It was an international convergence, an Israeli-American peace summit, it was three boys in a room talking truth and politics, it was coffee and youth and brilliance and hunger. Of course that is why I liked the way Frederico said “FUCK” with a Latin-Jewish accent, “FUCKED UP,” he said and “FUCK THAT,” and “It’s no fucking question
Perhaps it is because his father, a member of an Argentinean guerilla organization*, was killed by the government’s army that Frederico understands how politics really should be discussed: with words that come from the gut, the asshole, the genitals, words loaded with desire and disgust and shock value. That’s the kind of business politics is: a fucking shit business.
As a friend once told me, “All wars are wars of acquisition.” Ain’t that the fucking truth, the simple primal secret disguised now in grey pinstripe suits woven from money and broken promises, camouflaged in army fatigues and decorated with gold stars and iron crosses, disguised in the rhetorical webs of academic historical bullshit routines. This is a fact everyone should know like they know the smell of their own armpits: wars, colonizations, and occupations are about fucking people over and stealing their shit.
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*Rodrigo Vasquez, who is from
* * *Notes from e-mail dialogue with a friend:
Will: “What do you think about nonviolent direct action, it’s potential and uses?”
A: “The nonviolent good ones are slaughtered like dogs. Hopefully their martyr’s flame extends to guide others out of the darkness.”
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