Showing posts with label occupation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label occupation. Show all posts

It is not our desire to participate in violence, but it is even less our desire to lose. (Letter of Solidarity From Cairo)


[via comrades in Egypt - please share widely]


To all those in the United States currently occupying parks, squares and other spaces, your comrades in Cairo are watching you in solidarity. Having received so much advice from you about transitioning to democracy, we thought it's our turn to pass on some advice.


Indeed, we are now in many ways involved in the same struggle. What most pundits call “The Arab Spring” has its roots in the demonstrations, riots, strikes and occupations taking place all around the world, its foundations lie in years­long struggles by people and popular movements. The moment that we find ourselves in is nothing new, as we in Egypt and others have been fighting against systems of repression, disenfranchisement and the unchecked ravages of global capitalism (yes, we said it, capitalism): a System that has made a world that is dangerous and cruel to its inhabitants. As the interests of government increasingly cater to the interests and comforts of private, transnational capital, our cities and homes have become progressively more abstract and violent places, subject to the casual ravages of the next economic development or urban renewal scheme.


An entire generation across the globe has grown up realizing, rationally and emotionally, that we have no future in the current order of things. Living under structural adjustment policies and the supposed expertise of international organizations like the World Bank and IMF, we watched as our resources, industries and public services were sold off and dismantled as the “free market” pushed an addiction to foreign goods, to foreign food even. The profits and benefits of those freed markets went elsewhere, while Egypt and other countries in the South found their immiseration reinforced by a massive increase in police repression and torture.


The current crisis in America and Western Europe has begun to bring this reality home to you as well: that as things stand we will all work ourselves raw, our backs broken by personal debt and public austerity. Not content with carving out the remnants of the public sphere and the welfare state, capitalism and the austerity­state now even attack the private realm and people's right to decent dwelling as thousands of foreclosed­upon homeowners find themselves both homeless and indebted to the banks who have forced them on to the streets.


So we stand with you not just in your attempts to bring down the old but to experiment with the new. We are not protesting. Who is there to protest to? What could we ask them for that they could grant? We are occupying. We are reclaiming those same spaces of public practice that have been commodified, privatized and locked into the hands of faceless bureaucracy , real estate portfolios, and police ‘protection’. Hold on to these spaces, nurture them, and let the boundaries of your occupations grow. After all, who built these parks, these plazas, these buildings? Whose labor made them real and livable? Why should it seem so natural that they should be withheld from us, policed and disciplined? Reclaiming these spaces and managing them justly and collectively is proof enough of our legitimacy.


In our own occupations of Tahrir, we encountered people entering the Square every day in tears because it was the first time they had walked through those streets and spaces without being harassed by police; it is not just the ideas that are important, these spaces are fundamental to the possibility of a new world. These are public spaces. Spaces for gathering, leisure, meeting, and interacting – these spaces should be the reason we live in cities. Where the state and the interests of owners have made them inaccessible, exclusive or dangerous, it is up to us to make sure that they are safe, inclusive and just. We have and must continue to open them to anyone that wants to build a better world, particularly for the marginalized, excluded and for those groups who have suffered the worst .


What you do in these spaces is neither as grandiose and abstract nor as quotidian as “real democracy”; the nascent forms of praxis and social engagement being made in the occupations avoid the empty ideals and stale parliamentarianism that the term democracy has come to represent. And so the occupations must continue, because there is no one left to ask for reform. They must continue because we are creating what we can no longer wait for.


But the ideologies of property and propriety will manifest themselves again. Whether through the overt opposition of property owners or municipalities to your encampments or the more subtle attempts to control space through traffic regulations, anti­camping laws or health and safety rules. There is a direct conflict between what we seek to make of our cities and our spaces and what the law and the systems of policing standing behind it would have us do.


We faced such direct and indirect violence , and continue to face it . Those who said that the Egyptian revolution was peaceful did not see the horrors that police visited upon us, nor did they see the resistance and even force that revolutionaries used against the police to defend their tentative occupations and spaces: by the government's own admission; 99 police stations were put to the torch, thousands of police cars were destroyed, and all of the ruling party's offices around Egypt were burned down. Barricades were erected, officers were beaten back and pelted with rocks even as they fired tear gas and live ammunition on us. But at the end of the day on the 28th of January they retreated, and we had won our cities.


