Hey jammers, dreamers, believers,
Here is a testimony from the streets of New York:
Lost my stuff, including power cord for my laptop, in the raid, something or someone cleared out my bank account, and it's raining. I could just write a country song. I'll tell you this: the resolve is still here. People I talk to are a healthy mixture of rage, comedy, resolve, and excitement. Also exhaustion. Maybe the raid was the best thing that could happen? I worry about the inevitable suffering that will occur in the cold now, and how it will be used to clear any encampment again. But there must be something like a people's library and kitchen. A physical heart. More soon. Must find money and charge my phone. Winning at last, winning at last, thank God Almighty, we are winning at last…
Our movement is living through an existential, make-or-break moment.
This is a tactical way of looking at it:
When Tunisia rose up, Ben Ali scoffed … when young people occupied Tahrir Square, Mubarak resorted to paternalism and then mob violence … in Syria, Assad's troops fire daily into the crowds. And on Tuesday, a military style assault on Zuccotti Park – news blackouts, tear gas, closed airspace, an LRAD "sound cannon" – was carried out in the dead of night to take out our movement's spiritual home.
For many weeks we had a kind of magic going for us … we held the high ground … we stuck doggedly to our Gandhian ways and blindsided the cynical world with our optimism, our camaraderie, our nonviolence, our determination to forge a different kind of future. With nothing more than twinkling fingers, mic checks, mutual respect, and hope for the future, we sparked a global democracy moment the likes of which the world had not seen since 1968.
But New York's billionaire Mayor decided to snuff us out. We wanted a Tahrir Moment, an American Spring, and he attacked us in the middle of the night while we slept. These kinds of attacks on peaceful protestors did not work in Tunisia, not in Egypt, they are not working in Syria right now, and – wake up Bloomberg & Co! – they are not going to work in America either.
This assault has stiffened our resolve. Now begins the second, visceral, canny, militant phase of our nonviolent march to real democracy. We regroup, lick our wounds and begin our counterattack as early as tomorrow.
We will turn this winter into a training ground for precision disruptions – flashmobs, stink bombs, edgy theatrics – against the megacorps and the unrepentant 1%, a festival of resistance in the snow with, or without, an encampment that'll lay the tactical foundation for our Spring Offensive.
The bottom line is this … you cannot attack your young and get away with it!
for the wild,
Culture Jammers HQ
At last we’re in Winter. It’s the year 2047. A worn scrapbook from the future arrives in your lap. It offers a stunning global vision, a warning to the next generations, a repository of practical wisdom, and an invaluable roadmap which you need to navigate the dark times, and the opportunities, which lie ahead.