"Worst casualties yet"

Reports from 2nd Battalion headquarters confirm hostile forces' use of biological weapons.

Soldiers from 2nd Company stationed in Himalchal Pradesh are reportedly the worst hit. Major S. Pliff of 2nd Company states that American soliders have suffered the "worst causalities yet of the campaign".

The attack occured at midnight of the 30st October during a routine training exercise. One victim, Private Marks, recovering in an undisclosed location comments. "At first I felt nothing. There was a just a thick blue smoke. Then all of a sudden it hit me: I couldn't move my legs. I couldn't moved and eventually I just passed out"

Military Intelligence sources say 2nd Company were hit by a toxin that naturally occurs in Central Asia. The particular "indica" strain is particularly potent, causing mental disorientation, paralysis, drowsiness and paranoia in its victims. Last night up to 30 infrantry and one journalist were said to have been affected. Though Major S.Pliff assures there were no fatalities, the toxic effects of Indica are said to be long term, and lead to other harder cases.

Chemical weapons specialist Major Colonel C. Sativa (retired) suggests the attack will not be an isolated incident. "This is a naturally occurring toxin and the resinous glands can in minutes be put together to make a bomb. Its a little too early to speculate, but its quite probable that our forces were last night hit by traditional water pipe, used by Afghani's as a powerful weapon for centuries." He also dismissed suggestions that America itself had been using a genetic child of the Indica crop in its own chemical weapons programme. "Any connection between Indica and the Western "Skunk missile" is utter conjecture." As were suggestions that the same had been used widely in domestic campaigns agains civil disobedience in the States.

Private Marks of 2nd Company remarking. "We completely lost control. Most of us dropped our weapons. Some of the lads just sat on the mountain for hours and watched the fireworks over Kabul". Machine Gummer Roach was worse affected, and according to medics, developed a latent schizophrenia. Acoording to Marks "he went completely crazy. He started shouting "lets save this beautiful country and live communally with its natives sharing ideas and experiences". Army intelligence refused journalists any contact with the victim.

The Home Office today gave the following statement. "This atrocity furthers the resolve of Britain and the coalitions united campaign against terror. Weapons of mass enlightenment are the latest threat to the Western civilised world. The long history of Afghanistan's use of these substances are further proof that the course of military action against terrorists and those that harbour them adopted by the coalition is the correct and only humanitarian option".

The Home office Spokesperson dismissed claims that they were 'a bunch of fucking hypocrites'.

“Racism is good like sex,” pronounced George (soon to be “a nice little severance package”) Sampson. The Weasle Councillor last night rebutted claims that there was no room for explicit racial thinking in the Conservative party. “Of course we are racists,” he said; “ some of my best friends are black”. He further went on to say, “I have the most ordinary collection of prejudices, would you like to hear some?”

Under fire form John Prescott in the Commons, accusing him of ‘letting the cat out of the bag,’ Conservative Leader Ian Duncan Smith admitted that Sampson had ‘let the side down badly’. He however rejected demands by labour backbencher Prissy Beech, that sanctions should be immediately imposed with the threat of ensuing military action. “Since November the 11^th” began Prescott amidst groans from the backbenches, “nothing will stop our resolve to rid the world of races,…”. With this, at once greeted by cheers of approval, the democratically mandated unaminously resolved to settle it all with a game of cricket. “With lashings of ginger beer” added the speaker with a grin.

Heads; you bowl, tails; we send in ground forces”…announced the start of the first parliamentary session. The coin was flipped. “Heads it is” declared the referee. “Good show old chap” exclaimed the foreign secretary, elected captain for the stint at Lords. “…my eldest is in the bally RAF” he chortled. The game was underway as soon as the bombers were scrambled….

Meanwhile in a grassy little hollow somewhere between London and Paris a storm was brewing… Fifi was all in a kafuffle. “Oh dilly dally donuts” she cried “The Vicar is coming to tea, and I forgot to put the buns in the oven, whatever will I do. “ Fifi sat on her favourite chair and buried her head in her hands. Yet just when she thought there was no end to her despair, she had an idea. “Yes. Yes. Yes” she screamed. “I know what to do, I’ll set up a website!!!”. Her hair in a mess, her mascara stained tear- flooded cheeks, she snapped her self into action…”Taxi please, yes…to the university …erm…what do you mean ‘which one’…the bloody university one for god sakes….whadya mean there are two……………..&c”.