It is not our desire to participate in violence, but it is even less our desire to lose.


If we do not resist, actively, when they come to take what we have won back, then we will surely lose. Do not confuse the tactics that we used when we shouted “peaceful” with fetishizing nonviolence; if the state had given up immediately we would have been overjoyed, but as they sought to abuse us, beat us, kill us, we knew that there was no other option than to fight back. Had we laid down and allowed ourselves to be arrested, tortured, and martyred to “make a point”, we would be no less bloodied, beaten and dead. Be prepared to defend these things you have occupied, that you are building, because, after everything else has been taken from us, these reclaimed spaces are so very precious.


By way of concluding then, our only real advice to you is to continue, keep going and do not stop. Occupy more, find each other, build larger and larger networks and keep discovering new ways to experiment with social life, consensus, and democracy. Discover new ways to use these spaces, discover new ways to hold on to them and never give them up again. Resist fiercely when you are under attack, but otherwise take pleasure in what you are doing, let it be easy, fun even. We are all watching one another now, and from Cairo we want to say that we are in solidarity with you, and we love you all for what you are doing.

Comrades from Cairo. 24th of October, 2011. 


You know occupations are hot again when even über-misogynist (among several things: "a form of ritualised "chosen polygamy" which he calls Halcyon, making the women bow to him and punishing their transgressions with cold showers and being shut naked on balconies") rich puddles of shit are getting into it.

"I've decided to set myself up in my office and not leave it until this crisis is over," he told the media.

May you starve.

10. To be written about fondly in history text books



Shooting the moon.  (To demand that we demand nothing, or everything, or whatever.)  The best form of "internal contradictions."

Stay strong, Milwaukee.  Pretty sure we can work out a way to simultaneously end winter - though you may have to keep global warming - and get you some ice. (Heads on their way, packed in said ice.)

Prolegomena to Any Future Philosophy



Enemy of doxa, corrupter of youth, promulgator of discomfiting intuitions. That philosophy is unpalatable to the powers that be: this is not news to Socrates and his comrades.

Today it is no philosopher in particular, but philosophy itself that is ordered to drink the hemlock, sentenced to death for corrupting the capacity of what used to be called “the University” to turn greater profits. Philosophy is convicted of impiety before capital.

The present situation at Middlesex University makes the stakes excruciatingly clear. Even “excellence”—the preferred contemporary replacement for such antiquities as learning, knowledge, or thinking—is no longer enough. Even the “ranking” of a program is no matter, nor is its contribution to the reputation of the institution. Nor does it suffice that a program should sustain itself financially, or generate revenue. The operative question is simply: could MORE revenue be generated through its elimination? Could one, for example, restructure enrollment so as to swell Work Based Learning programs that draw lucrative funding from corporate sponsors? Could one get away with simply reallocating external grant funding already secured by the Center for Research in Modern European Philosophy (reportedly some £1 million through 2016) while eliminating the expense of actually running the Center? According to administrative logic, neither the international reputation of Middlesex Philosophy nor its financial solvency have any bearing upon the verdict that it makes “no measurable contribution” to the University. According to the calculus of greed and exploitation—the calculus of capital—philosophy at Middlesex, as Alex Williams rightly puts it, is worth more dead than alive.

What lessons are we to draw from this example? And what sort of a response might those lessons entail?

We might insist that philosophy is essential to the university—that only an institution which includes it answers to an acceptable vision of what the university should be. And we might then demand of wayward administrators the reversal of an “irrational” or “unethical” decision: the restoration of philosophy to its proper place at the core of any university worthy of the name. Or, on the other hand, we might find in the termination of philosophy the expression of an essential truth about the university’s role as a modern institution: to reproduce the relation between capital and labor—through the production of cultural capital when convenient, through the excision of cultural mediation when expedient.

