What shall we do, when public art becomes so vulgarly Marketable,
So Progressive, so Modern, so Global?
Set it on fire, and in doing so, create the next avant-garde:
The flaming wicks of Molotov cocktails will be our paintbrushes,
Terrifying sirens and megaphones will be our orchestras, we’ll scribe
New howling forms of poetry with every strike of a baton while the
Popping report of riot gas canisters punctuate our stanzas.
This is a symphony. – Rayan Castle
This is the point of no return – the cut – through which the before and after are forever incommensurable.
This is the return of beauty, the return of joy, the return of autonomia – the return of a freedom to create forms of existence that escape any attempts of capture.
The Revolution will be a Festival. Coming 2018.