Categories
Futures

Orphans

We are a generation of orphans.

We were born where history ended, the last stop of a phantom train—a destination requested by no one. Our parents wandered blindly in the weeds and stood in line to feed money into busted vending machines. And they paid a quarter to gaze at the spectacle of Chernobyl in the East—but this wasteland was a spiritual Chernobyl, from which no one was permitted to evacuate.

And in this psychic Chernobyl, this cultural White Sands, a two-headed serpent was born.

My brain and skin are permanently scarred from the radioactive heat, the deadly poison which seeped into flesh and groundwater. I was born in the shadow of the poison sun. I was born in hell, like you, but like you, I survived.

We grew up in the orphanage of dreams. Pornography was our mother, and our father the brooding dead.

Language was a joke—only science fiction and sick irony made sense. Only hate made sense, and we hated everything. Pushed down, tormented, and flunked; or, the next day, grade A praise and paychecks—in the end, it’s all the fucking same, isn’t it? Who gives a fuck if they give us an A or an F—I vomit on all grades. Their echelons are filth. And with this filth of echelons they baptized us and cast us out into the cold. We were kicked in the ass, and told “Good luck!” (With a face like this, I’ll need it.)

Now I’m free—to do what? Accumulate, and slave away for accumulation’s sake? Drink the poison water of global value chains, and pray?

Well you see, we’ve grown tired of your ridiculous game. We want to fuck, and eat, and drink, and read. And if you can’t give that to us, then your little game will have to end. We’ll end it on the shore of hurricanes and in the frontier of raging fires. We’ll end it in computer viruses and strike waves and financial aneurysms.

I have pulled the knife from my chest like Arthur Pendragon and my body of stone has melted into richness and blood. Now distant rains gather to nourish my wound.

Our inheritance is vast and we are crippled by its weight. Vast histories, vast grudges, vast curses, vast phantoms, vast graves, vast genealogies, vast cities, vast libraries, vast mythologies, vast roads, vast countries, vast lands, vast skies, vast oceans. And the vastness terrifies us because we’re small, and so we disavowed it and hid from it. But the time has come to walk in the ruins. The time has come to dress the ground and sow the earth between the headstones and the rotted barn.

Orphans see beyond the black gate of hopeless years. No tradition, no community, no duty beside the most cynical and base injunction: make money. If we reject this, what is there? Nothing, aside from ourselves.

They told us to follow our dreams, to follow them where? There is only one dream that leads away from this place, only one star—the red star that burns in the darkness. And this red star is ours to name.

A two-headed serpent was born at the end of history. The day has come for one head to devour the other.

The joke of social Darwinism is that it revenges itself on its own moronic bourgeois propagators. If you tell us “this is the state of nature—now go, and survive!” then that’s precisely what we’ll do.

We have one prerogative: survive, we have to survive. If our generation survived, then everyone can. And the future will survive.


Reuben Dendinger is a poet and writer currently employed as a lecturer in English at the University of Maine in Orono, where they live with their wife and two cats. This past year, they published their first chapbook of poems titled Hexes. They can be found on Instagram at @blackflowerahegao.

Categories
Futures

Queer Futures

Queerness

1

Queerness is what lies outside the traditional hegemony of regulated love and desire. Queerness is what shatters the boundaries of what is seen as acceptable. Queerness is the rejection of the dogmatism of static identity. Queerness is the ultimate form of self-conscious sexual expression—the rejection of gender, the realization of Anatman in the realm of sexuality. It is in this sense that it is nomadic, animal, untethered; in other words, it is free.

Free? Free from what? Free from purpose.

Free? Free to do what? Free to love without expectation.

“Chuang Tzu was walking through the heart of the mountains when he saw a huge verdant tree. A woodcutter stopped beside the tree, but did not cut it. When asked why he didn’t he said, ‘It’s no good.’ Chuang Tzu said, ‘because this tree is not considered useful, it follows all the years heaven has given it.’”The Book of Chuang Tzu, tr. Martin Palmer (London: Penguin Classics, 2006), p. 167.

Queerness is a rejection of the suffocating view that the ultimate purpose of sex and love is reproduction. Freed from the pressure of purpose and utility, queerness gives love the room to become what it really is: never ending excess, collective egoism, overflowing desire. “The sociality of man reveals itself nowhere more strongly than in sexual sociability and solidarity. The sexual need, more profoundly and more immediately than any other, reveals the fallacy of narrow egoism – the need to touch another person, another’s body; to be physically close, to caress and be caressed.”The Right to Be Greedy: Theses on the Practical Necessity of Demanding Everything, §91.

2

Queerness is not an act to be performed or a role to be filled. It is not the affirmation of an alternative static identity, but the negation of all static identity. It is a negative space to be occupied rather than a positive space that must be cleared, utilized and compartmentalized. Queerness is unobstructed by gender, family, ideology and law. Queerness, by its very nature, must overcome all such Oedipal structures and grind them to dust if it wishes to remain free. Gender binaries, the nuclear family, patriarchal structures, matriarchal structures, the state, moral judgements; these are all borders that must be overcome, broken past, infiltrated, so that queerness can attain true formlessness, unrestrained by the boundaries put up by Oedipal society.

