*This is a translation. This article was originally published in Italian in Il Blast, Italy’s first Accelerationist blog/zine: War Mental Hygiene – Blast (ilblast.it)*
I know five guys, they are all what in the modern world we might say are: privileged. They are all five eager to go to war, not even to save any nation, or to serve their country: they are eager to fight, to scar, to hurt, to have a purpose.
Since when did war become, in our eyes, such a whore?
Since when, if you want to have that moment of happy feverish insomnia, you have to get loaded onto a ferry to Mariupol?
There is no war being talked about here, I mean man-on-man conflict. We speak only of peace, while continuing to inject the market with production, whether of weapons or medicine.
Where is mental hygiene? The only medicine that can free us from the paranoid nightmare of peace?
Putin declares war on Ukraine, for real this time. Troops reach Kiev, encircle the Capital, the West is in crisis, politics is split, the European Regime is on its last legs.
It imposes sanctions against the Russian Army, the Red Army, the Separatist Republics.
We needed it!
To bring the country, Italy and Europe back to reality, after the psychological massacre of putting up with only information on COVID for three years. We at Blast are waiting for the mental escalation!
Liberals gone mad, who will think about the market when the bombs fall? The European economy on its knees after embargoing Mother Russia, Futurist China and the craziest countries of the millennium. The West fell yesterday, today we gather its ashes to put them in the grave, and throw dirt, taxes, deaths at work, police beating up protesters, COVID certificates and other fine democracies on top of it.
We’ve been asleep too long, too long thinking about new doses, consumption, the pensive ecstasy of vaccines, decrees and the illusion of liberal democracy. Now we are at war, and war will be our psychotropic drug.
Don’t trust the Liberal State, it lies, it has already lost, it will do anything to say it is winning against entropy.
Politics is dead, let the guns do the talking.
And we’re up in arms again for you! Fucking Violence!
I know five guys. They live empty lives, like most of us (and for those who say their lives are complete, some empathy!) and with no clear purpose other than to fuck, eat and get back to mating. The hand holds the penis but does not hold the sword. Waking modern man up to war (women will be taken care of by Milanese Anonymous) is like taking and shooting yourself against the grain at a ball, then trying to make a baby. A complete useless suicide.
A man, often praised by the right wing, had said that war today is a total victory of mechanics, and that man has become subordinate to the machine. A worker, an arbeiter.
And that the First World War, from which he emerged with fourteen wounds and a Pour le Merite (something no one today can even think of doing, let alone the dickheads of the alt-right), was the Mother of mechanical warfare, against the previous wars, still fought by human beings and not by cogs.
After all: when the nation that governs us has 70% of its population obese or overweight, pressing buttons to drop bombs becomes so easy and convenient. Right Mr. Biden? My guess is if I gave you a spada you’d stick it in your arm, thinking it’s a different blade altogether (italian: Spada, a slang for syringe of heroin)
We at Blast say, war is based.
I, in my sacred use of the Blast matrix, say: Yes, but pressing buttons and commanding drones is not based, it’s just subjugation to machinery, it’s the cogs that’s doing the heroic deed.
Where are the cavalry charges? Where is the sound of cannons? Where is the pistol duel?
Where is war, the world’s only mental hygiene? Where are the memories broken and the bloodshed?
I have five friends, one of them plays sports, one watches anime, one makes YouTube videos, one is a real estate agent, one sings trap. All five of us, make that six (including me), are here today to make clear our intention to actively take the field and declare a Jihad, a true holy war, on the superstition of pacifism.
The liberal hypocrisy, left and right, is there for all to see, and there is no need to reveal it. All of a sudden, war becomes the new COVID, all of a sudden, every hostile country is a warmonger, and we are left with our penises in our hands, not with our rifles in search of a goal.
And in these difficult times, difficult for sanity, I would like a renewed futurism. An Ardito with a blade between his lips and a grenade in his fist, ready to blow up the frontal cortex of our brain, throwing a bomb at the stupid, clownish pacifist hypocrisy and freeing us from evil, from the real evil which is the lack of a certain aim, of a purpose.
The equation is simple: go to war, die or come back. Either way you have had an experience.
And we want this experience more than anything else.
Futurism Forever 