Mendo Chistka

"Arrest! Need it be said that it is a breaking point in your life, a bolt of lightning which has scored a direct hit on you? That it is an unassimilable spiritual earthquake not every person can cope with, as a result of which people often slip into insanity?"
(Alexander Solzhenitsyn, Gulag Archipelago Vol. I. p.3.)

Heads up! Satanville homies! If you pull together, and, practice omerta, you might side-step the in-coming bad weather, or, at least, mitigate its worst effects. It’s probably too late to do anything about phone traffic patterns. The first wave of people indicted, have to hang tight, no one can roll. If they hold their mud, the feds won't get the necessary corroborating evidence to continue their purge. It will be rough on those who get caught up. They will need community support, both encouragement not to cave, and, financial assistance.
When, and, if, the "G" is blocked, the feds will get mean, and, put the wood to whoever won't roll. Phone taps and pen registers, alone, can't sustain their cases. It's crucial for them to flip enough people to keep their prosecutorial machine grinding along. Soon, their inquisitive attention will illuminate Satanville's true character in the same manner that light defines the shape of an object. If everyone thinks only of themselves, of doing time and/or losing their stuff, the game will be lost before it’s begun. Those that steadfastly hold up under pressure, risk losing everything,... except their souls.
Satanville is the reification of a collective consciousness. It is thought made real, aggregate mental energies instantiating a flesh and blood community based on the idealism of the late sixties, and, sustained by anarcho-capitalist illegalism. Over the last couple of years, there has been an absurd rush to "become white," “get legal,” and metamorphose into peti- bourgeois country squires, this has led directly to the current legal malaise. There is no getting legal. Satanville exists beyond the law. Anarchistic outlawry is the public expression of its raison detre. Illegalism is the communal confession. All notions to the contrary, are self-deceiving. It is a genuinely anti-structural environment.
Anti-structure precedes all form. It is the creative cusp between now and next from which all ideas emanate. It’s the peak of an acid trip, the stage at which everything becomes possible, rendering all codes of conduct plastic as play-do. Anti-structural environments are inherently unstable; absence of structure begs structure. Minds form these future structures from re-combined bits and pieces of past experience, hence, the unfortunate palimpsestic re-assertion of the bourgeois attitude, representing, ironically, the very ideology the old-time new-comers were seeking to escape.
Satanville isn’t just a physical location; it’s a state of mind. But, can it last? Can anywhere, or, anyone, bear the weight of such bedizened dreamings? Perhaps, the vision has proved too unpredictable, too frightening, too heavy, for earnest hippie kulaks yearning the lost comfort of their chains.“Honest, Mister Man from Uncle, it was all just a shimmering mirage….“
Great Preston’s ghost! Gang! All for one, and, one for all. Hang together, or, hang alone.
Pugachev
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