The era of such expediency is everywhere upon us. Discussions of “The Crisis of the Humanities” proliferate at a dizzying pace. How can we proffer more compelling accounts of “what it is that we do” to administrators looking askance at abstruse investigations no longer even regarded as charming? Can we compete on a level playing field with the verifiable results of science and engineering by drawing up lists of our recent “discoveries”? Can we compete with the profit margins of private business schools embedded in public universities by insisting upon our invaluable contributions to civil society, our production of a thoughtful citizenry? How can we account for the worth of our teaching by metrics that calculate the value of programs according to higher, rather than lower, student/instructor ratios? How can we justify our existence, our form-of-life, in short, amid the unchecked reign of bureaucrats whose moral compass is neither the novel nor the Nicomachean Ethics but the consulting firm?

To its immeasurable credit, Middlesex Philosophy offers an alternative to both indignant pleading and professionalized handwringing: concrete resistance.

The students, staff, and faculty at Middlesex have opted to intervene in “the crisis of the humanities” by taking a common space of thought and practice with the determination to hold it. What inspires is the escalation of their radicalism in response to administrative obstinacy. First they occupied a boardroom to protest the cancellation of a meeting, seeking a proper explanation for the closure of their program. The next day they took the entire building, demanding a reversal of the decision. Today a red and black flag flies over the barricaded Mansion House at Middlesex, and thinkers from around the UK and continental Europe are travelling to the occupied Trent Park campus to participate in an open program of art, philosophy, and politics events called Transversal Space.

This sequence is a prolegomena to any future philosophy.

We cannot rely upon the goodwill of administrators and their consulting firms to uphold the grand tradition of the Academy, nor to offer wildlife preserves for modes of critical reflection that assuredly do not serve the interests of their species. We will not secure “the future of the humanities” by the authority of the better argument nor through appeals to a higher good than goods. If the very capacity for philosophical activity is to survive, then by any means necessary we will have to make it unprofitable to destroy the time and space of resolutely unproductive thought. What Middlesex augurs is that the 21st century is a time in which the material conditions of any possible thinking will have to be constructed, expropriated, and defended by common force.

Kant’s project, at the core of critical modernity, was to banish dogmatism by accounting for the conditions of any possible understanding. But now it is not critical reflection but rather the dogmatic operations of capital that pose the question, quid juris?, to philosophy. To subject Kant’s critical idealism to a materialist inversion, today, is to recognize that the conditions of any possible philosophical reflection—reflection upon conditions of possible understanding, or anything else—will depend upon material powers of resistance, the construction of times, spaces, and forms of life capable of holding their own against the vacuity of philosophy’s erasure.

“The philosophers have hitherto only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.” The present crisis of the relation of philosophy to capital means that philosophers will have to change the world in order to interpret it. It is not that philosophy will be obviated by the real movement of history, the coming-into-being of communism, but rather that communization is now the pre-condition of any possible philosophy.

“In the sphere of this faculty you can determine either everything or nothing,” writes Kant in the preface to the Prolegomena. From California, to Puerto Rico, to London, to Zagreb, to Greece: We Want Everything.



Nathan Brown
English
University of California, Davis

Marija Cetinić
Comparative Literature
University of Southern California

Gopal Balakrishnan
History of Consciounsess
University of California, Santa Cruz

Aaron Benanav
History
University of California, Los Angeles

Jasper Bernes
English
University of California, Berkeley

Chris Chen
English
University of California, Berkeley

Joshua Clover
English
University of California, Davis

Maya Gonzalez
History of Consciousness
University of California, Santa Cruz

Timothy Kreiner
English
University of California, Davis

Laura Martin
History
University of California, Santa Cruz

Jason Smith
Art Center College of Design
Pasadena

Evan Calder Williams
Literature
University of California, Santa Cruz

That's to say, we would prefer not to


Over at Variant, Marina Vishmidt interviews me about the year of occupations and strikes so far, lessons de-learned, and what kind of solidarity means what kind of attack. (And me weirdly reiterating the phrase "that's to say" again and again. Barring a subtle - and false - excuse about my answers delineating themselves from the "that's to act" asserted collectively in actions that happened this year, it mostly comes down to the fact that my head has been clearer than when I responded to the questions. Oops.)

