Introduction to forth coming Modesto Anarcho #13.
Everywhere. No matter if you are a worker in the fields. A student in the schools. Someone locked up. Facing deportation. A beating for who you choose to love. Forced to sell your time and energy to survive. Pay for a place to stay. Everywhere. We have a mandate for class war. If you want a reason you need only look at the amount of foreclosed homes on your street as the bankers that own them fill their gullets from a troff of bailout cash. Take a short break while picking fruit and vegetables and feel as the pesticides seep into your skin and you are paid slave wages. Watch as your tuition costs jump through the roof as your hand graps the brand new lay off notice from work. Glance up from the want adds as your daughter cries and you remember that your food stamps have again run out. In the background of it all, police sirens - the slamming of the prison doors. As if to say, "We'll always have a place for you here..."
As capitalism's noose tightens around us, we struggle and attempt to gasp for air. We watch out for our friends and co-workers as we steal from work and from stores. We ignore the notices of 'foreclosure' and stay inside our homes for as long as possible - without paying rent. We come out of our cars and houses and into the streets to confront the police when someone is getting harassed and threatened with jail time. As we attempt to breathe; as we fight for more and more room, we also find others like us who are doing the same. Suddenly, the divisions between us based on race, sexuality, geography, and gender - disappear. We come to understand that those faced with a similar set of conditions, shared experiences, and moreover, the same enemies, can come to constitute a body of people with the power to turn this whole thing inside out. The film is called "The Disaster of Our Everyday Lives," and we've been selling popcorn in the lobby of this theater for as long as we can remember. We are glad that you have come outside with us just long enough to share a cigarette and to talk about burning the building to the ground...
But, in the midst of our discussion, we are interrupted by those that declare that we need petitions not graffiti. Politicians to vote for, not riots. Union bosses, not strikes and occupations. They have plans to march on Sacramento, to 'speak truth to power.' How sad. Power already knows the truth; it simply doesn't care. Those that seek to channel our discontent back into politics, the city council, 'the proper channels,' only wish to better manage and organize the world of rich and poor. The point however, has always been to destroy it. We are for insurrection, not activism. We want revolution, not reform. We want power for ourselves, not a seat at the table of our enemies.
"But who is this Modesto Anarcho Crew?," some ask. "Thieves, terrorists, hooligans, and criminals!," others reply. What we are is almost uninteresting. For we are the same as so many of our class. People who work jobs that never pay enough. Those who try and get by, but never quite do, on unemployment and food stamps. People who are 'represented' in unions, yet always have no control or power in their workplace. Those who steal when they are hungry. Those who have gone to jail and hated it. Who despise the police. Who hate la migra. Who crossed out every swastika they saw in the bathroom and rolled their eyes during every meeting at work. We are not interesting. We are average. Ordinary. Everyday. What we do. Oh, what we do. Now that is the stuff that is interesting. This magazine is part of what we do. Our journal we unleash upon the world. For three years we have done this. For three years we have given this out for free and sent thousands of copies into prisons. We get fan mail. We receive threats from the police. We get respect on the street. We gain enemies. Such is life.
People are going on strike. Kids are taking over their schools. Neighborhoods are fighting the police. Our enemies gear up to confront us - and try and calm us down. For three years our project has been to document the struggles of working and poor people in our area. To talk shit on those among us who want peace with our enemies and give props to those who instead offer fire and rage. Three years of this; and we have only just begun. So dry your eyes over the state of the world. Someone has your back, more than you know. Someone else knows what's it like and is ready to get crazy.
"Who are we?" As the song goes: We are your friends. You'll never be alone again.