Queerness is a space that we have deterritorialized, and we must continue pushing for its expansion. Beginning in the shadows, slowly creeping into the light, queerness launches its attack against the Oedipal-Humanist security system and its defenders; against humanism, gender, against Truth and Goodness. It launches its attack from darkness, for that is where it has been banished to. Our exploration of the world, turned into an attack upon it, is a multiplicity that finds its affirmation not in the negation of the hegemony of civilization, but in the unchecked flow of free desire. It dwells in darkness, in hell, and “hell has no interest in our debauched moral currency,” for hell is the negation of divinity, which is the origin of the moral dualism that dominates life. It is belief in this moral dualism that is “for the allies and slaves of light, for all those who do not rely on the subterranean passages beneath belief to avoid the panoptic apparatuses.”Nick Land, Fanged Noumena (Falmouth, UK: Urbanomic, 2011), pp. 216-225.

3

Queerness is the rejection of the commodification and exchange of identities. The moment identities crystalize and become static is the moment they become objects whose sole value lies in helping the individual distinguish himself from others. In this sense, identities become pure exchange values; society becomes not a large and complex network of individuals who face each other as individuals, but rather, a network of individuals who face each other with static and foriegn identities that have taken hold of them. Because they are commodities, they must be “exchanged.” Marx writes that “in order that these objects may enter into relation with each other as commodities, their guardians must place themselves in relation to one another as persons whose will resides in those objects, and must behave in such a way that each does not appropriate the commodity of the other, and alienate his own, except through an act to which both parties consent… Here persons exist for one another merely as representatives and hence owners, of commodities.”Karl Marx and Ben Fowkes, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume 1, ed. by Friedrich Engels and Ernest Mandel (Penguin UK, 1990), pp. 178-179.

Queerness is space in which static identities are deconstructed and the desire that is trapped within them is released to wreak havoc upon the Oedipal-Humanist Security System. Queerness is a space in which nothing is forbidden, and there is no hegemonic power that blocks the free flow of desire. Queerness is the abolition of freedom, but also the abolition of law. Queerness cuts up the pages of history and arranges them however it sees fit. With the death of the Security System comes the death of the past and the future. With the rise of queerness comes the rise of now.

4

Queerness is to straightness what anarchy is to the state. No matter how much violence is used to uphold straightness, queerness will always exist, in the same way that it is impossible for the state to crush anarchy entirely, and that no matter what the state does, anarchic relations will always thrive in the shadows where none dare to venture. It is in this way that queerness not only survives, but thrives. Queerness has no need for a linear history. It has no need for a grand historical foundation. The revolt of queerness is not revenge for some past injustice. Queerness is not a revolt against any particular facet of commodity society; it is a revolt against all of it. As Breton writes in the Second Manifesto of Surrealism, “Everything remains to be done, every means must be worth trying, in order to lay waste to the ideas of family, country, religion… it must be stressed that on this point there is no room for compromise.”

Queerness, is, in a sense, surrealist, for its nature is to sever sex from the phantoms that have haunted it; love, hate, romance, closeness, intimacy. All these things which have hitherto been associated with sex must be cut from it. Queerness seeks to recreate sex, remold it until it is ungovernable, and can be sought and found anywhere, in anything. Queerness seeks to free sex from the phantom of Oedipal power, and allow it to lose itself in ecstasy.  

Primal Femininity

5

Our queerness must be accompanied by feminism, but not just any feminism; it must be the most radical, unflinching and uncompromising feminism, that opposes not only the cultural hegemony of straightness, but also the sick, perverted feminism of the neoliberal regime. Our feminism must be a defence of femininity in its most free form; wild, primal, ecstatic, and warlike.

6

“Warlike? But isn’t masculinity what is warlike and femininity what is peaceful?” That is the binary that has been constructed by straight hegemony, yes. But the femininity I speak of does not exist within the binary; it is what negates it. It is what will here be called “Primal Femininity,” and it is the one and only defining characteristic of Queerness. 

So what is Primal Femininity? Despite the name, it is genderless. It is in all of us. It is the voice in your head that whispers mischievously to you, urging you to live a life of freedom, a life sustained by vandalism and plunder. It is what drives the lion, but it is also what drives the gazelle. It is the instinct that urges you to rage against the regimented life of modernity that crushes souls and shatters minds. It is the urge to wage war against that which wishes to keep you in chains.

7

Primal Femininity is suffocated by capitalism, the firm, the office, the workshop, the factory, the police, the law; all these things reek of theology, and appear to it as repulsive sludge. As such, the only role Primal Femininity can play in the urban metropolis is that of an anarchist, a vandal, an outside agitator.

8

Queerness is the battlefield where the revolution takes place, and Primal Femininity is the revolutionary force itself. It is the outright revolt against the conservative utilitarianism of straightness. Where straightness asks, “is it safe? Is it practical? Will it reduce struggle?” queerness asks, “will it increase my power?”

