nope

The mandatory election manifesto.  Every party has one.  Every organisation.  Every campaign. Principles to be proclaimed from a ‘platform’, a vision to be attained in some future always on the horizon, a new promise to make us forget every other one that came before. The election manifesto: a public statement to close the possibility for any way of being political other than the putting ‘hope’ in a vote. Their ritual.

This is not a manifesto. Neither policy makers, nor vote takers, this is our manifestering…

We can no longer be satisfied with the empty cycles of election politics, the pious lies of party officials or their pretences to speaking in the name of us all. ‘Together we can do more’ they say. More of the same… where ‘being-together’ will mean little more than deferring our dreams and desire in the name of the nation, party or magnum leader. We can no longer believe in the shallow visions of the future imagined by others for us all.

Regardless of the trimmings, their manifesto’s message is always the same. Trust in us, and we will deliver. We can no longer believe the promise and so can no longer take comfort from it. And regardless of what they say, their manifesto bearing the promise of dreams one day fulfilled, cannot escape its framing by capitalism’s own manifesto.  A manifesto that is felt everywhere by everyone.  A manifesto that shapes our everyday.  That tries to get under our skins, and make us live in ways alien to our desires. Their fulfilment always on the horizon, that is, always only ever a matter of ‘hope’.
Today the system struggles, nursing injuries from its battle with humanity, our individual and collective refusals against the mantras of commodity, fiscal discipline, restraint, indigent management... But it would rather scorch the earth than give in. The burns now stretch from the eyelid to the ankle of the globe.  They cannot grow any bigger.  But they can still deepen…


As the system implodes, we are not here to convince you. There are no easy answers.  In the brand management of movements, the pimping of activist pop-stars, and the solidarity of the NGO stipend, political opposition itself comes to resemble disaster management. Suture the wounds.

We too have searched for our ‘ideal movements’, ‘our heroes of hope’ with ‘their vision’ for remaking the world.  But each time we have learnt that there are no easy answers.

There is no alternative except what we make together. Walking we ask questions – finding our answers, finding our ways, discovering who we are becoming. Together manifestering…

 We don’t care what you do with your vote, All that matters is what we will do together in the time that remains. Our common action will be a shared disposition to joy, the joy of an insurgency, and the excitement of helping to ruin the order.

Our weapon against the wound is desire and we will know each other by it.

 Alliances everywhere are possible.  Mediation no longer viable.

 From now on all friendship is politics. All braskap… a call to revolution.