#baedan

Many anarchists have argued that this teleological framework is both ludicrous in its prophetic optimism, and stifling in its programmatic assertions (i.e. that our job is to find ways to advance society into a state of socialism). The progress of society is an illusion created by clever historians and propagandists, and the idea that somehow this historical train is locked into a track that leads to our shared liberation is both intoxicating and toxic. The “progress of society” might be better described as the “evolution of systems of power,” and as Bæden reminds us: “any progressive development can only mean a more sophisticated system of misery and exploitation.” In its refusal of Marxist teleology, Bæden takes up the ideas of Walter Benjamin to call for an attack on this kind of progressivism: “Marx says that revolutions are the locomotive of world history. But perhaps it is quite otherwise. Perhaps revolutions are an attempt by the passengers on this train… to activate the emergency break.” Anarcho-nihilism replaces the program of historical acceleration with one of negation. Rather than moving ourselves quickly along the train tracks of history towards a socialist utopia, we must derail the train and rupture history altogether.

Like the trains bound for Auschwitz, this movement of history is heading nowhere good and needs to be sabotaged at every possible turn.

Whereas once this progressivism was the domain of bright-eyed revolutionaries, capitalism has seized the tradition, meaning that we are now assaulted with it from all angles—whether through austerity and democratic participation or through patient and restrained “movement building,” we are constantly being asked to tolerate intolerable conditions today in order to work towards a brighter future. Using Lee Edelman’s queer theory text No Future as a frame work, Bæden sets out to explore how progressivism is used by mainstream society to keep us attached to the existing order. They argue that futurity is ubiquitously packaged with the image of The Child, the ultimate symbol of our commitment to the future—we must work now, we must compromise now, we must be patient now, in order to secure the well being of the next generation. The unspoken and dubious premise of this reasoning is that what is best for future generations is the preservation of the existing order. Through this lens, the widely-felt social pressure to have children is actually an obligation to reproduce society and capitalism. The term “reproductive futurity” refers to the way in which the very concept of reproduction becomes imbued with a commitment to the existing order. Bæden writes: “The ideology of reproductive futurism ensures the sacrifice of all vital energy for the pure abstraction of the idealized continuation of society.” Because this emphasis on securing a future for The Child prevents us from negating our present conditions, Bæden asks us to sever once and for all our attachment to reproductive futurity. The futures that are being dangled in front of our faces are a mirage that will continuously retreat as we move closer, and the cute, sacred image of The Child is often what prevents us from questioning that mirage. Instead, nihilism asks us to cut ourselves from any attachment to reproductive futurity, and instead “fight, hopeless, to tear our lives away from that expanding horizon and to erupt with wild enjoyment now.” What nihilism glimpses outside of progressivism and reproductive futurity is perhaps similar to what Rose Meth saw when she chose to resist despite a lack of hope: the insurrectionary mode of messianic time.

The Child, of course, has very little to do with real children. Like all people, children are enslaved under the political order of the state and capital, expected to bear the burden of being the innocent beneficiaries of political initiatives. No, rather the Child is the fantastic symbol for the eternal proliferation of class society. The Child represents the succession of generations and the continuation of this society beyond the lifespans of its living members. All politics, being concerned primarily with the Child, then reveal themselves to be only ever a process by which to manage and secure the continued existence of society.

Any possible escape from gendered constraint will likely involve both the explosive and clandestine tactics, but also methods which make these forms indistinguishable. When I don the black mask, I participate in the unfolding of a riot, but also withdraw from the apparatuses which would locate and identify me in this or that gender. I obscure my facial features, hair, body—anything which could be engendered; revealing instead my violence. The State, Media, and feminist Left endlessly insist that the violence belongs to men alone; this insistence itself forms another apparatus to capture and engender. My violence, taken from me by so many representations and politics of victimhood, returns and emanates from the inside outward. The black mask forms the fabric which stitches together the refusals of internal submission and external representation. Above all else, the following attacks destroy the barriers and separations within and without. I become a microcosms of the chaos around me, suspending the regulatory practices of identity.

A feral queerness must extend this effect to the whole of life. Whatever its form, it must take aim at life itself.

“ An enigmatic solution of sensitivity and judgment, she moves through the world with an irreducible sense of the forms that things must take.

She is severe in her wisdom as to the ways of the world.

An oscillating ball of force, she moves creature and object alike to her will and desire.

And to her, will is nothing but the shortest route to making things become what they will become anyway.

Her righteousness is her respect of fate.

Short of temper, protracted in bitterness, slow to forgiveness.

Others, blind to what is most obvious and resistant to what is most inevitable, provoke her rage.

Most often ignorant of herself, whether through social deprivation or sheer terror in the face of her capacities, and often most dangerous when swept unconsciously by the intensity of her unleashed emotions.

When keenly in sense of herself, she is most in touch with her power.

She often takes hold of her power with a stranglehold and becomes religious and weak.

When she learns to harness it with a rider’s touch, however, then in the dynamic balance of power and desire, she is unstoppable.”