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Notes from the Underground Volume 2 Number 4 - Letter to a Young Anarchist Hey ya'll, Yeah, well, it's been a long, hot, crazy summer, and you know there's nothing like a little heat stroke to make you a little less active and a little more reflective. (Couldn't get into my apartment when the landlord changed all the locks, and I fell asleep outside on a bench on a 98 degree day while waiting for the janitor to come by and tell me that the locks were changed because we were all evicted so they could knock down the building and put in a yuppie restaurant named - get this - Home. Anyway, it's probably illegal and all, but what with having heat stroke, I wasn't really up to a big hassle. Plus they may have sent some notices, I guess, but my key broke off in my mailbox, so I couldn't get mail.) Now that I've got a new place, I've been spending lots of time in the wading pool in my kitchen (officially for the ducks - who have joined the chickens as my roommates - but we take turns, and, yes, I do change the water between our turns). So I hang out in the pool, spashing around, plotting all the insurgencies and rebellions that will take place when it's a little more bearable outside. The captains of industry better watch out come September! Speaking of which, that's right around the corner. I'd better get busy. So, anyway, in all my weeks of reflection, I spent quite a lot of time pondering a message sent me a few months ago. Subj: An-R-Keee Rocks! so like peet, how does some one be-come a An-r-kist lyke u? i'm like so syck of mi Parentz tellin me to get a job an evry thing they r just Conserveitiv republickins an they want me to be the msame way. any advise U'r comrade - Yeah, so, sitting in the pool one day I remembered the note from little j. He made some salient points about his frustration with the machine, and I started thinking, Heck, wouldn't it have been cool to have had a vegan anarchist mentor when I was just a novice budding socialist? Yes, it would've been. So I decided to collect my little gems of wisdom and kernels of insights and compile them into some handy advice for the juvenile boys and girls otherwise spending their summer months immersed in anarcho-deconstructionist theory. The first thing I would say is find a good supplier of ramen noodles. My love for those tempting little noodles is well documented, and, seeing as there's not much money in agitation these days, ramen is the way to go. If you're felling a little more flush with cash, hey, mix it up with beans, veggies, whatever. But for those I'm-so-broke-I-got-excited-when-I-found-a-dime-in-my-pocket days, plain ramen is the way to go. Speaking of food, dumpster diving has a long and proud tradition. Figure out the best days for when the big ol' chain grocery stores do their purges, grab a couple of canvas bags and have at it! By the way, the Dominick's at Western and Belmont is a poor man's paradise every Tuesday. Pilfer toilet paper rolls from restaurants, movie theaters, and, best of all, government buildings to keep your stash from getting too depleted. No time to shower between protests, arrests and more protests? Keep a plant mister and fill it with water and a few drops of nice smelling oil. Spritz liberally. Ahh, fresh as new! If you're trying to impress a girl's (or boy's) parents, it's probably not a good idea to bring up your arrest record as an ice-breaker, even if they were bogus, trumped up charges. And bite your tongue instead of discussing your thoughts on globalization, consumerism, or the current state of democracy in the U.S. Or your feelings about racism, classism, sexism or speciesism. Art is also a no-no. Basically you can talk about the weather, but don't use that to launch into any diatribes about global warming. I know, I know -- it's tempting. Invest in a few rolls of duct tape: it'll hold your car, shoes, pants, and bed together long past their prime. Duct tape is the ruler over all it surveys. If you have a court date, for cripes's sake, put your notice somewhere you'll likely find it, like under a refrigerator magnet or something. It totally sucks to show up at the Willowbrook courthouse on Wednesday morning when you were expected at the Willowhill courthouse on Tuesday afternoon. Judges in particular frown upon that kind of error, and prosecuters smile their smug little smiles. I hate making prosecuters smile, and so should you. Feelin' a little not-so fresh after siphoning gas? Try apple juice -- it gets the taste out every time. So, as you see, one doesn't have to be a rocket scientist to become today's anarchist, but it does take a little common sense, planning and thrift. Who knows? Maybe someday you'll be doling out the advice. Until then, keep at it, and always remember to label the bottles in which you've stashed lighter fluid in case you ever get thirsty and forget what's what - Crazy Pete |
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