EcoPunk #75

    Every night around dusk I turn on the shortwave radio to remind myself there’s more to the world than water, sky and desert. The contrast between the world as reported by the BBC ("And in cricket news...") and Radio Homophobia Havana ("And this latest act of imperialist aggression by the capitalist pigs will lead to the downfall of the corrupt nation of fat slobs...") and my daily life is enough to inspire Roald Dahl hallucinations. Take for example yesterday. While the US bombed the living piss out of Baghdad, I was surfing a hollow, double overhead reef break with these two sweet men. Or the day before that when the Chinese government tried to cover up the killer pneumonia that’s threatening to be the new Bubonic Plague. I spent two hours watching a gang of old dolphins teaching adorable little baby dolphins how to surf the bow wave of a boat. Or the day before that when 50,000 people rioted in San Francisco and New York. I hitchhiked across the desolate Vizcaino Peninsula making friends and trying not to die in the most desolate places I’d ever seen.
    As much as this last example should have left me longing for the days of the last Bush war when me and a bunch of other mohicaned out kids spent an afternoon shooting rocks at riot cops with a water balloon slingshot, I was much happier sitting around a dirt floored cabin on some goddess forsaken Ejido talking politics and drinking coke with some sincerely wonderful campesinos or repairing a broken pipeline with my last ride. Don’t get me wrong. I love rioting. The thrill of breaking shit and fighting cops is more euphoric than anything I’ve ever smoked or snorted, but at the same time, my heart and mind are far more comfortable learning, traveling and making new friends than they are at warring. And somewhere along the way, I guess this dark inner sense becomes political somehow.
    See, I reckon these wars are about more than oil, power and Bush; they’re about psychologically and spiritually strafing the entire world. As much as we wanna be reductionist about things and cite only the plight of the Iraqi people, this war reaches far deeper than that. Hell, it reaches out here in the middle of the fucking desert 130 miles from the nearest telephone or paved road. People all across the world are scared shitless of the invincible hands of militarism, even if they’re busy beating the tar out of some foreign people whose foreign minister says weird shit on TV. The fear is very real. The sense of being tiny and all too mortal and easily defeated is real. And this is all piling up into a frustration I worry is terminal.
    And no, I’m not sitting here sucking a 10" bong while some wingnut runs crystals over my damaged chakras. Hell, up `til a few months ago, I still clung furiously to my redneck-Zapatista-Durrutti flair for armed revolution. I’ve spent years as an NRA instructor helping my comrades arm themselves with skills and politically incorrect assault weapons. I’ll even confess to having a PISSED. record in my collection. But you know what? There isn’t a shred of evidence that even the most highly trained guerrilla force could stand up to the US government on its own soil. Ever see the Navy Seals in action? It’s a million times scarier than every clearcut, SWAT team and EMPEROR album cover I’ve ever seen combined. The Posi-ship was anchored next to the Naval Amphibious Warfare Center in San Diego for a few weeks and every night we’d get to watch another gang of ripped, scary looking motherfuckers in black with waterproof M 16s and handgrenades flying through the dark on silenced jet boats, jumping out of helicopters, swimming 20 miles with their hands tied and 100lbs weights strapped to their backs. As much as I wanna believe the lyrics of SHAM 69 about uniting and winning, I still remember having to scootch the goals together at punk soccer games to facilitate our tobacco ravenged lungs and alcohol bloated guts. We’d get our asses massacred. And no, the vain Christian love of martyrdom does little to float my boat either.
    But you know what? even if we could pull together a Bad Haircut Militia and level the US military in one fell swoop with one fell sing along of a 7 Seconds song, I’d still prolly sit out in lieu of a good conversation or make out session.
    So color me a PC feminist characature with an apron shirt and hemp jewelry. I really believe that War and Patriarchy go out of their ways to wreck people’s spirits into believing that violence and guns and bombs are the only way to be free of tyranny. That every revolution that uses the tools of repression becomes repressive itself. That the ends reflect the means more than they justify them. That you live the reality you create.
    And at risk of sounding like I got the CRIMETHINC. straw up my nose snorting fat rails of escapist, self-centered apathy, I’m totally into creating new realities based on what feels good to my heart rather than what feels powerful or politically correct. Right now, after my senses have been entirely deprived of the opiates of civilization (politics, gods, religions, isms and that sorta hooey), my heart and head have been leading me away from guns and circled vowels and towards new friendships and deeper connections to the Earth.
    It feels really good to step back from the hype and propaganda of the moment and to ask yourself what you want out of the world. I know a whole lot of folks out there who don’t want war, but don’t want to kill cops or CEOS, who wanna get on living their lives without fear and violence interfering with their every thought. I know it sounds metaphysically weird and more than a bit hippie, but maybe, after so many centuries of recycling and reusing the works of patriarchy, we might wanna start with the barest of ideas we all hold in common and start up from there.
— mike antipathy
bahia abreojos, baja california sur
antipathy@morelos.com

ps- I gotta be back in the northwest for work all summer and fall. if you wanna come visit and see some bitchin wild, I’d love to meet some new friends.... drop me a line and we’ll bring patriarchy to its knees with good hikes and better swimming holes.