Pourquoi revenir sur les questions d’affinité et d’organisation informelle ? Ce n’est certes pas parce que manquent les tentatives d’explorer et d’approfondir ces aspects de l’anarchisme, parce que les discussions d’hier comme d’aujourd’hui ne s’en inspirent pas quelque peu, ou qu’il n’existe pas de textes – il est vrai, souvent dans d’autres langues – qui abordent ces questions peut-être de manière plus dynamique. Mais certains concepts exigent sans aucun doute un effort analytique et critique permanent, s’ils ne veulent pas perdre leurs significations à force d’utilisation fréquente et de répétition. Sinon, nos idées courent le risque de devenir des lieux-communs, des « évidences », terrain fertile pour le jeu idiot de la compétition des identités où la réflexion critique devient impossible. Il arrive que le choix de l’affinitaire soit bien vite liquidé par certains comme étant un rapport figé aux propres idées, un rapport qui ne permettrait pas de contact avec la réalité ni même avec les compagnons. D’autres agitent par ailleurs l’affinité comme un étendard, une espèce de mot d’ordre – et comme avec tous les mots d’ordre, c’est souvent la véritable signification, profonde et propulsive, qui en est la première victime.

Warning! This text is full of spoilers for the film How to Blow Up a Pipeline. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s surprisingly enjoyable, so consider watching it first. :)

It is nearly eighty degrees in New York in late October. “My god, aren’t we fucked?” I think to myself as I find Calla Walsh and Paige Belanger drinking coffee outside a Moroccan café at a small rickety table on the Lower East Side. The pair look like ragged young hipsters you might see at a DIY metal show in a basement. Calla is scrawny, but there is an unmistakable intensity in her eyes. Paige inexplicably carries the duality of someone who would knit you a sweater or throw you out of a helicopter.

“w/ out imagination there is no memory
w/ out imagination there is no sensation
w/ out imagination there is no will, desire
…
the war that matters is the war against the imagination
all other wars are subsumed in it.”

an open letter to push back against the martyr narrative of incarcerated people who perpetuate rape culture, misogyny, and white supremacy.

The material contained in this text is gut-wrenching and disturbing. What follows is a critically annotated edition of Apio Ludd / Feral Faun / Wolfi Landstreicher's Child Molestation vs. Child Love, from his (otherwise celebrated) anthology, Rants, Essays and Polemics. It is a defense of the sexual abuse of children and, ironically, a call to "fight the real child molesters" - Landstreicher's term for parents, schools, and churches. In some parts of the work, it is quite graphic and the reader should tread lightly. Those who have suffered child sexual abuse in the past may want to stop here.

On Monday August 14th 2023, Philadelphia police officer Mark Dial shot and killed Eddie Irizarry as he sat in his car. Police initially lied saying that Eddie attacked the cop with a knife, but video footage showed that Eddie was shot in mere seconds while seated in his car with the window up. Following this Dial was suspended for 30 days pending termination. In early September Dial was charged with a number of crimes including murder but the presiding judge would eventually dismiss his charges. The cops who attended the court date in uniform cheered and celebrated when the charges were dropped. On September 26th, that same day Eddie’s family and the Party for Socialism and Liberation (alongside Black leftist groups like Black Alliance for Peace and the W.E.B. DuBois Movement School) organized a peaceful march through Center City protesting the decision. That demonstration dispersed after a couple hours but was followed by looting, initially in Center City before spreading to West, North, and Northeast Philly as the night went on.

In February of 1999, a journal titled Tiqqun appeared in France. Its subtitle was Organe conscient du Parti Imaginaire (Conscious Organ of the Imaginary Party), followed by Exercices de Metaphysique Crtique (Exercises in Critical Metaphysics). It was published by several graduate students in Paris, all of whom included their names in the publication data on the back page of Tiqqun.

La Zad era il nostro vascello pirata, la madre di tutte le Zad. È emersa in un’epoca senza vie d’uscita ed è stato come se il mondo diventasse un po’ più sopportabile. Come un breve barlume, una possibilità che faceva irruzione nella nebbia spessa e appiccicosa del nostro futuro. Per noi che conduciamo delle vite movimentate e fuori dalle norme, era la consapevolezza che ci sarebbe sempre stato un posto ad accoglierci, in caso di latitanza. Un posto dove lo Stato non sarebbe mai venuto a cercarci. Un posto dove avremmo sempre trovato degli/lle alleati/e per nutrirci, vestirci, dissimularci nelle pieghe del suo bocage.

It was winter 2020 and in the aftermath of the most inspiring anti-colonial uprising of my lifetime, I read Rattachements (Re-attachments in English) and Inhabit. The trains had started up again across the country, and COVID-19 was starting to reorder our lives mere weeks after we had been doing our small part to help shut down Canada. In and around Tio’tia:ke (Montreal) where I live, there were many Indigenous-led initiatives, including solidarity rounddances that blocked traffic downtown, and of course the month-long blockade of the railway tracks that run through Kahnawá:ke. On and around the island, the engagement of settlers in #ShutDownCanada took a number of forms including clandestine sabotage of rail infrastructure, demos and vandalism of RCMP property, and multiple rail blockades, one of which lasted a few days.