#philli

Model: Philly or Philli Photographer: 2lowephoto https://www.flickr.com/photos/137486875@N02/51092735971/in/album-72157719044536912/

*hits small pot hole to avoid bigger pot hole*

When a road is level and straight it seems weird

‘Is the road warped or did i pop a tire?’

*Considers risking your life for a coffee at Wawa in the morning rush*

*Sees a shitty driver* ‘Of COURSE hes from fucking JERSEY’

*Nearly shitting yourself when the gas attendant taps on your window in a gas station in Jersey*

*being happy when it snows more than a few inches because the pot holes will be temporarily filled*

*Then cringing when the snow melts and you see all the damage to the road from salting and plowing*

‘Is that person flashing their lights to me or is the road just bumpy?’

‘Oh, yeah, it’s real close. Like an hour or two drive.’

*Tells out how far something is from Philli as a reference of distance* ‘Like an hour from Philli.’

Philly J20 Report Back 

It’s not because Trump won. Its not because Hillary lost. Its because fuck all this. Its because the world is burning and the only way to ignore it is to side with the death culture– turning life into commodities. Trump is merely today’s incarnation of “democracy;” the logical extensions of capitalism, imperialism white supremacy, patriarchy, and all the systems that undergird “democracy” under any president. Because democracy is synonymous with capture. Because its all supposed to happen like this. In four or eight more years a new figurehead of the same system to march around blocks about. Because shits not working, folks.

As if we think broken windows and spray paint will change any of it. Of course it won’t. No window will ever be enough. No march, no rally, no bloc, no president. can we take seriously anything nowadays? Are we seriously still debating violence vs. non-violence. Property vs. life. Its farcical. The “system”, “protest”… Laughable, and yet dire, with real consequences for land, animals, people. Because actually, we’re dying. Because amidst all the rhetoric of hope, the closest glimpse we see sometimes is in people willing to throw down for each other- for some vision, fractured as it may be, that we can fight back, that we can be fearless, that we can strike, be ungovernable, remind ourselves, if no one else, that some part of our minds and bodies hasn’t yet been domesticated by our masters. It could be 100,000 people evicting the halls of D.C. – and would be a resurrection from suffocation, but instead, 100 here, 50 there… we are a death gasp. Signs of life in a dying body.

Signs of life in philly. 40 rebels affiliated only by our actions; no group, no platform. 20 minutes in the streets of one of philly’s most cop-friendly areas at 7pm on a busy friday night thoroughfare. Our rage left dripping from walls, shattered across sidewalks, and left upon cars, gentry property, peddlers of bourgeois excess, banks, atms, symbols of the capital that survives off the life of everyone. More life breathed into our bloc by the vast support of onlookers, who joined in; “fists up, fight back”, “kill your local fascist” (of which south philly is a haven), “a-anti-anticapitalista” etc. Shit got got. If your shit got hit, remember its not about you. Its bigger than you because, fuck all of this, right? Because, Everything.

As we disbanded safely before the lurking eyes of police, a shout, “its been real great, see you all next time!” And everyone faded back into the precarious turbulence.