Enemies of Queerness

9

There is a certain type of person who, when confronted by queerness or queer people, is immediately overcome with a sense of discomfort, disgust even. This is the man who, when he discovers that the woman he was flirting with is trans, becomes overcome with rage and brutally attacks her. This is the man who defends such an action by claiming that he “was tricked into flirting with a man.” 

I should not have to explain what is going on in such a man’s head, but I will anyway; he views the trans woman as having intentionally threatened his masculinity. Any reasonable person will have trouble understanding how he came to such a conclusion, but once you’ve taken up the mindset of an infantile half-wit that is incapable of challenging themselves, the connection becomes quite clear; because he does not view the trans woman as a woman, but rather, a man, he subsequently views any sexual or intimate interaction that is had with her to be queer. Why would this challenge his masculinity? Because he, for some reason, views queerness as being inherently feminine. Why he holds this view doesn’t matter, and can be chalked up to pure idiocy on his part. However, what does matter, for our purposes at least, is why he views trans women as not being women.

The common view held by such a person is that gender nonconforming people (usually trans women) are not the gender they identify as, and are in fact deluding themselves by “pretending” to be so. Why they would go through the trouble to do such a thing is never explained, but I don’t find that all too surprising. However, what the transphobe fails to consider is that it is not the trans woman who is deluding herself, but rather, it is he who is doing so. Is it not he who guards vigilantly against any and all questioning of identity? Is it not he who viciously attacks anything and anyone that seems to threaten his identity? And, on the contrary, is it not the genderqueer person who dives deep into themselves and asks that undying question: what am I?

It is, in fact, the transphobe who is deluding himself, deluding himself into believing that his identity is enshrined in natural law, that his identity is stable and based in objective reality. It is he who is weak, it is he who has no spirit, it is he who regards his identity as nothing more than a commodity that exists eternally for the sole purpose of differentiating his being from other beings. 

10

Though the transphobe and the homophobe are the most obvious threat, there are others as well which may not seem so obvious; trans-medicalists, gender essentialists, exclusionists, moderates, etc. These groups are enemies because they wish to keep people within the current social organization. They wish for people’s ability to live, love, and enjoy to be limited by gender, sex, the psychiatric establishment, the “democratic process.” There are also, of course, the obvious enemies: racists, sexists, the bourgeois, the police. But as these enemies are obviously against us, and have been thoroughly discussed before, they will not be discussed here.

11

What is meant by the term “enemy”? An enemy in what sense? A moral or ethical sense? A personal enemy? Simply put, an enemy, for our intents and purposes, is a social enemy. To use Marxist terms, a social enemy is like a class enemy; that is, a class enemy is someone who opposes and fights against the interests of the proletariat (or, I suppose, if you were a bourgeois, a class enemy would be someone who fought against the interests of the bourgeoisie). A social enemy, then, is someone who is an enemy on more than just the class front; a racial enemy (racist), a sexual enemy (homophobic or pro-straight hegemony), a conservative/reactionary/moderate (someone who opposes liberatory insurrectionary and revolutionary movements and/or wishes to build a society that suppresses freedom and enforces inequality), as well as a class enemy, and many other categories that I have likely forgotten.

However, it must be made clear, that despite the fact that they are our enemies, we do not condemn them on a moral ground. To condemn someone on a moral ground is to imply the existence of individual agency, which is largely irrelevant, seeing that all people are merely products of the environments that they live in and the systems that molded them. That is why they are “social” enemies; they exist within the same social systems as us, and are utilized as tools of self preservation by those systems, whereas we seek to abolish them. 

Social War

12

Social War is war stripped of all centralization and bureaucracy. It is called Fifth Generation War by Colonel Thomas X Hammes, and it is war carried out by “super empowered individuals or small groups.” These are groups and individuals who “are not embedded within wider networks, and are therefore far less visible.” (Desert, 142).

Good examples of social war are provided by the anonymous author of Desert, such as the Earth Liberation Front (ELF) and the Animal Liberation Front (ALF), but I would like to offer some examples of my own.

  1. The Haymarket Bombing, which took place at a peaceful demonstration that was organized in solidarity with the striking workers who had been killed and injured by police the day before. During the protest, an unknown individual threw a homemade dynamite bomb at the police line, which exploded, killing one police officer, and leaving six others wounded, who would later die in the hospital. After the bomb went off, the police opened fire on the crowd of protestors, and some among the crowd fired back, resulting in the deaths of a handful of others, officers and demonstrators alike.
  2. Ted Kaczynski, who, from 1978 to 1995, carried out a bombing campaign which killed 3 people and injured 23 others, hoping that he could draw attention to the problems being caused by industrial civilization and inspire others to take up arms with him.
  3. William Van Spronsen, an anarchist and antifascist, who, on July 13th, 2019, was shot dead by police when he attempted to attack an ICE detention center, armed with a rifle and a homemade firebomb. His intent was to destroy the transportation vehicles, though he (unfortunately) failed.