Painting the glass house black (Part Two)

[This is a placeholder for an extended set of reflections on the "occupation movement" here in California. It is the second part of an longer piece, the first part of which will be appearing on Mute. Check back here in the near future for the Mute link and the promised ramblings.]

Escape to Los Angeles


Next weekend, I'll be down in LA to lock horns at a SoCal iteration of the Continental Drift seminar taking place at the Public School. Won't be able to stick around the city for too long, but if you're there, come to this... Besides, I've got a sneaking suspicion that there will be equal parts theory and carousing. Website here, info below.

Continental Drift: Control Society/ Metamorphosis

On the weekend before the March 4th state-wide UC strike, we invite you to participatein a two-day theory convergence, a “Continental Drift” seminar with the Paris-based theorist, Brian Holmes. Past Drifts has taken a variety of forms in its manifestations at 16 Beaver (2004-2006) in New York, or through the Midwest’s radical culture corridor (2008); and here in Los Angeles it will confront a California whose infrastructure is crumbling, whose government is disfunctional, and whose public education is in crisis from the space of an autonomous education alternative.

Although this Continental Drift is situated here, in a time of occupations and walkouts, it will connect the changes occurring at our universities to the emergence of a neoliberal control society over the past few decades.

The structure of the weekend will be two-days in four parts. Most parts will be structured as participatory conversations, guided by an interlocutor; togetherwe will explore these themes.

On the first day, we try to understand the massive economic and psychological shifts that have occurred since the end of the 1960’s.

And on the second day, we will locate possible territories for resistance, autonomy, or invention. Continuing in the spirit of our collective conversations so far, we are leaving the lecture-Q&A format aside for themed discussions.

Location:

The Public School
951 Chung King Rd., Chinatown,
Los Angeles, CA 90012
February 27
12:00 Disassociation (Liz Glynn and Marc Herbst)
2.00 Financialization (Aaron Benanav and Zen Dochterman)
4.00 Occupationation/Collective Speech (Cara Baldwin, Nathan Brown, Maya Gonzalez, Evan Calder Williams)
7.00 Day 1 Discussion- Brian Holmes Facilitator
February 28
12:00 Autonomous Spaces (Hector Gallegos, Robby Herbst)
2.00 Precarity (Sean Dockray and Christina Ulke)
4.00 Brian Holmes Lecture
7.00 Sharable Territories/Bifurcation (Ava Bromberg and Jason Smith)

Organized by Zen Doctherman, Cara Baldwin, Jason Smith, Sean Dockray, Liz Glynn, Solomon Bothwell, Christina Ulke, Marc Herbst, Robby Herbst

The Continental Drift is a nomadic seminar organized collaboratively between Brian Holmes and DIY spaces. The first Drift occured at 16 Beaver in NY (2005) and has been held there and elsewhere since. The Drift is a conversation around particular elements of neoliberalism.

The Public School Los Angeles is a school with no curriculum. It is not accredited, it does not give out degrees, and it has no affiliation with the public school system. It is a framework that supports autodidactic activities, operating under the assumption that everything is in everything.

Refusal report


An interview with me and others on the California Report, talking about occupation, where to place anger, and non-acceptance of "not having a choice."

Occupied California



News from all around the way...

New York Times

CNN

Sentinel

SF Gate (and here)

IndyBay

Continued updates, of course, at OccupyCa

Occupations across the state!





Refusal and excitement spreading wide. Here in Santa Cruz, the first waves of exactly what I've been hoping to see: open occupation, expression of a general will, and the start of a long struggle with centripetal force and gravity. More updates and thoughts to follow, but news here:

http://occupyca.wordpress.com/2009/11/18/uc-santa-cruz-re-occupied/

http://uclaresists.blogspot.com/

http://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2009/11/18/18629144.php

http://www.indybay.org/newsitems/2009/11/18/18629134.php

http://www.santacruzsentinel.com/ci_13821459

Openings out of fought closures

A thought, following the library study-in this weekend (and what to me was remarkable, namely a self-constituting group that formed out of a disparate collection of a couple hundred, a group that recognized our numbers, composition, and potential force, and asserted ourselves through mass argument, a channeling of palpable excitement at the prospect of such an emergent formation, and the clear-eyed recognition of where we stood and how we appear).

