The ne plus ultra of social oppression is being shot at in cold blood.
All the stones, torn from the pavement and thrown at the shields of
cops or at the façades of commercial temples, all the flaming bottles
that traced their orbits in the night sky, all the barricades erected
on city streets, dividing our areas from theirs, all the bins of
consumer trash which, thanks to the fire of revolt, came to be
Something out of Nothing, all the fists raised under the moon, are the
arms giving flesh, as well as true power, not only to resistance but
also to freedom. And it is precisely the feeling of freedom that, in
those moments, remains the sole thing worth betting on: that feeling
of forgotten childhood mornings, when everything may happen, for it is
ourselves, as creative humans, who have awoken _ not those future
productive human machines known as "obedient subject," "student,"
"alienated worker," "owner," "family wo/man." The feeling of facing
the enemies of freedom _ of no longer fearing them.

It is thus for good reason that those who wish to get on with their
business as if nothing happens, as if nothing has ever happened, are
worried. The phantom of liberty always comes with the knife between
the teeth, with the violent will to break the chains, all those chains
that turn life into a miserable repetition, serving to reproduce the
dominant social relations. Yet from Saturday, December 6, the cities
of this country are not functioning properly: no shopping therapy, no
open roads leading us to work, no news on the government's forthcoming
recovery initiatives, no carefree switching from one lifestyle TV show
to another, no evening drives around Syntagma Sq. etc., etc., etc.
These days and nights do not belong to merchants, TV commentators,
ministers and cops: These days and nights belong to Alexis!

As surrealists we were on the streets from the start, along with
thousands of others, in revolt and solidarity; for surrealism was born
with the breath of the street, and does not intend to ever abandon it.
After the mass resistance before the State murderers, the breath of
the street has become even warmer, even more hospitable and creative
than before. It is not in our competence to propose a general line to
this movement. Yet we do assume our responsibility in the common
struggle, as it is a struggle for freedom. Without having to agree
with all aspects of such a mass phenomenon, without being partisans of
blind hatred and of violence for its own sake, we accept that this
phenomenon exists for a reason.

Let's not allow this flaming breath of poetry to loosen or die out.
Let's turn it into a concrete utopia: to transform the world and to
transform life!

No peace with cops and their masters!

All in the streets!

Those who cannot feel the rage may as well shut their traps!

Athens Surrealist Group, December 2008
 surrealismgr@gmail.com