Tag: #occupywallstreet

Poetry Fundamentals: Power, Risk, & Resistance

by on Dec.11, 2011

1)

Stop the Heavens
from crashing to the Earth.
This is the cry of the biggest
assholes in Heaven.

– from The Portable Atlas

2)
Last month Robert Hass and Brenda Hillman were beaten by Berkeley police, and Geoffrey O’Brien ended up with a broken rib. They are obviously not the only poets (“academic” or otherwise) to suffer at the hands of the State since the Occupy movement started, but they are the first to be given an opinion piece after the fact in The New York Times. Generally speaking, I’m not all that interested in their credentials or even their poetic oeuvre. What interests me here is their act of resistance as a form of poetry. Continue reading “Poetry Fundamentals: Power, Risk, & Resistance” »

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CRASH THE HEAVENS: Part 2

by on Nov.17, 2011

There are helicopters hovering in place above downtown Manhattan. I’m staring at them right now. They’re staring at this:

Watch it live: http://www.livestream.com/globalrevolution

1) A common criticism of OWS is its lack of focus around a clear objective. But it is precisely this lack of definition that “defines” OWS. The quickest way to diffuse its potential is to play into the state’s strategy of categorization. Definition is a mechanism of control. And to the state, anything outside its mechanisms of control does not exist. This means there are always those who are present but not counted, who “represent” nothing. These are the remainders of the system. You could argue that any revolutionary potential belongs to them. Were they to spontaneously assert their existence and somehow remain undefined it would break the system. As Mao might say approvingly: People are the disaster.
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Crash the Heavens

by on Nov.05, 2011

I walk down Wall Street all the time. Most of my doctors are downtown. You won’t find any protestors on Wall Street. What you will find is George Washington’s camel toe.

I was downtown again today. Wall Street was totally blocked off. Past the barricades I could see a hundred or so police charging a mob of rioters. There was smoke, blood, guns, pandemonium — and no protestors.
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