About
My understanding of DIY-Culture is simple:
if you need something, you better learn to make it yourself.
And why wouldn’t this apply to culture? Or worlds even?
Of course, in reality, it must.
If we find ourselves to be curiously redacted from the cultural representations on offer, then our only recourse is to take a crowbar to the locked doors of culture.
To let ourselves in – daub its walls with our dirty, seditious marks, fill these derelict and lifeless towers with our unapologetic presence.
Tut with faux distaste as our dogs piss on the monuments.
And not as a means of telling our stories, nor by way of justifying our presence – this is just because we can.
Because we are makers, we are active agents of refusal:
We are the Horny-Handed Sons and Daughters of Toil.
So Shhh, rest your pretty heads now, my sweet obedient ones – no more worn-out old bedtime stories.
We don’t need to be placated. We don’t need to know our place in the world. We don’t need any more fairytales of who we are.
Art is just as simple:
It is the making of things we need.
It is fierce and joyous and terrifying and absurd.
All those good and dangerous things grow within it.
If you just let them.
If you just stop pouring weed killer on the wildness in hope of a lawn.
“We have always lived in slums and holes in the wall. We will know how to accommodate ourselves for a time. For, you must not forget, we can also build. It is we the workers who built these palaces and cities here in Spain and in America and everywhere. We, the workers, can build others to take their place. And better ones! We are not in the least afraid of ruins.”
DURRUTI
WELCOME TO ZEN FOR THE APOCALYPSE
BREATHE IN.
BREATHE OUT.
LET YOUR MIND EMPTY OF ANY THOUGHT.
PICTURE YOURSELF ON A RADIOACTIVE BEACH.
MOLOTOV COCKTAIL IN HAND.
IT’S TIME TO DANCE THE APOCALYPSO,
SO ROLL OUT YOUR MAT AND OPEN YOUR THIRD EYE…