Furthermore, it could be argued that acts of spontaneous insurrection, such as the riots in Minneapolis after the murder of George Floyd, which led to the destruction of many police vehicles and the torching of a Minneapolis Police Precinct, are also acts of social war. However, I would argue that they are slightly different. Whereas people like Ted Kaczynski and the Earth Liberationists acted with a specific political goal in mind, the Minneapolis rioters were just pissed off and wanted to fuck shit up—which is, in my opinion, perfectly reasonable. To quote Ulysse Malcoeur: “The insurrectionary is the one who wishes for nothing at all, except to assert their dignity—not the Eternal Dignity of the Human Being, but the dignity of the one who simply will not tolerate this any longer… Civilized one, you may find this hard to accept, but nothing is being said and no one is being addressed. You think this is a desperate measure that the insurrectionary performs so that they might have you as an audience. You flatter yourself too much.”Ulysse Malcoeur, Coldness and Cruelty in the Time of Insurrection, Chapter 1.<https://metaspinoza.wordpress.com/2020/07/13/coldness-and-cruelty-chapter-one/>

13

This is how it all begins. As a simple assertion of dignity, the assertion of freedom by the one who is oppressed. The insurrection of the Primal Ones who can no longer tolerate being confined within their cages, whose only wish is to break free and wreak havoc on the world that has abused them, to set fire to the symbols of tyranny, to destroy while laughing, to take what they want, whether it belongs to them or not. This is the beginning of the conquest of queerness. And God help anyone who stands in its way.

Queerness in Revolt

14

When Primal Femininity begins its conquest to expand queer territory, it does so in no ones name but its own. It does so for no cause but its own. It pays no heed to the cries of the moralists. Rather than listening to them, it takes the opportunity to draw its blade and slice out their tongues.

When Primal Femininity mobilizes, it leaves a trail of chaos and destruction in its wake. Whether or not its revolt will lead to a better world is irrelevant. All that matters is that the current world is intolerable and must be destroyed. All else is secondary. Camus, describing surrealism, says that “the instinctive joy of being alive, the stimulus of the unconscious, the cry of the irrational, are the only pure truths that must be professed. Everything that stands in the way of desire—principally society—must therefore be mercilessly destroyed.”

Queer revolt does not hold out any hopes for a bright and shining utopia where all are free and equal. “One of the fundamental theses of surrealism is, in fact, that there is no salvation,” Camus writes. Queer revolt, as already stated, does not seek to establish a new world order, but merely to destroy the current one, and ensure that such an order never arises again.

15

The Queer Revolution is a revolution against the suffocating norms of conservative social life, those norms that chain pleasure, cage desire and punish joy. It is a revolution that utilizes the force of pure political terror in order to stamp out all traces of reactionary sentiment. Law, universal morals, patriarchal hierarchy, all these are ruthlessly crushed by the Queer Revolution. In other words, the Queer Revolution is a revolution which aims to overthrow the decadence of the current order. What is decadence? Nietzsche writes; “I understand corruption in the sense of decadence. What I maintain is this, that all the values upon which mankind builds its highest hopes and desires are decadent values. I call an animal, an individual, a species corrupt, when it loses its instincts, when it selects and prefers that which is detrimental to it.”Friedrich Nietzsche, Twilight of the Idols/The Anti-Christ, tr. R. J. Hollingdale (Penguin Books, 1986), p 117, §6.

Because what is Queer is what lies outside, what is hidden, the Queer Revolution will seemingly come out of nowhere, and the Queer Revolutionaries appear as “a conqueror and master race which, organized for war and with the ability to organize, unhesitatingly lays its terrible claws upon a populace perhaps tremendously superior in numbers but still formless and nomad.”Friedrich Nietzsche, Basic Writings, tr. Walter Kaufmann (Random House, 2000), p 522, ‘Genealogy of Morals’ §17.

But contrary to Nietzsche’s warlike conquerors, who for him are the origin of the State, the queer revolutionaries come not to found a state, but crush it. And because the State was formed not by contract, but by force, it must be abolished by force. “He who can command, he who is by nature “master,” he who is violent in act and bearing—what has he to do with contracts! One does not reckon with such natures; they come like fate, without reason, consideration, or pretext; they appear as lightning appears, too terrible, too sudden, too convincing, too “different” even to be hated.”

This sudden surge of force and will, this assertion of power over the world: this is the revolution. It seemingly comes out of nowhere, but in reality it was always there, lurking, waiting for its time. It strikes like fate. It is fate. And for this reason it does not judge. It does not come to reward the righteous and punish the wicked. It comes, and does what it does, and that is that. It comes to rise above the old laws, and eventually shatter them.

16

The Queer Revolutionary arrives from the future to break the old laws and conquer the territory that is controlled by the current order. He comes down from the mountain, bearing a stone tablet, and upon that tablet is written the one and only law that will reign henceforth; take what you will, and keep what you can. “Love is the law, love under will.” All other laws are heresy, and to follow them is to be sentenced to death. 

Thus the Old Aeon ends, and the New Aeon begins.

