|The anarchist publishers I work with, Strangers In A Tangled Wilderness, just finished work on their latest theory zine. Written by a certain ms/mr Usul of the Blackfoot, this zine is wonderful. Post-Civ!, a deeper exploration. It’s a nearly 40 page exploration of why civilization is terrible and why primitive societies weren’t usually that much better (despite the claims of primitivists) and it lays out a great framework for building towards a post-civilized society. Really, I can’t recommend it enough.|
I had never really looked at Treehugger.com, but today I did, finding a neat article there I just blogged below. Then I, just now, looked at the main site. Top post? Did you know that you can save money with an electric blanket?
This is my problem with green capitalism. It says: gee, if people turned down their thermostat they save energy and money. So far so good (I’m willing to admit saving money can be useful). But then, the solution. Get an electric blanket? How about insulating your damn house?
Green capitalism assumes that the solutions are found in products. That we just need more solar panels, not to use less energy. It’s insane. It’s not a solution. It’s just a smokescreen, to get everyone to think that the world can be saved if we just bought different things. The world cannot be fixed by buying new things! That’s the whole problem! Gah. I figure most of you know all of this anyhow.
I think the first time I ran across the idea of living in a shipping container was the film Mies vailla menneisyyttä [The Man Without A Past], a finnish movie about a man who gets mugged, loses his memory, and has to start over from scratch. It’s a pretty good movie, too. Poor guy has to actually rent a plain, boring shipping container.
Then the latest Rolling Thunder (crimethInc’s magazine) came out, and they had an article devoted to clever swedish radicals who got together and built their own autonomous space, Kulturkampanjen. Pictured above, it uses four cargo containers as the basic structural support to build off of. Pretty neat.
Then today I ran across Treehugger.com’s exposition of container houses, and it’s pretty amazing, with a lot of different approaches introduced.
I love the re-use and recycling of industrial byproduct. I do wonder, though, how terribly hard these things would be to insulate. Perhaps the coldest night I’ve ever spent was in an empty gondola making its way from Milwaukee to Minneapolis, cause that thick steel just sucked the heat right out of us. Summer must be even worse. Still, a cheap, neat house is a pretty awesome thing.
He loses the ﬁngers, sudden as
Why is it interesting? Because Sarah Gridley, whoever she is, didn’t write that poem. In fact, none of the 3,000+ authors listed wrote the pieces that are attributed to them. It’s a 3785 page PDF file poetry anthology of beautiful lies and blasphemy!
One of the most fun parts is reading all of the writers respond in the comments. Tons of them are hopping mad. Others get it.
Silliman (whoever that is), is worried about his good name and makes vague threats about suing the editors. He also calls it “anarcho-flarf vandalism”. And all I gotta say is, go anarcho-flarf vandalism! I wonder what the anarcho-flarf flag would be. Maybe black and newspaper print? I could get down with that.
Honestly, I haven’t been excited about poetry in years. Or art, really, though I have to pretend like I am. Dada and surrealism got sucked into mainstream art, what’s left? Well, for starters, 3,000 poem anthologies of god-knows-what.
One poet that took it well and spoke reasonably on the subject is Sharanya Manivannan, who explains a bit more about the nature of the project and also the root of the word “anarcho-flarf”.
There are some fun pictures of a 1925 steamroller over on Shorpy [1, 2, and 3]. Today’s fun steamroller fact: steamrollers were still in use until the 1960s, making them one of the longest lasting steam machines I can think of. (Turns out the modern ones are called “road rollers” which is a much worse name. Though I could imagine being a “road punk” would be kind of cool. And it would fit on your knuckles. But I digress.)
I first heard that Abney Park (steampunk electronic rock band) was going to play on a zeppelin by way of their Official Page. I grew jealous. Then I discovered more details about it from Boing Boing and I was jealous of Boing Boing, for blogging about it first when I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. But then I realized that being jealous is useless. So I tried to sign up as a lackey for the flight, but that didn’t happen either.
So, like you do, I began to plot to kidnap/murder one of the members of the band to replace him or her for the duration of the flight. Naturally, I figured I should chose someone who it would be easy to disguise myself as.
But then I realized… Abney Park is a band of airship pirates. They will be stealing the zeppelin and either making use of it to harass British royal air freight or turning it into a populist form of travel.
Thanks to a comment from Ben, I’ve come to learn the real identity of Peter the Painter. He was a latvian named Janis Zhaklis. Ian Bone has covered the story and has an audio interview with Philip Ruff, who traveled to Latvia numerous times to uncover the story. (You can also watch the interview on youtube).
And there’s also an interesting bit about the story of uncovering the truth from the kate sharpley library (pdf).
The short of it is that Peter the Painter was not a damned bolshevik, and he most certainly wasn’t the bolshevik responsible for the literal eradication of the anarchists in soviet russia. That’s a relief. We get to keep our folk hero.
A punk-rock nonprofit in Indianapolis, OxenFree [can’t find a website], is asking for donations of socks all over the internets [okay, look, in my world, boingboing is the internets. So yeah, help be-sock the punks!
Considering the fact that my socks are currently “drying” on the floor of a friends apartment in a sunless, chilly autumn, I appreciate the idea.
I’m pleased as hell with these photos that came out of sunday’s show. Just as a word of warning, the show in question was at an erotic arts theatre, so like half the pictures of me have a painting of a lady wearing pasties (and not too much else) behind me. If you know me, you know that I would rather that not be the case. But at least it’s a well executed painting.
Anyhow, there are pictures from:
Libby Bulloff [my favorite of myself declares me the patron saint of gibberish].
And Daniel McManus [my favorite of myself.]
And of course, I posted twopictures of setup to my flickr.
Peter the Painter, a notorious latvian revolutionary who holed up in London for a bit, has been honored with two commerative plaques on housing projects that have been named after him, much to the ire of the police.
Peter the Painter was the possibly fictional person responsible for the shooting death of three police officers… he and his gang (I find it humorous that all accounts talk about the “leader” of this or that anarchist gang) had been robbing a jewelry store to fund their revolutionary activity when they were stopped by police. They won that shoot-out.
Then there was the Siege of Sidney Street. The police tracked down Peter and his gang to a house on Sidney street and well, you guessed it, laid siege. In a perfectly Waco-like moment, “a fire broke out” and the firefighters were prevented from putting out the fire. Winston Churchill himself was present and nearly got pwned when a bullet flew through his top hat. Apparently, this moment was caught on film. I’d love to see it. So anyhow, there was a fire, but the anarchists inside didn’t just surrender out the front door. When police finally entered, they found Fritz Svaars and William Sokolow, anarchists, dead on the floor. No Peter the Painter.
Unfortunately, there’s a chance that Peter was another name for Yakov Peters, who was actually tried and acquitted (7 people, 5 men and 2 women, were tried and acquitted in the aftermath of the siege. None of them cops.), went on to go the Bolshevik route, ruining any good reputation he may have had, and helping form the Cheka, the first soviet secret police. He got his comeuppance in the great purge of 1938.
Now of course, the police in london are calling these plaques an outrage since they defend a “murderer”. Obviously, who gets to call whom a murderer is a matter of who wins the fight in the end… are revolutionaries murderers? Perhaps some of them. Perhaps even all of them. But if so, so are police, presidents, soldiers, executioners (hell, judge and jury at that)… the list goes on. Here were people committed to a purpose, one they considered noble, of human emancipation, when agents of the state came to try and take away their freedom. They defended themselves. I’m glad they’ve got a plaque or two.