It's one thing to struggle to close off and hold a space against those who may try to enter and remove you. It's a whole other, and far more powerful, thing to insist on not closing that space but to hold that space open to others, to be enough of a mass to assert not just the capacity to shut down but to use better. The endpoint is not barricades, human or objects, capable of withholding. The point on the approaching horizon is to hold out - and to take hold collectively - without needing those barricades.

derrière les décors des restaurants chics parisiens, ce sont aussi les sans-papiers qui tiennent les coulisses


Piece over at The Commune on the migrant cleaners in Paris, some of whom occupied the chic top-floor restaurant of the Pompidou Center. (Article from Libération here.) This is pretty damn powerful, even in its incipient stage, with real lessons to be learned for us here. Demands like, "We are not on strike just for ourselves, we want papers for all workers, including those working illegally" change the game. It's necessary - for us here, for all - to strive to find that precision of something concrete and comprehensible, yet the fulfillment of which would entirely rupture the ruling order of the day. (In this case, the regularization of sans-papiers would fundamentally alter the class and political composition of France.) The singular demand becomes universal...

The university is not our enemy. It is a visible staging ground on which a battle is to be fought.

To clarify:

The public university is not our enemy. It is not a monolithic beast to be simply countered, but a complex assemblage, intersecting vectors of thinking and money, invested capital and seething discontent, workers and the disappearing prospects of work, of reactionary forms and vast potential. And it is reeling, deeply in crisis. To speak of killing it is like speaking of rope in the cell of a prisoner to be hanged the following morning. Such an outcome waits around the corner, in years to come, not at our hands but beneath the weight and hunger of global capitalism in its current desperation.

This must be countered. The notion and promise of what public education can and should be must be protected at all costs. For whatever its failures, the public university itself remains a critical space for beginning to counter those economic processes and social models that far exceed the scope and reach of this campus, of any network of campuses. We remain committed to truly public education, to wider discourse, to rigorous analyses, to theories of action, as both means and end. These things can be and must be weapons to be shared and learned, tools to pry open frozen forms of uncritical thought and sad resignation. Machines for amplification and networks for mass communication.

If we are to speak of opening the university wider, of taking its spaces in order to make it a common zone (at once seeming paradox and concrete tactic), a zone of contention and resistance, we have to start with understanding it as a site, not as object, of antagonism. We have to grasp where it is already open and where its many blockades to access stand heavy. How to use those blockages against their ends, to expose them and use them for better, sharper purposes. How to see these openings and find emerging allies who also know that this situation must become the emergency that we already know it to be. No false enemies in a time of real enemies.

The university is not our enemy. It is a visible staging ground on which a battle is to be fought.

Solidarity with the Academy of Arts occupation in Vienna


Their statement:

"

The Bologna process aims at extensive convergence with the Anglo-American education system. The goal is to enter competition in the global education market to strengthen its own economic position and increase research dependent revenues. The establishment of regulative norms and the harmonization of standards are its basis and at the same time its precondition: without standardization no measurability, without measurability no comparability, without comparability no competition. Economization and competition logic are imposed on every level of the knowledge landscape.

The result is intercontinental as well as inter-EU competition, within which single universities and their departments compete amongst themselves for the best results and statistics. The processes involved in the creation of an education economy with knowledge as the traded commodity correspond with the general ambitions of privatization and commodification in all spheres of life under neoliberal capitalism. They lead to educational institution’s increased dependency on their sponsors; cynically defined as the autonomization of the universities.

In this context autonomy is a euphemism for the new forms of governing institutions. The autonomized universities are not autonomous in the sense of self-determined at all. They are rather directed to fulfil the needs of economy and industry, as well as to subjugate themselves to market logic; efficiency, competition and managerial ruling structures. The democratisation of the universities, implemented in the 1970s, is successively abolished; democratically legitimized bodies are disenfranchised and replaced by top-down hierarchical structures.