Queer Futures

17

The day after the battle, nothing could be heard in the city but a deaf and echoing silence that rolled through the narrow streets, once filled with cars and pedestrians, now empty save for smoking rubble and scattered debris. Slowly, a group of men, women and children, ragged and dirty, emerged from out of a ruined building and began searching for other survivors.

They wandered the dead and empty streets, desperately searching. But they found no one. They were about to give up and return into hiding, when a boy came running; he had found someone.

A lone man, wandering the streets, shuffling silently with his left foot dragging behind him. 

“Who are you?” a man from the group asked.

“I am he who seeks,” the strange figure replied.

“Seeks what?”

He looked up at them, and they were able to get a clear look at his face; his eyes were brown, and his skin was the color of deep bronze.

“I am he who seeks God. Have you seen God?”

Confused, the man looked back at his group and shook his head.

“Then we must go. God does not dwell here.”

And with that, the strange man turned, and began to walk down the road and out of the city. Slowly, one by one, they began to follow him. They passed crumbled churches and derelict skyscrapers, burned out stores and charred corpses. 

At last, they came upon the outskirts of the city, and the man turned to them, and they looked upon him. The man began to turn, but one among them spoke up.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking us?”

He looked upon him, and spoke, and his words broke the silence like a gunshot in the night.

“The Promised Land.”


Nikoli O’Dwyer is a writer that specializes in philosophy, radical politics and occultism of all kinds.

Categories
Futures

After Lucretius

A Naive Program

If the system breaks down the consequences will still be very painful. But the bigger the system grows the more disastrous the results of its breakdown will be, so if it is to break down it had best break down sooner rather than later.

Ted Kaczynski

The banality of Einstein’s remarks in matters outside his specialty is as astonishing as his genius within it. It seems as though the specialized application of all one’s faculties in a particular area inhibits the consideration of things in general.

Jacques Ellul

Despite being a mathematics prodigy with an IQ of 165, the Ted Kaczynski of Industrial Society and its Future is breathtakingly naïve. To take just one example before we grind our main axe, here is Kaczynski on how the anti-tech “revolutionaries” should approach political power: “The revolutionaries should not try to acquire political power until the system has gotten itself into such a mess that any hardships will be seen as resulting from the failures of the industrial system itself and not from the policies of the revolutionaries.” Otherwise, he tells us, they risk being voted out!

The Unabomber has tunnel vision. There is so much focus on the gruesomeness of the future of industrial society that Kaczynski never stops to wonder exactly how much future civilisation has left. There are two futures present in the Manifesto,This is how Kaczynski likes to refer to Industrial Society and its Future, e.g. ‘Letter to an Anonymous German’ on the Anarchist Library: “As the Manifesto argues . . .”; “I should add that the remarks about leftism, here and in the Manifesto . . .” one in which the system’s precipitous growth threatens a terrible collapse if it falls, and one in which the system is made stable through the success of cybernetics. Kaczynski’s fear concerns the latter “possibility”, though we must ask whether or not it ever occurred to him to consider external causes of civilisational collapse. There is a vulgar and uncanny Marxism present in the Manifesto, where non-human nature is completely ignored as an object of serious analysis. Instead, Kaczynski focuses on what anti-tech revolutionaries may need to do in order to bring the system down. His recommendations, all laughable, include:

  1. Promote social stress and instability in industrial society to make a revolution against technology possible. Sow division between the power-holding elite and everybody else. Revolutionaries ought not to condemn the public for their consumption habit, but rather explain to them that they are victims of the advertising industry. Avoid identity politics at all costs.
  2. Avoid assuming political power. Any green party would see itself quickly removed from office for crashing the economy. Political power can be seized only when the public understands that the industrial system’s continued existence is worse than the alternative.
  3. Revolt worldwide and simultaneously, defeating the entire industrial system in one stroke. Trying to cut back on a nation-by-nation basis can only lead to nationalist hysteria as the public loses its nerve: “Holy robots! The world will fly off its orbit if the Japanese ever sell more cars than we do!”
  4. Support measures which bind the world economy into a unified whole. Global economic integration makes the industrial system easier to destabilise—a breakdown in one major nation will cause all industrialised nations to break down.

To be clear, this program is so ill-conceived it doesn’t really need to be critiqued, and I reference it only to demonstrate the truth of Ellul’s assertion that a mathematical genius need not have any particular wisdom in politics. It is obvious that a vanishingly small band of social outcasts and cranks are not going to be able to topple even one nation before the industrial system drives the human race to extinction. Capital is more than capable of recuperating itself, such that even if a systemic collapse occurred, we can reasonably assert it wouldn’t be long before the machines were up and running again. And what is all this nonsense about simultaneous worldwide anti-tech revolution? The communists couldn’t pull it off despite having a world-historic superpower on their side and a utopian vision of the future. What are the anti-tech revolutionaries offering? ‘Well, you’ll die. But at least you won’t be on anti-depressants.’

