I have an interest in revolutionary military science, and as such tend to look for resonance with all manner of movements aimed at destroying authority regardless of their place in time. One of the overwhelming examples of this is the image of Boudicea, queen of the Iceni Tribe (Central coast of Britain, circa 60 CE). The story goes that her husband had decreed upon his death that the kingdom of the Iceni was to be shared equally between the Roman interlopers and his surviving wife–Boudicea, and their daughters. At this time wealthy Romans had been making outrageously large loans to the Iceni that upon the king’s death were meant to be immediately repaid. Thus for those of you who think the US Treasury, Wall Street and IMF Criminal Triad is something new and have been pulling monetarists tricks on colonial powers to drive them into poverty and servitude is a modern invention, think again. Evil men have used greed and steel since the beginning of history to destroy societies with purer hearts and minds. The local Roman commander summons Boudicea and her daughters to his presence where the mother is flogged and the daughters brutally raped by Roman legionnaires. Once released Boudicea begins enrolling other tribes like the Trinovantes, among others to destroy the Roman occupation of Britain, and brother does she mean it. The first city to fall is Camulodunum (modern Colchester), and she leaves very little living, in the process destroying the temple to the Emperor Claudius in flaming ruins. She also destroys the IX Hispana Legion sent to relieve the city. Next stop is Londinium, (London) and here one truly sees into the heart of woman as nemesis. Suetonius, the Roman Governor, realizes that he has far too few troops to defend the burgeoning city, and leaves it undefended. Boudicea with her allegiant tribes murders virtually all the inhabitants ( all told some 70,000 were put to the sword) and then systematically destroys the city, block by block. There is a coring sample in the British Museum that shows a full several inches of blackened, bloodied soil that attests to Boudicea’s anger and her rather thorough plans for London’s very first Urban Renovation. Unfortunately the time spent destroying Londinium also allows the Romans to regroup and attack. » Read more..
Archive for September 18, 2012
The story by Dan Todd is presented here in the original verse format. The book is currently in print in a prose edition published under the pseudonym Lang Gore.
. . . I went unto the angel, and said unto him, Give me the little book. And he said unto me, Take it, and eat it up; and it shall make thy belly bitter, but it shall be in thy mouth sweet as honey. And I took the little book out of the angel’s hand, and ate it up; and it was in my mouth sweet as honey; and as soon as I had eaten it, my belly was bitter.
-Revelation 10:9, 1
Bay grimaced. “Fucking bladder is about to burst;
I know there is no way in fucking hell
That I will make it off this goddamn bus
Before I piss my fucking pants;
I will piss my fucking pants before we stop,
I know I will, I know I will,”
He malevolently muttered beneath his breath. » Read more..
So I attended the LA Anarchist Book Fair this last weekend (September 8, 2012), and had a pretty good time. The Usual Suspects were there selling books that spanned the range from working class anarchism all the way to the post-left anarchist experiment. A nice mix of folks, old and young, Latino, white and black swirling past the tables picking up this pamphlet and that book. I had a table given to me by the organizers that had belonged to a group who had canceled last minute–if they read this Thanks! You folks did an awesome job. So I sold a few Modern Slavery’s and enjoyed the sun; topped it off with a vegan tamale and left at about four. One striking thing in all this is the level of energy that happens at these events, and the sneaking suspicion that given the chance these folks could, in a heartbeat, make this great sprawling city into a garden, a refuge, a place where poverty had become impossible, and where the measure of life is happiness, and not suffering. I also, for the younger folks, felt a deep sentiment of appreciation and gratitude, when in the late 70s and 80s the world was turning into a global insane asylum a handful of holdouts were stubborn enough to keep a thin black flame burning–and hoping for better days. I count myself as one of those last men and women on the barricade. And better days are here, at last, let’s not waste them. The police fear us–they tell as much in their press releases, the FBI is sure that we’re all putting acid in eggs (LSD?) let’s make that shock and awe stick. Better Dead than Fed! Every night this week a cop should wake up in a cold sweat and feel his sphincter tingle at the thought of a line of anarchists facing him down, or even worse because he’s thinking of joining us because he knows he’s on the wrong side. We have an entire world to take back from our enemies. Lets do it quickly–before they have a chance to try and smother the flame yet again.