In the composition of the Bologna 3-level study model, a paradigm change has manifested itself, in the last few years there has been a shift from a pluralistic education ideal to an economy orientated education. The Academy of Fine Arts Vienna has repeatedly and explicitly positioned itself against this degradation and the establishment of the Bachelor-Master system.

We refuse to subjugate ourselves to the logic of politics and economy!

We’re fighting to define learning, teaching and research for ourselves!

We declare solidarity with the education protests in Bangladesh, Brazil, Germany, Finland, France, Greece, Great Britain, India, Iran, Italy, Japan, South Korea, Croatia, Netherlands, Serbia, South Africa, USA!"

Solidarity to all those who try and refuse the accepted logic of politics and economy, with clear thought and real conviction, however it is done, everywhere that it needs to be done. Solidarity to those who both analyze the complexities of the system in which they participate and commit to direct actions, who break the false stalemate between sophisticated, rigorous thought and concrete expressions of discontent and refusal. From USA, back to you, in solidarity!

(Group statement of solidarity here.)

The elevation of past protests as part of a storied history serves equally to denigrate the real attempts now


More responses from our crew to Mr. Bousquet, on the topic of the second occupation and the occasion of these necessary days to come.

"We are interested in seeing these spaces not simply as calculations of property that has to be protected at all costs, and we will claim them accordingly. Not small numbers of us who ask for the solidarity of others or who assume that we "represent" other students. Massive numbers of us who wish to express discontent in any way that we find productive and necessary. Occupation is one such way, but far from the only one."

"A chorus of voices and fists raised in support"



A key interview at the Socialist Worker that helps clarify and extend our positions.

"Our interest in occupation is to put certain radical tactics back on the map, to encourage others to occupy spaces everywhere and to innovate other tactics. At this moment, the beginning of what we believe to be the terminal crisis of capitalism, we need to salvage abandoned radical tactics and to forge new modes of struggle. We believe that occupation is a necessary means of escalation, but it is far from the only one."

A STAKE IN THE DEAD HEART

[Anon text from the occupation]


1. RED SHOOTS BLOOM

We have reached the terminal crisis of capitalism.
It will not end this year or the next, in five years or ten or twenty, but its long overdue collapse has begun. Without doubt. Yet without doubt, it will neither end nor end well for any of us without our collective intervention. This crisis paves no automatic way forward, even as it points no way out.
We are in a downturn that does not turn up. We see it all around us, in the foreclosures of homes, the loss of jobs, the gutting of public education, and the contraction of common access to healthcare, housing, and a decent living wage. We have watched finance rise to obscene heights and crash down in speculative bubbles, working families lose their savings while the rich laughed all the way to the bank.
We see the effects of this world system’s slow death on the most local of scales: our houses, our towns, our factories and farms, and, in this case, our universities. With plans to raise tuition 30% in a single year, programs and services slashed, class sizes increased, faculty and workers laid off or forced to take furloughs, it becomes certain that something has permanently changed, a deep tidal shift too enormous to grasp outside of its local consequences, consequences that threaten the education and livelihood of an entire state.
But we must be clear: this is not the fault of bad administration. Indeed, they have made atrocious choices, lining their pockets smugly while preaching sacrifice to us all. They ask us to tighten our belts until we are choked off at the middle. They even dare to propose privatizing the university. And believe us, they will pay for this. But we have no interest in a regime change, in asking for kinder administrators to enact the same cuts and hikes that we reject today. They are merely figureheads in a system that dictates and rewards this kind of behavior. Their unacceptable actions are symptoms of a deeper sickness, one that exceeds their feeble attempts to try and wrest away what belongs commonly to us all.
For this sickness is global. Capitalism is dying, but it will not die. Its death is slow and ongoing; it still has the blush of health. This fall-out had been postponed by banks, governments, and corporations. Yet the general trendline of the past 30 years, the move away from manufacturing profits toward an increased reliance on financial speculation, could only ever delay the inevitable. And now, it has hastened that end. The emergency measures taken to shock the weakened, tremulous heart of capital have flat-lined it.
We won’t fully realize or feel this for a long while: its mechanisms and circuits still function on autopilot, ceaselessly trying to generate wealth, and its champions desperately insist that the green shoots of recovery are coming. But we stand here at the beginning of the end, faced with a wound that cannot close. In that space, in that deep cut, we see new possibilities, real hope forged out of the dejection and hopelessness of so many workers, students, and those blocked from being either.
Red shoots bloom in these dark days.