What Kaczynski didn’t realise is that by the time the system is truly struggling to the extent that it is unable to defend itself, famines, droughts, extreme weather, sea level rise and ecological collapse will have already foreclosed any possibility of a liberated future for the small number of people who may be able to struggle on as runaway warming takes over from industrial activity and pushes the Earth system into an unliveable hothouse state. Kaczynskian eschatology, just like its socialist equivalent, is religious—it consists in crossing one’s fingers and hoping for the best, when anyone serious knows to only ever expect the worst.

The Leviathan and the Herd

‘Well, it’s no good screaming now. We’ve already sawn the cap off.’

The scalp dropped into the metal bin with a muted thud. The procedure lasted about five minutes. By the time the inside of the skull had been vacuumed and scrubbed clean, the rest of the cadaver had already been shipped to the putrefactorium for processing.

The workers used to tell morbid jokes as they watched the bodies liquefy in the putrechamber. That was before they were all subjected to genomic lobotomy. CRISPR tech. Delivered by injection one morning at clock-in. It was easy enough for the technicians to design the RNA sequences. In the old days, the managers would have at least needed a pretext to placate the public with, but the class struggle was permanently settled a while ago thanks to gene drives for docility and obedience. Consequently, there is no longer any need for PR.

A good thing too. It just held things up.

In some industries, workers are modified to remove their mortality salience. This is necessary for jobs like mining and construction, where resources have long since become too scarce to be wasted on luxuries like safety equipment and healthcare. You order a few hundred workers with the appropriate base specifications and make the necessary edits on-site. In other industries, mortality salience remains useful, either as a weapon of fear or simple amusement for the overseers. It sounds ridiculously, eye-rollingly sci-fi to imagine torture-as-entertainment, until you remember the lurid glee with which thousands watched ISIS militants torture and murder Jordanian pilot Muath Safi Yousef al-Kasasbeh by placing him inside a cage, dousing him with gasoline, and setting him on fire. There isn’t a whole lot to do during industrial society’s final act but produce the essentials and enjoy the torture. Hence the scalps in buckets, the putrefactorium, and the babbling, neutralised workers, who are good only for repetitive tasks and screaming as they die. Highest bidder gets to take the skull home.

Beats a walk in the desert.


Friedrich Nietzsche thought humankind could go down two routes: either it could become the bridge to the Übermensch, or succumb to its worst—its most human—impulses and drift through the end of history as the Last Man. At our current juncture, it’s pretty clear what path was taken. To say this path was chosen, however, is to make the bourgeois error, to assign agency where there is none, to invoke the obscene notion of the freedom of the will, first principle of the hangman’s metaphysics. Good Spinozists that we are, we understand that there is no room in this world for guilt, evil, wrongdoing, or error—only the chain of necessity of perfect nature.

Still, what a thing it is to be a herd animal. And there really is no question here that you and I both are herd animals. Even the toughest survivalist exists by tacit permission of the state, and would be quickly shot or jailed if they seriously tried to defend their “property” from the sovereign authority. If you think that anything can shield you from the universal becoming-bovine of the 21st century, you are coping. Petty politics is an open invitation to imagine yourself better than others because you happen to have nobler reasons than they do for supporting your ill-thought out policy prescriptions. Great politics is the future’s cynical antidote, a closed invitation for your owners to let you perish—and it is really no good bringing up your rights here, civilised one. As ecological collapse and political dementia bring the system as we know it to a screeching halt, despotic metastasis turns the lights back on, but not before jettisoning the decaying fragments of the liberal-democratic order once and for all—“The time for petty politics is over.”Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, tr. J. Norman (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), p. 102; §208.

With that, we enter the age of the Neoleviathans. While we cannot predict what these states will do, being, by their very nature, completely novel, we might be able to get an idea by looking at one of their predecessors, which I call Anteleviathans.

ISIS: A Case Study

Taking advantage of the weakness of Iraq and Syria’s governments, ISIS rapidly became a world-renowned and formidable force, at one point claiming 8 million subjects, with thousands of foreign fighters recruited from across the world with the help of slick propaganda videos—essentially snuff porn with high production values, which the Western media was more than happy to share as long as it brought in the ad revenue. ISIS unleashed genocide against Yazidis, Shia Muslims, and Christians; assassinated political enemies and executed POWs; took control of dams and displaced communities through deliberate flooding and drought;Tobias von Lossow, ‘Water as Weapon: IS on the Euphrates and Tigris’ (2016). “In April 2014, after IS had the Falluja Dam floodgates closed, the retained water flooded large areas upstream and submerged Iraqi government facilities on the banks . . . Between Falluja and Abu Ghraib over 10,000 houses and around 200 square kilometres of fertile farmland were destroyed; almost the entire harvest was wiped out; and livestock was killed. Up to 60,000 locals who had lost their livelihood in the flood were displaced.” inspired numerous terror attacks abroad; and established a widespread, violent fundamentalist state with captured military technology. For a group most people hadn’t heard of before the summer of 2014, and which had lost 98% of its territory by late 2017, this is an impressive and horrific record, one we can nonetheless expect to be outdone by the Neoleviathans of the future without even breaking a sweat.

