We have come to terms with the extent of the damage done to our individual lives, our planet, what could laughably be called the remains of some *community* (now a politicians' poisoned term - we see nothing reflective of what community means to us in this society) by the ravaging of capitalism, the State, social hierarchies of race and gender and our own seeming inability to confront and systematically destroy these entites as they suffocate us. This realisation can too often lead to paralysis or chasing one's own tails in a frenzy of self-righteous *activism* that leaves participants exhausted, the quality of their struggle cheapened, and our enemies unfazed. We have assessed the terrain in which we find ourselves and pledged a trajectory of wild rage despite the spell of tranquility that society attempts to cast, living passion and experimentation despite the inertia and obsession with dead objects this society fetishizes, and real affinity despite the empty shell of social networks and meaningless interaction we are sold as leisure or *community*. Many tools are ours in this lived resistance - but none of these find any context when not held up against a relentless and determined assault on the open prison that unfolds everywhere our enemies tread.