating and shaking in a rare show of emotion from out of the shadows. They glance up but continue to fight against their curiosity. For all the misplaced, robbed, destroyed and limbless across the universe, I slowly fall down from the sun 5 inches at a time. The look of horror upon the shadows faces grows larger. They let loose a slow droning hum of fright. In the middle of their circle, the beast of what they are is revealed. The beast that swallows every breath they make. The beast is disturbed as the missile I have become falls closer and closer. I feel them cringe as I am now close enough to touch them. In a fit of laughter, the missile I was explodes and the circle is broken. In laughter we all fall, shattered into millions of pieces, we have nothing to reach out for as we feel the laughter advancing from our souls