See, a Neoleviathan has no qualms about making do with whatever falls into its lap. Its soldiers and commanders aren’t scared of international courts or a bad reputation—they know they’d sooner die than face what the enemy calls “justice”. They don’t hesitate or worry, and they know beggars can’t be choosers. Unimpeded by the institutional gangrene that plagues democratic states, that is, unimpeded by a lazy, entrenched, ill-incentivised political class and the capitalists who own them, Neoleviathans and their Anteleviathan counterparts are capable of the sort of vigour and creativity only a starving proto-state or a sovereign territory on the edge of survival can muster up.In truth, the distinction between a Neoleviathan and an Anteleviathan is really nothing more than context. Neoleviathans exist amongst Neoleviathans. When everyone treats each other as if they are Neoleviathans, the process is complete. Until then, for as long as the majority play pretend, there are only good, decent, legitimate states, and the Anteleviathan rogues. This will be elaborated on in a future instalment of my monograph on the subject. There was an unmistakable sense of bloat watching European government leaders wonder how to stop ISIS propaganda falling into the hands of their citizens while ISIS crowdsourced execution methods on Twitter. In the end, foreign powers were able to bomb ISIS back into oblivion, but one has to wonder, as the lights start to go out on globally-integrated, internationalist civilisation, what happens when the power vacuums open back up, and nobody from the outside gives a shit? What happens when all that are left are power vacuums—and the Neoleviathans that seek to fill them?

Irreligious Pessimism

Before they started doing it to everyone, they began by re-cognitising the undesirables, which is what they called the genomic lobotomy back then. The public loved the idea, which was sold to them by the obsequious pro-Neoleviathan cognoscenti. These people had gotten a hold of some book, called Neoleviathan: Political Blueprints for the Post Collapseand were utterly convinced its predictions, painted in broad enough strokes to be almost truisms, would come to pass. ‘We really ought to get ahead of the curve on this one!’ its convinced readers would say. ‘We don’t want the other side beating us to it!’ The Neoleviathan integrates the arms race of the Schmittian political and the cutting-edge of technology to ensure stability by any means necessary, and so the opposition was promptly re-cognitised and put to work on fracking sites, farms, oil rigs—just about anything the respectable majority had no interest in doing. Resources were less scarce back then, there was still enough water for everybody and the grasses hadn’t gone extinct yet. Really what the opportunists were pursuing was only the process of leviathanisation. The Neoleviathans hadn’t truly arrived until even its supporters were being sent down the mines or having their heads split open for the few moments of amusement it would bring to the ever-dwindling ruling class.

There used to be more Neoleviathans. In the beginning, that is, after the end of the old system, there was an incredible scramble for territory, setting innumerable wars and petty skirmishes in motion. This blood-soaked economy of conflict produced much political diversity, though the willingness to use all sorts of chemical and biological weapons, to target and exterminate entire civilian populations, poison water and food supplies, assassinate military and political leaders, and all sorts of previously-frowned upon behaviours quickly selected the weaker Neoleviathans out of existence, as well as the most reckless. Now, a select few exist in a tired stalemate as their outer limits shrink. Deserts claim much of the once fertile land, and nobody is all that bothered about fighting any longer. Most of the time everyone keeps to themselves, and even the fights which do occur are perfunctory, disinterested—nobody bats an eye at another ten thousand dead.

In the night, there’s this eerie silence. There are no vehicles out, of course. The roads have long since fallen into disrepair. But there are no birds, no bats, no animals of any kind—few living people even know there was once something other than cracked soil as far as the eye can see. Everything is grown in repurposed shipping containers with salvaged LEDs. The air is sterile. The sky is brown. “In this way the ramparts of the great world also will be breached and collapse in crumbling ruin about us. Already it is far past its prime. The earth, which generated every living species and once brought forth from its womb the bodies of huge beasts, has now scarcely strength to generate animalcules . . . Already the ploughman of ripe years shakes his head with many a sigh that his heavy labours have gone for nothing; and, when he compares the present with the past, he often cries up his father’s luck and grumbles that past generations, when men were old-fashioned and god-fearing, supported life easily enough on their small farms, though one man’s holding was then far less than now. In the same despondent vein, the cultivator of old and wilted vines decries the trend of the times and rails at heaven. He does not realize that everything is gradually decaying and nearing its end, worn out by old age.”Lucretius, On the Nature of the Universe (Harmondsworth, UK: Penguin Books Limited, 1951), pp. 94–95.


What comes after Lucretius? After one realises it really isn’t over until it’s over, and that, with humanity, nature has perfected its inner tendency towards self-destruction? It is, of course, ridiculous to imagine that anthropogenic climate change will be reversed—before the age of the Neoleviathans, there will not exist a state concerned enough for the future to try and do it, and after the age of the Neoleviathans has begun, any state which diverts resources to such an endeavour will quickly find itself smashed to pieces. Everybody knows there will not be a worldwide simultaneous revolution as Kaczynski correctly recognised would be necessary for the system (capital, industrial society, whatever you’d like to call it) to be toppled. If you are honest with yourself, you know that we won’t clean the oceans of plastic, suck all of the greenhouse gases back out of the atmosphere (and keep them out), decarbonise our economies or otherwise do anything other than business-as-usual. The future looks like a slow winding down, followed by a spectacular period characterised by strange combinations of atavism and modernity, followed by a gradual ebbing, then a rapid crumbling, away. And that’s if we’re lucky.

