Ladies and Gentlemen, Lads and Lassies, and Others of a Certain Ilk;
May I welcome you to The Manifesto for a Quieter Revolution?
Please do not ask any ‘questions’. Instant questions demand faster answers and that is the birth of all noise.This, on the other hand, is The Manifesto for a Quieter Revolution, or a Revolution of The Quiet. Here the ‘quiet’ must be equated with the silence that follows the thunder, or the calm that follows meditation, and not the kind of quiet synonymous with the mouse. And let it also be known that we are not afraid of the noise, either. Loud or otherwise, they stem from the same cacophony. So this, then, is about non-participation, and the quiet that ensues. So here goes.
It is a Revolution of Silence, echoing the ethos of Non-Participation. For intellectual reference do Google Taoism and you’ll discover more than a whiff of what is an age-old philosophy and a living approach to a life rife with activism, in a most inactive sort of way. That is how this paradox of non-participation is practiced.
It is a Revolution of Refusal. That’s right. Now we are not about ‘Change’ or to ‘Affect Change’. We are not interested in interfering with the Natural Order of Mother and Father Nature. No Sir. No Madam and Others of a Certain Ilk, No. No. No. We are here to quell the noise within. We are here to perform the ‘Inside Job’. Within the breast. Now don’t think of tits and boobs. Keep the lust in your bedrooms or in your loins. Right now we need the heart, if we are to enter the arena. So we are here referring to the Chest of Things. Like a volt or a vault. And the bowels and the guts. The anatomical region where both right and wrongdoing is first felt. And we shall perform that operation without emotion. We shall execute that task without the duress of sentimentality. Or nostalgia. Feelings are nothing but follicles on a flesh rising to pick up signals of distress pertaining to fighting, fleeing or fornicating. Nothing more and nothing less. We are here to chuck away the Burden of Exceptionality. The Weightage of Exclusion. And the Décor of Elitism. Now we shall eat Class for breakfast, Status for brunch, Privilege for lunch, Laurels for supper, Distinctions for dinner and Hypocrisy for drinks. For desserts we shall serve you the plain cake of Humility and for snacks we shall keep chewing Awareness.
And as we go to our beds with our many licentious paramours, we shall hump them all, beginning with Arrogance. Should you find yourself both horny and lonesome, and bedeviled by desire, do shag Solitude. That is the kind of revolution we are gonna stage without embroiling ourselves in theater. We shall embarrass our circumstances and make our environment pay heed to the Natural Order of Things. That is to say we shall allow the pee and the turd an equal expression of disgust and relief. The filth must enjoy the freedom to sink or to float. We shall also not distinguish between the fragrance of the flower and the buzz of the bee when we are gardening or abusing the fields. We shall attempt to appreciate each thing in its own scent even when we are knee-deep in the sinking hole of Bullshit.
And by god we shall rise by the wormy squeeze of our collective anus. Our revolution will separate the bullshit from the ox and call it by its proper name of ‘Man-Shit’. The revolution shall have no headquarters, no staff and no personnel. There shall be no titles or positions. There shall be nothing. The revolution’s logo will be the ‘Air’. Now we invite you to draw this logos that cannot be sketched. That will be our first revolution. Our catchphrase will be ‘Passing By’, or ‘Bypassing’; whichever rolls musically on your tongues and off your lips. Our salutations will be the head that appears to nod but does not. Our bow will be the bow that appears to bow but does not. We shall recognize each other’s presence in each other’s absence. At home, we shall eat less and read more. Abroad, we shall talk less and graze more. Where governments are concerned we shall jeopardize the bureaucracy by being jovial to the point of utter mutual bemusement. The same applies to politicians. We shall carry the brush of embarrassment and blush everything red with the truth of ridicule. We shall achieve this without preaching. We shall not mount the underdog nor shall we bend over for the top-dog. The rat-race will have no checkered flag. We shall kidnap and banish all referees to anonymity, along with their whistles and their trophies.
We shall revolutionize the accepted gestures of pride, greed and anger by pinging them on a table of tennis until their balls deflate back to the invisible logos of the cosmos.
In this manner, we shall flatten all manmade balls. And we shall pop all manmade bubbles with the prick of consciousness. But we shall respect the Universal Vagina as the Cosmic Void of the Divine Yoni and Mold our behavior as such. And we shall do this in spite of ourselves. We shall do that despite ourselves. We shall do that because that is what we shall do without being told to do so by Nike, Apple, Facebook, MacDonald’s or Mr. Levis and his Corporation Incorporated. And if analysts sponsored by the fearful powerful inspect our stratagem they shall discover a trait they cannot fathom – that these revolutionaries are not participating in anything. That these revolutionaries are non-participants. That they are pacifists who make things happen. That they cannot be bought or sold or bribed or flattered or shamed or cajoled. This then will be the Birth of the Revolutionary Biped. This then will be the Revolution without a Name, a Leader, a Credo or a Logos.
This then will be a revolution of such confusion that there will be a revolt against such a revolution. The ensuing revolution will carry all the characteristics contrary to the Nameless Revolution of the Quiet and the Silence and commit Murder and Mayhem and Bribe and Coercion. This revolt will fail like all others, choking in its own puke. And as it lies dying, we shall resurrect Mister Vomit without the slightest pity, and welcome him back to the Fold of the Original Revolution of the Quiet.
So Ladies and Gentlemen, Lads and Lassies, and Others of a Certain Ilk, may I again welcome you to the revolution? For within yourselves, it was long revolutionized. All that was required was a reminder of non-participation, and some contemplative quiet.
(The writer is an editor, writer and founder of yallamma_the_writing_company.)