18 aug. 2018

from August the first




Ku pamięci Armia Krajowa...

I would like to announce a commemoration; it is up to you, reader, whether to care or to not care. I do this not on behalf of every member of The End Commune, but I do this only on the behalf of my own sincere passions. At 17:00 on this date, the first of August, something of great personal as well as historical significance took place a long time ago, and at precisely 17:00 I will, but for a moment, submerge in silent respect for it. On August 1, 1944, the Warsaw Uprising commenced, and I think it is in a proper moral spirit for me to salute it. I salute not only the heroes of it, I wish not to paint this desperate battle for survival in any apologetic, exoticising or glorifying manner; for it was a morbid and diabolical struggle, and it was ruthless, brutal, cold and abysmal in ways neither I nor any of you who will read can understand. What happened in Poland (but absolutely not exclusively in Poland) during those cursed years in general, and during those 63 days of rebellion in particular, is literally beyond our comprehension. Suffering must be truly felt in order to be truly understood, and I claim no insight in the trepidations and torments of the combatants and of the civilian victims of this almost apocalyptic terror. This fight for integrity; autonomy; self-worth, fueled by the bitterest fires of anti-Nazi and anti-Soviet resentment was a doomed fight, yet it was fought. And I think there is a lot in that fact to be analysed, ruminated over, integrated into the self. They fought out of self-respect surely, but, ultimately, the fight was about sheer corporeal and spiritual survival, for the Nazis exterminated you otherwise. Therefore, I wish not to paint my homage with a brush of shallow and lazily appropriating glorification of some past event, but I pay my dues to the ones who waded through the excremental sewers; I pay my dues to the girls and boys losing their mothers to traumatic rape and execution, and I pay my dues to the young men storming the enemy with not even a rifle in their courageous but trembling hands! To me, anyways, a summit of resistance, of retaliation and of heroic humanity is, for example, to mockingly spit in the face of Nazi and Soviet tyranny and brutalizing repression, as they did, the A. K. and their affiliated combatant organizations. And forevermore, this spirit has carved into my heart a nest, and it is doubtful if it ever will leave this abode within me. Yes, I pay my dues to the extravagant ugliness of this brutal happening and I do not wish to romanticize the grotesque terror of it (I shall refrain from digging too much into grisly and destitute detail; much has been written about these things and it is of utmost importance to ruminate them, but it is not my mission today), but not only that. To me, it is a paragon of rebellion, the Warsaw Uprising, and in essence and in spirit, I claim that but a miniscule fraction of the essence which became foundational to this uprising is present also in the work that we do, me and my beautiful and beloved friends, and that it is also foundational in some abstract sense to the philosophical-existential foundations of the Endcommunean world as a whole.


So let me revere this day as in remembrance, a holy and absolutely significant remembrance. I honour today the memory of the Warsaw Uprising and in utmost opposition to the pathetic tyrants of authoritarianism. And also, while we are at it, FUCK Armia Ludowa (I do not care at all for Soviet proxies, no matter how "Polish" they were in their ranks), FUCK Stalin (for being one of the shittiest assholes to ever live), FUCK the Soviet Union (for being the failed, pathological, self-deceptive, false and bloodletted vision of ridiculous utopia that it was), FUCK Oskar Dirlewanger (for being positively the worst of almost all Nazis; if I could, I would torture him with delight), FUCKthe Western betrayal (you could have done more, do not lie), and FUCK all the Stalin-apologetic maggots still squirming in the gutters of our contemporary society. You have no fucking idea about what you are playing with.

Ku pamięci Akcja "Burza"
Ku pamięci Żydowska Organizacja Bojowa
Ku pamięci Rzeź Woli
I wszystkie inne.


Let me close with one of the most poignant pieces of poetry I ever read, from my sacred love and the most beautiful Anna Świrszczyńska;

"Choć nikt nas nie zmuszał,
zbudowaliśmy barykadę
pod ostrzałem."
 
cataclysmic astroquakes change the course of whole worlds;

upsurges of dark energy clip the strings of all fucking theories

and the hand of God redraw the aesthetics of our beloved constellations;

planets die off with the snapping of fingers
and the space around us expands ― indifferently; 
 
galaxies wither like old vase flowers
and the stars collapse into a swallet where even light drowns;

majestically incomprehensible in grandeur, all this is.