One Helluva of a Week

This week has been weird. The situation seems hopeless. The Reactionary Internationale is moving fast to cage our bodies and tweak our machines. The world is screaming .

Where & how do we start?

I don't know

What I know is that I keep on encountering pockets of dialogue and alternative practices, online and through the city.

Lichtenraderstr 49, a usual refuge, once again materialized spaces of agency for us to surf through the storm. “One publish to find comrades”, said Henri Breton around 100 years ago, as fascism took over the world for the first time. Maybe Breton had less questions about the means of publishing than what we have right now. Certainly, he didn't have to deal with platforms. Lucky him.

Sometimes, I feel we are all circling around with the same set of unaswerable questions. Repetita iuvant, they said in Latin. It is helpful to repeat. I hope so because I struggle to

But to unravel the politics and the possibilities of publishing platforms is to put into focus the fight for the century. Who own the networks we use to communicate? How does one crave zones for autonomous, creative communication?