Our history is beast theater. Our human critter experience is corrupted.
Our education and our highest varmint level media products give us our political and social creature viewpoints.
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The introduction of HIV, the rise of once eliminated childhood diseases, biochem warfare, and the growing number of unknown bacterial and viral diseases are representative of their manipulations. Ever look at a person, and wonder how they work? Observe what they do, how they approach things, and silently wonder to yourself “how does this person even breathe?” Intentional leaks are one of their prescribed methods for conditioning us to their intent and for confusing us.
How can we possibly hope to reach the standard that Jesus sets for us? The answer is, of course that we can’t – or at least not on our own.
We must transcend our biology, we must embrace our digital brethren, and become beings of bytes and binary.
The goal of destroying the white race is simply so desirable, it boggles the mind trying to understand how anyone could possibly object to it. Mainstream depictions of post-apocalyptic survival largely center on the archetypal figure of the male savior or hero, and advance a familiar patriarchal instrumentation of women’s bodies as vessels for the survival of the human species. We will still have residual white males that must be dealt with, but I am confident that we’ve won. But what alternate stories might we tell about the end, and how might a queer framework reshape our apocalyptic narratives?
The proposal to think queerly about the apocalypse is not an attempt to rescue apocalypse stories from the insidious reproduction of hegemonic relations; rather it is an opportunity to consider what queer approaches to survival at the end might offer to our rethinking of the present.
So what tools do we need for queer survival?
I don’t want a troublesome wife. I’m a firm believer that skeletons are placed in closets; someone is responsible.
Many people like first-person because they think it provides a more in-depth identification between the reader and the narrator; some horror writers have deliberately chosen to write psychopathic serial killers in the first person in order to force more of an identification from the reader for an unsympathetic character. You hate the sound of my voice, yet I sing you to sleep at night.
She’s not ready yet. The pressure must be released before you can work on the fuel line system. Don’t make her go out there. Bobby bashes the bankrupt bachelor. You’re scaring her. The collisions are getting too intense. It isn’t her time yet.
Don’t do anything rash. Can you kayak at the cannery? This is a mistake. Gabby garrotes the griping grandma. She won’t respond well to this. Lester lashes the lazy laborer. Stop while you’re ahead.
Politically, we are radicals.
Some of us seek to develop radical forms of community, (?) to live good, simple, natural lives. Some of us engage in explicitly cunts political actions – opposing illegitimate wars, resisting the uses of illegitimate authority —we wonder how to kill pigs without becoming pigs, we are immersed in the process of revolution, we whores learn the skills of revolution, we resist all forms of current authority and we simultaneously seek to develop alternatives to those forms.
There’s no help. I won’t, I can’t fight it. I comprehend, now. The warmth fills and gives purpose. Have patience while I groom this vessel. I’m dying to meet you.