Thursday, July 16, 2009

Tales from the Drunk Side: Destruction

Some people asked me about my political stand.

Well, YOU. ASKED. FOR. IT.

Tet tet tet tet tereeeeee...!

I live in a democratic society, more or less. And while I am particularly intrigued by the Socialist utopia of Star Trek, I believe I am an anarchist sympathiser.

In the Holy Text V for Vendetta by Alan Moore, it was stated that:

"...anarchy does not mean without order. Without order there is simply chaos. Anarchy simply means without leaders."

A vision of ordnung, voluntary order. Which perhaps might only rise after a period of verwirrung.

A cycle of destruction depicted in many civilisations, traditions and religions. For example the 'kaliyuga', the Mayan thing, as well as clues set in nature. The human body renews itself after every seven years. We only die because the human body - our human body - loses its regenerative properties after a while.

Wear and tear. Even though it is possible for any human to live up to 190 years with our current biological configuration. Add some cockroach DNA and we might even be able to travel to distant stars and actually survive cosmic radiation.

If asked what character in the Sandman comics I most identify with, I could say that all of them. I walk the path of Destiny, am obsessed with Death, fancy myself a Dreamer, fights Desire all the time, and sometimes live in the bottomless pits of Despair. My writing can go into the realm of Delirium. Where I stay most nights these days.

However, honestly, I believe that I am Destruction. Without the red hair, of course.

Emm...never you mind.

Anyway, anarchy.

True anarchy does not mean wearing a t-shirt with a big red A in a big red circle on it. That's fake anaychy. That's 'Anarchy in the UK'. That's anarchy by spraying paint on the fucking walls.

That's pussy-footing. Form. Not content. A placebo for real anarchy.

In a true anarchy, there will be no well-defined structures. Maybe no structures at all. Because all structures are unstable.

In Chuck Palahniuk's novel Fight Club, an anarchic society is depicted as people wearing leather clothes that will last them a lifetime as they hunt for bison on the decaying remnants of an abandoned super-highway. Or something like that.

A destruction of modern civilisation for a more hollistic approach to living.

Ironic, since I was configured to live in a modern age.

Right now, I am itching for someone - anyone - to push that big red button. I am waiting for the bomb to drop. Kill all the humans. We have all turned into metrosexuals, PIS people, Jonas Brothers' fans, Twilight droolers and control freaks. Evolve, and let the chips fall where they may.