This is an excerpt from an absolutely free anarchist primer newspaper from Crimethic.com ----  Read the whole newspaper, excellent education on anarchy and breaking out of the box.  This was written long long before the Murdoch Pie Throwing.  Enjoy!

We communicated with each
other through initials carved into
boarding school desks, designs
spray-painted through stencils
onto alley walls, holes kicked
in corporate windows televised
on the five o’clock news, letters
posted with counterfeit stamps or
carried across oceans in friends’
packs, secret instructions coded
into anonymous emails, clandestine
meetings in coffee shops,
love poetry carved into the planks
of prison bunks.

We sheltered illegal immigrants,
political refugees, fugitives from
justice, and adolescent runaways
in our modest homes and beds,
as they too sheltered us.

We improvised recipes to bake
each other cookies, cakes, breakfasts
in bed, weekly free meals in
the park, great feasts celebrating
our courage and kinship so we
might taste their sweetness on
our very tongues.

We entrusted each other with our
hearts and appetites, together
composing symphonies of caresses
and pleasure, making love
a verb in a language of exaltation.

We wreaked havoc upon their gender
norms and ethnic stereotypes
and cultural expectations, showing
with our bodies and our relationships
and our desires just how
arbitrary their laws of nature were.

We wrote our own music and performed
it for each other, so when
we hummed to ourselves we
could celebrate our companions’
creativity rather than repeat the
radio’s dull drone.

In borrowed attic rooms, we
tended ailing foreign lovers and
struggled to write the lines that
could ignite the fires dormant in
the multitudes around us.
In the last moment before dawn,
flashlights tight in our shaking
hands, we dismantled power boxes
on the houses of fascists who were
to host rallies the following day.

We fought those fascists tooth,
nail, and knife in the streets, when
no one else would even confront
them in print.

We planted gardens in the abandoned
lots of ghettos, hitchhiked
across continents in record time,
tossed pies in the faces of kings
and bankers.

We played saxophones together
in the darkness of echoing caves
in West Virginia.

In Paris, armed with cobblestones
and parasols, we held the gendarmes
at bay for nights on end,
until we could almost taste the new
world coming through the tear gas.

We fought our way through their
lines to the opera house and took
it over, and held discussions there
twenty-four hours a day as to what
that world could be.

In Chicago, we created an underground
network to provide illegal
abortions in safe conditions and
a supportive atmosphere, when
the religious fanatics would have
preferred us to die in shame and
tears down dark alleys.

In New York we held hands and
massaged each other’s shoulders as
our enemies closed in to arrest us.

In Quebec we tore up the highway
and pounded out primordial
rhythms on the traffic signs with
the fragments, and the sound was
vaster and more beautiful than any
song ever played in a concert hall.

In Santiago, we robbed banks to
fund papers of transgressive poetry.

In Siberia, we plotted impossible
escapes—and carried them out,
circumnavigating the globe with
forged papers and borrowed money
to return to the arms of our friends.

In Montevideo, in the squatted
township, we built huts from plywood
and plastic sheeting, pirated
electricity from nearby power lines,
and conferred with our neighbors
as to how we could contribute to
our new community.

In San Diego, when they jailed us for
speaking our minds, we invited our
friends and filled their prisons until
they had to change their policy.

In Oregon, we climbed trees, and
lived in them for months to protect
the forests we had hiked and
camped in as children.

In Mexico, when we met hopping
freight trains, we traded stories
about working with the Zapatistas
in Chiapas, about floods witnessed
from boxcars passing
through Texas, about our grandparents
who fought in the Mexican
revolution.

read more