After an anxious drive through a strange green valley Fifi found herself in what she was pretty sure was, or was some part of, the University of the Earl of Sussex. Daddy still wasn’t answering his cellular; he’s at a cricket match apparently. At the university it was market day or some such thing, and people were busily bustling about.. But Fifi couldn’t find her way in this maze. “Oh I know its here I know its here somewhere” she cried. In renewed despair she grabbed a passer by. “You must help me: you must.”. “My dear, what ails”, said a soft reassuring voice. “Please, I am looking for the library” she spluttered. “ Ahhh…” said the kind voice of Professor Sampson “ you are looking for the path to knowledge my child………”

Miscellanea

Collection of Soviet Antiwar/anti-german propoganda

 Somewhere between the photocopiers and the short loan, Fifi had an experience unlike one she’d ever had before; the rape of this virgin mind was as brutal as it was quick. Nature knew no greater power than Sampson as he disseminated his genes. They slammed into Fifi like the cold steel rivets from a gun. Our poor heroine. Fifi. All she had ever done to anything was to overbake a sponge. Now as she stands and wipes her glowing brow, the skies darken as the western political process looms larger. “Quick you’d better take cover” said Sampson wrapping the shivering innocent in his professorial gown. “I sure hate them goddam niggers” replied Fifi hawking and spitting on the library floor.

As operation ‘restore racial meaning’ drew to a close, the smoke cleared on a changed campus. Scattered amongst the rubble lay the bodies of those people; those people that had harboured the terrorists. But there was hope in the smokey air as life began to get back to normal. Civilians crept out of the wreckage of what once were their spiritual homes, unaware perhaps of quite what had turned their small community into a war zone. Shell shocked by the bombs, but shocked too at the speed and precision of the democratic process, the people began to assemble in small groups. Mircalously one building had remained standing, unharmed by the bombing. All of the windows were shattered and pages from books littered the surrounding terrain. “This is a sign!” shouted a voice from the wreckage. People turned to look. The voice belonged to a man in a long dark gown. “It is knowledge that has brought this upon us” he continued. “He’s right! Burn the books” shouted another man. “Yes, burn the books”. “And the niggers” continued the first man. “Yes, burn the books and the niggers” sang the crowd. As they set to work a new community was formed.

Peter Mandelson -  beaten by spin - 0

Twin Towers –       (9/11) middle stump 0

Bordieu  –             long straight ball

Gadamer –             run out

Jean Paul Sartre  – retired hurt 0

Louis Althusser  – stumped

Michel Foucault – caught in the gulley 4

Queen Mum –         still super for her age 102

British Paratroop regiment: - minus 18

People’s princess – beaten by spin

Al Queda–               not out  (07937 455 3888)

Princess Margaret – played a loose ball to cover 27

Habermas 1 – not out

Even though the momentary campaign for the immediate abolition of work has not even got off the ground yet, it has already struck terror into the hearts and minds of the ruling classes. The slighest questioning of the role of work in our lives and the demand to expand our free time, touches on the central nerve of our social system.

Still waiting for a technical engineer to swoop it up and make it interactive, the MCIAW is sitting silently and threatening, audaciously flaunting the covert censorship on any discussion about liberation rather than obedience. Once it takes flight MCIAW will guarantee definte results in distracting punters from the job in hand and into an ideational realm where ideas of freedom, leisure and pleasure can grow to be a full time occupation.

Click to view picture story

A photo collection of images from the first day of protest at the Genoa Social Forum 2001

Picture story continued

(lets get into the red zone)

Photos from the following days in Genoa.

We met some dark people in a dark room in Vienna.  You can see a lot of it on video here

Make world could be nothing other than an assemblage, a converge of powers in a communication. Make world is a command as well as a question. As a command it expresses a spirit of taking charge over our tools and creations. As a question it challenges our disposition to think in the negative. For
why should we not Make World? Are we so virtuous a generation as to be spiritually immune from being dispossessed of our power?

Make world comes into being where the dialectic of appropriation and reappropriation fractures. It expresses itself purely as an enactment, as an exercise in unconstrained production. Its art of maneouver is to cross borders as it refuses to accept any borders or boundaries on its own capacity to evolve. Thus the object of Make World is a collaboration not restricted to anyone imagination. Digital generation can act in no other way than through recombination; the breaking of limits through association. It bids farewell to the crisis aesthetics that spawned the monstrous runt of individualistic entrepreneurship and is a scandal to the pitiful
privatisation of the general intellect through the machinations of the suited gangsters that zealously guard the vaults of human potential as well as its auxilliary parcelisation into the legalistic garb of intellectual property.

Make world is more than a reclamation. It opens up the war onto many fronts. It is disobedient because it is the multutide speaking for itself, outside of its juridification into legal and illegal, legitmate and illegimate. As such it percieves that the discourse of responsibility, moral constraint and the language of legitimacy merge in the command structures of governance. That we can speak of Make World unveils subjectivities that by necessity of their own demand for life displace the mechanisms of subjugation and command into arenas where established power is forced to expose the arbitary character of its own impulse to order. In not accepting any sectoralisation of the terrain of struggle the multitude that makes world refuses to be Subject, it refuses representation and counterpoised to the velcro symbolism of
capitalisms' spectacular night it emerges from the shadows and blinks at the light.

Read the Make World Paper here