its 4 am and i am intoxicated by dopamine–generated by the thirst i feel to transform our world
in a few hours we will take the streets and let our beautiful banners unfurl
its the day before yet another mobilization and i wonder about the depth of our resistance
i wonder about our power to unite a force large enough to be potent–to strike fear into the hearts of tyrants and to cross psychic oceans…
but we also have to understand and reckon with the ideological confusion among the legions opposing the deplorable cabal clinging to the iron throne
we are a tribe intoxicated by pop riffs–getting its politics from the land of westeros
our brains are evolving dialectically in this crucial hour
seeking consciousness of mysterious things and seeking nascent kinetic power
i grow from the comradery of friends—i pray that this toxic system meets its end
praxis is the intersectional unity of theory and practice—a revolutionary axiom as potent as they get
coined by gramsci writing from mussolini’s prison—the term, like all good ideas, has evolved with time
embraced by free-thinking marxists and anarchists alike…
we must fight on every front and use all of our tools
the logic of system change gives birth to revolutionary rules
we need our revolutionary centers and our newly forming life cult
we need power and strength—we need to open are psychic vaults
our tribe is disorganized and weighed down by layers of oppression
struggling under decades of neoliberal assault and its concomitant white supremacist rationalization
today trump holds minds in thrall that he has done nothing to deserve…
we are living through a historical epoch ruled by the most corrupt regime since perhaps caligula or nero
we are entering a reincarnated matrix collectively awakening to become the new NEO
oracles read the stars for signs of what is to be done
architects build the towers that will bring our queendom come
red mafia is rising strong at the behest of agents of karma
we need our street art rebel crews like pop-heads need madonna
let artists tell their tales and let our spiritual fire be roused
our rebellions must be built in plain sight but also underground
the double-helix of praxis i saw in the flames tonight
in a fire pregnant with electricity fueled by intoxicating moonlight
the flames flickered to my music’s whims
with so much viscerally charged magnetism
we must strive for revolutionary unity and to traverse senseless schisms
we become the ones we are waiting for or we will die a brutal death
we will fight for the world we want to see until our last gasp of breath
the lead image is a poster by CESAR MAXIT >> @rvltn
–BYPO PHOENIX c)2017
