(1)

It would be a mistake to assume that the re-structuring and/or de-structuring of a political form is sufficient to create revo­lutionary organization. The political needs cannot be separated from the psychic needs --- both social structure and character structure must be attacked within the organization and within individuals if they are ever to transcend the repressive bourgeois order.

The revolutionary organization is not divided into a head that thinks and a body that acts. All cells think and act together. In its parts and as a whole, revolution aims at a homogenization of functions. Everyone can fight. Everyone can think. There is no room for either mindless activity or armchair theory. Action and theory must co-exist... Because there will be no divorce between these. The organization must attract and develop more total human beings. Freer human beings. In a society of fragments, the organization will represent a liberated zone struggling toward totality. It will be able to convince people that they can become whole because it will itself be closer to wholeness.

(2)

It's like pounds and pounds of pulpy putrid fat. Pig fat from slopping and wallowing in white pig life -- being fattened up for the kill of a long living death... We got to slim down... Chop it off and throw it back to the pigs, watching them devour the flesh of their own destruction. (Swine are known to eat from the flesh of their young)... They gave us everything we have and we never even knew if we wanted it. Here we are with their pig education and their swinish values and it doesn't mean shit. This thing is dying from a fat man's heart attack. White America is so over-fed, and the flesh of our fathers hangs in loose folds from the jowls and bellies of this plastic-jello society...We got to strip down to fighting weight. The wiry build of the guerilla will destroy the Fat Man. We reject the banquet of pastry-culture and syrupy-education. We reject the flesh-pots of exploitation. We reject the candied-sexlessness of plump faggot morality. We kill the pig and burn the fatty tissues of his gluttony in the fires of our anger. We would rather be hungry than fat. We are lean keen desire, destroying the fat of the land, slashing the pig's mind, and carving out the heart of this decaying corpse. We are life.

(3)

... submissiveness lies in understanding this character formation as related to the existing social structures. From the beginning of our lives, the natural life energy, the very core of our existence, is repressed.

"There exists a deeply rooted structural formation in the relationships between individual and social character structure."

The student's role is the implementation and perpetuation of capitalist society. As long as he considers himself a student, acts as a student, wishes to become a "liberated" student in a "liberated" university, tries to be a "revolutionary" student, he doesn't understand the revolutionary meaning of being human and acting human - he is still functioning as part of the repressive structure of student life. Until the student is willing to destroy JOYFULLY and totally those repressive structures - to attack and destroy the bourgeois social order - his student movement will always be just that - never truly revolutionary. There can be no liberated university in a dead society. All or nothing. The buildings are yours for the burning, for until they are destroyed, along with civilization and its DEATH, YOU will not live.

'Revolution must break from its past and derive all its poetry from the future."

1.
Where will the Lower East Side be this summer?
Extrapolate from the following:

a toilet is carried on St. Marx pl. up and down the side walk. we shit in it. invite others to shit in it. shout: America shits money - shit here. collect money, then leave the toilet royally in the middle of third ave. cop, in fury: poke jab us into middle of ave. to pick it up bring it to sidewalk where cop BEATS IT TO DEATH WITH A NITE STICK! EVER SEE A COP BEAT A TOILET TO DEATH WITH A NITE STICK! STICK AROUND!

Jason Lubin walks up and down st. marx place distributing a leaflet. plain clothes cop comes around from behind and punches him in the nose. Breaks his nose.

The po1ice thrash about trying to pacify the streets so the tourists can move peacefully on it. Plain clothes cops, fancy clothes, under cover, over cover. The flower children the media loved so much last summer are their enemy. flower-cong busted for standing around, busted for playing music, busted for looking young (held 72 hours to check if they are runaways) busted for being high (and sent to Belleview psychiatric ward for 6 days), harassed off the streets, then busted in their crash pads.

The police will allow us no space, wish to inter us again in the ugliness of family life to stop our fucking, our smoking, our turning on, they think they can harass us out of the city. the police use terror, thinking we will break like jason's nose; they turn the lower east side into an occupied zone. but driving us up against the wall does not help them. this summer will be a hot house. what grows is flower-cong, violent flowers: Venus- pig-trap, cacti, thorns.

We are busted in the streets
We are busted in crash pads
We are busted for finding out why we are busted
We are busted for protesting being busted.

possible response: flower cong running naked in the streets, dangling erections in the face of the tourists, fucking each other, provoking bloody flood of police sadism (inspec. Fink, forgetting his public images, sweating over his nite stick, grinding it into the vagina of same young hippy).

"deer mom, we are all learning karate. the little children practice in the streets. the older children keep cool, but already know it is better to carry a knife, still better to carry a gun so you don't get caught."

a couple of nites ago Officer 26441, officer rainey said to me: "that trash basket is for shit but not your kind of shit." and just the other day he said to me: "We let you off easy earlier". "Let me off easy? You busted me for nothing." At which point he busted me for the second time that day for standing on the corner.