2. ORGANIZE, INNOVATE, AND ESCALATE

Why do we occupy? What is the connection between this tactic of the militant repossession of space and the historical moment we have inherited?
Older strategies of political action and involvement have proven themselves entirely incapable of enacting change. We do not live in the ‘60s anymore, and we cannot return to them. Those were times of the deep plenitude of capital, its golden years of global profit and proliferation. And those were times in which mass protest appeared capable of effecting changes in the social, economic, and political structure of capitalism.
Those days are over: the very nature and events of those times have produced this very different situation. Capitalism bleeds out, desperate for horizons it cannot find. In these days of crisis and the urgency of our interventions, the older modes of protest and resistance most remembered and repeated are useless. We are expected to let a few protesters represent us, do a sanctioned march for a day, and then return home, knowing both that we “did all that we could” and that nothing will be different tomorrow.








We drive a stake through the dead heart of that past moment, the double death of global economic growth and global mass representational protest. We must truly kill those older modes in order to resurrect something fiercer, smarter, and capable of combating a world gone very wrong, a history gone off the rails.
Occupation is, therefore, a tactic resurrected, salvaged from an abandoned radical past and constructed anew for this moment.
We occupy to help break those older logics. We occupy to show that radical options are not just on the map again but are a way of redrawing the map, giving shape and form to the dissent and discontent that seethes around the world. We occupy to create an anti-capitalist and anti-privatized space, no matter how small or for how long, out of the institutional zones of capitalism. We occupy to produce sparks that draw awareness and attention to a situation that can no longer be tolerated. We occupy again and again, as long as it takes.
We occupy to show that it can be done, and that what must be done is both the occupation of more spaces around the globe and the creation of new tactics, innovative modes of resistance that we have yet to see. We cannot know where struggle goes from here. We cannot, and do not wish to, dictate its direction. Rather, we call on everyone to look coldly at the state of the world and to plan hotly how to reclaim what is ours and take what we have never been allowed.
We drive a stake to widen that wound of the present, to destroy the nostalgia that has held us back, and to insist that this situation will not go away.
We do not go back from here.
There is no movement now that is not forward. Organize, innovate, and escalate!

In solidarity,
WE ARE THE CRISIS

SC Local Support Letter

Dear, dear Movimiento Estudiantil de UCSC

Sorry it took us so long to simply state our support. And sorry about that time I heckled you when you were jogging on West Cliff. Um, yeah. We're stoked on the trouble you're making up there on the hill. We are also tired of writing letters and the "two minute limit" freedom of speech and the permit-required democracy. It hasn't gotten us anywhere. No more modest requests. Time to make demands. We want everything too. We want reparations for our time spent working. We want food, shelter, a little weed, and healthcare; no exceptions. We want adequate education for our children, and music lessons, and languages, and surfing, and preschool, and gardens, and enough time to play. We want education in all those useful things: how to grow food, how to fix things when they're broken. We want much more than this, but it's a good start. Of course, we don't have much faith that the city or the State or the state are going to supply us with these things. So, I guess we're gonna have to do it for ourselves. Dudes, rise up! We're gonna have to drag some of your energy down into town too. Occupy everything, like you said. City Hall? The Office of Education? And let's tear up Hwy 17 and let the forest grow back. Torch the Boardwalk. Squat Urban Apparel and use it as a homeless shelter. A garden where every parking lot once lay...
From now on, kooks and trannies, we are at your side. And you'll be by ours.

In solidarity,
SC Locals