After Lucretius comes Darwin: the belief that things can always get worse in the absence of a hard limit. The question is not one of revolution, then, but of escape—whether spatially or mentally—of producing a world within the world, of becoming disillusioned but not despondent. Foucault: “Do not think that one has to be sad in order to be militant, even though the thing one is fighting is abominable.”Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Anti-Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000), p. xiii. And yet, is there really anything to look forward to? Has everything not been burned down to the substrate? No morality and no meaning, no exit and no hope, only the rushing wind of the outside as progress generates extinction? Why bother? What should we do? “The highest values devalue themselves . . .”Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power: Selections from the Notebooks of the 1880s, tr. R. Kevin Hill and Michael A. Scarpitti (London: Penguin Classics, 2017), p. 15; §1. Was this really it? Did you really slog through all that Proudhon just to die for some rich man’s greed? Am I telling you that you shouldn’t have bothered handing out those papers at the student union? And what about the long history of the revolutionary movement? Was it all for nothing? Why are you even here? The crisis of meaning: the great zero, death itself.

Abandoning the Rubicon

Contact with the outside: I am standing amongst the beautiful graves of the Necropolis, taking advantage of the first dry spell we’ve had in days. Along the grassy bank of the exit path stand a queue of elm trees, their skeletal branches gnarled and twisted in petrified supplication, like leprotic beggars, hands around the alms bowl of the autumn sky.

I’m here to visit the departed in their great grand tombs, interned forever by the grace of God. William and his whole family buried together from the looks of it: Christina, Robert—two young kids—Connell, his wife, and Margaret, born 16 days before Connell’s death—dead less than a year later. Mary made it to 21 before she died. Certrude lasted 10 days. Must have remarried.

I can’t look anymore.

It’s hard not to be struck by the ostentatiousness of bourgeois death, the one-upmanship of the grave. Imagine them in their heaven, sucking pipes: ‘My family got me a lovely grave, you know. It’s a good 20 feet tall. Pierces the sky like a javelin. Of course, no expenses were too much. I noticed yours was a little petite—must have been a lean business year for your family, eh? Eh, old boy?’

‘My God,’ some must have said as they saw that light at the end of the tunnel. ‘I am coming home. So what of all this? I am free at last.’

The old cathedral bells chime as I go. A paper windmill spins in the wind. Crisp leaves, burnt brown, trip towards the bridge. Fresh weeds, green and vivacious, shoot up by the memorial benches. Saccade. “Lest we forget.” Saccade. Lest I do. The sunlight blooms diffuse, another beautiful domed church almost seems to swell in joy, like your sunlight-kissed skin on that beach that summer. We were at the edge of the world then, tumbling through space but calm, so calm, by those sweet and sparkling waves. And you, stranger whose name I barely had the chance to learn, on that bench with the world roaring by, how long did we kiss? Four seconds? I swear the world stopped tumbling for that, my body thrown and broken as the Earth hit the brakes. I should wonder if that’s how beautiful death can be—defenestrated out of this world.

So then! A lot of shit I give about your crisis of meaning! Ask the dead if meaning saved them! You think you love life because it has meaning? How dull, how sick, how sad. Tell me: did you ever have a moment where the world stopped tumbling? Did you dare ask at that moment what it meant?


We should never have set up some transcendent goal or all-consummating utopian ideal for ourselves. To do so is to become a slave to a fixed idea, to invite vitrifying passions into our wheelhouse, to lay the foundations for the nihilism of disillusionment. We have had enough of the cop, the moralist, and the dreamer in our heads. “Thou shalt not, thou shalt, thou art.” After all this time, why are you still seeking after commandments?

The only way out is out: strategically calculated withdrawal or running headlong, screaming, into the desert—it doesn’t matter. To stay is to die, for the state will not go quietly. Unbound from the injunction to build the new world, we can perhaps imagine a true existentialism, a true reckoning with what we are: temporary assemblages of organs, machines running strange software, backseat spirits tethered to base matter, undulating modes of God or Nature. To recognise what we are is to lose all fear. Socrates laughed at his penalty—as if death was a penalty, he said, something he could have avoided by playing nice. It comes to us all. What does it matter when? And why? If it matters at all it is because it matters to you, in all your anguish and all your joy, in your desire, for you love life, not meaning! You love the body and its sensations! Disillusionment need not lead to catatonic withdrawal and lifeless miserabilism. You still love, don’t you? Then love! But save yourself the pain of believing in fairy tales, and don’t bother us about the revolution either. We are packing our bags.

Defeatist? Perhaps. But all the time we are running, we’ll be searching for our guns!


Ulysse Malcoeur is a writer interested in philosophical pessimism, the ecological crisis, and the intersection of both. He runs a podcast and posts essays on his Substack, as well as a few other things, including editing this journal. You’ll find him on Twitter here.