2.
(then busted another motherfucker for trying to catch his badge number, two more in the precinct for asking what was happening, and a little later a third for standing on a street corner and protesting).

rainey, raney? ... haven't i heard that name before - where is the lower east side? In Mississippi?

"The man walks into our pads any time he wants, rips up furniture, throws clothing on the floor and read private mail. This he does in what he calls the "public interest." We dare to disagree and are busted for "Inciting to riot." If our disagreeing with the man's methods tends to incite a riot then the methods the man is using must be wrong...

Why are we busted.
We are busted because we want to create a liberated zone. Liberated from American pig diseases - the diseases of swine. Our rheotric still far outruns the reality of what we can accomplish. The man busts us for our rhetoric as well as for our reality.

Yesterday into the motherfucker store front walks a Lutheran sunday school field trip to the lower east side. A bus load of little short hair freak outs, afraid to move, making snotty comments. We said to them:

It's so depressing
next time bring your mothers

all that is of value in america lies with us. we are its custodian. now we are a harassed remnant. in the future that remnant will unravel into long threads with which to weave new values into the world.

the police use their clubs like tampax to stop the menstrual flood of revolution. the only thing that will stop it will be the birth of revolution - which will be bloody.

Said Officer Rainey in court the other day, "I do my job to the hilt." "Sooner this war gets started - sooner it will be over."

3.
at us for being the way we are and each day he sees his kids going to school with longer hair than the day before. They are scared we will knock down their tower of Life.
Who are they to talk after they have tried to knook down us! and tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum shall come! Wisdom 9th grade drop out.

How's things on the L E Side Brother.

Swinging tomorrow, every monday, monday at 9 and ten in the morning thousand comrades in the lockup on white st. 125, tombs of desolation vomit and lawyerly hope in the exaggeration pocket for we know too the comradely orbit we travel in and the gentle books we read and the three squares we have to deal with here, now, for us, here now
this is a prison where we are barely tolerated by the conspiracy of rockefeller morgan ford trust and cartels of hitler minded amrica first committees Joe kennedy the smell we smell in the pigs we know so well is you and your ilk, KILL THE ILKS
their way of thinging, of course
for they can't think except in pocketbooks of poor they rob for THEY have no purses to pocket, they never touch money or bankbooks but they rob us by the "welfare" they pay us here on LEside
here the interacial ghetto, the black and white barrio the barrio of love here
we have the barricades, here the buildings are bleeding for revolution, we hear the songs of the bricklayers who laid the bricks, of our grandfathers who builded this place, who grew cotton or rice or wheat and who were tired and weary of the slavery they had to undergo under the whip of intolerant morgan conspiracy

here in the faltering wings of future the dove eats its mother
there is no food in the crash pad tonight
in the crashing pads we create to house our community to house ourselves, to house our affinity groups
here in the anarchy the pure communism we are living in the loving last period before social illumination
in the time before the revolution that will splatter our bodies on fields we haven't seen from bowling green to chicago lakes, to bay area bruises, to wheatfields in kansas to jackson deaths and birmingham riots to atlanter and especially now in 68 we will go to new mexico and texas and arizona that there is a lower east sie too chicano companeros, tijerina we have heard your name

THERE IS A LOWER EAST SIGH we call vietnam, the left bank knows what we mean.
There is a Lower East Sigh we call tombs, Haarlem, Hazard KY. remember.
There is a Lower East Sigh, in a country without a mane

4.
The paint of non-violence peels off the tenament of compromise.

"Why is a molotov cocktail called after molotov?
 Why did Ho Chi Men join the 2dn international
 Why did the comintern recognize two parties in Mexico?" 

We have to strike the man 
Against the wall, as a mother-fucker 
'Cause you got to realize 
We're free, we're we
We're what we are
and what society makes us
We share, we take what is rightfully ours
Why not, don't you do the same.
We love, you hate
All things that make us safe
Leave us alone, let us be
If you listen to us you'll be surprised
How easily life can be met.
Many come to the village
To see what "Hippies" are
They go back home and say
"They're all funny dressing
And I heard they smoke
If I were their parents
I'll hit them with a strap."
(But they don't understand
But do we really do, too?)
"They have free sex
In crash-pads, I should say
Believe in Integration
Would you believe that"
(Why not, man
People is people, people is free)
Brutality the fuzz say
Is the only way to get these
Hippies out of our way
"Sandals and boots
and all kinds of soot
are picked up by "hippies"
Who don't even know their names.
So complains the public
When they don't even know
what freedom is
and I don't think they ever will."
--Wisdom, Betty, 9th grade drop out

Who the hell is Fidel Castro?
Never heard of her?

Never heard of doctors down here we have no sense 
of possession except in the most critical sense 
the kind exhibited by the glyph for yao,yu
"the first of the hundred best character" !!!

we think in first person plural, but without 
possessives except in most universal sense of 
planetary forces and emotions we cope with not 
in our dreams but in day to day trips