Governor: The autonomous collective
WA Delegate: None.
Founder: The autonomous collective
Last WA Update:
Embassies: Libcom, The Republic of Ecuador, Chiapas, Antifa, Republic of Albania, Makhnovia, The Black International, The New Organization, Anarchist Black Cross, DR Congo, Zapatista Colony, The Black Bloc, The MT Army, The Zoo, Taoism, Corporate Profit Alliance, and 42 others.Republican Fascist Party, Squad of Imperial Japanese Soldiers, The Fascist Alliance, Kameradschaft Freikorps, The Grand Fascist Empire of Italy, GGR North Afrika colony, Deutchland, The Conservative Nations, Ljubljana, The Conservative Union, New Stormfront, Castle Wewelsburg, The Himalayas, Port au Prince, Indonesian Archipelago, WhiteAmerica, The American Heartland, Neo Italian Empire, The Sixth Reich, Conservatopia, Republic of Armenia, Nation of Brunei the Abode of Peace, Free World, Federation of God, American Empire, Corporate Conservative, Alliance of Stalinist States, The World Alliance of Fascist States, The United International Fascist Allianc, Confederacy of Conservative States, The Last Reich, The Third Rome Alliance, United Fascist Empire, The Capitalist Paradise Islands, Fascist Imperial Europe, Stonehenge, Buddhism, Mecca, Buddhist Communism, Los Angeles, Devon, and Dubai.
Tags: Anarchist, Anti-Capitalist, Anti-Fascist, Eco-Friendly, Governorless, Minuscule, Multi-Species, and Password.
Autonomous Peoples is home to a single nation.
Today's World Census Report
The Lowest Crime Rates in Autonomous Peoples
World Census agents attempted to lure citizens into committing various crimes in order to test the reluctance of citizens to break the law.
Nation | WA Category | Motto | ||
---|---|---|---|---|
1. | The Squatters of Liberated Spaces | Scandinavian Liberal Paradise | “Hands off the squats. War on the bosses’ war!” |
Regional Happenings
- : The Zahnradist State of Gepanzerberg of the region Small Tropical Island proposed constructing embassies.
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- : The Dictatorship of Russian Red Soviets of the region MineKhan Origin Nations proposed constructing embassies.
- : Meow 1 of the region The Bottomless Pit proposed constructing embassies.
- : The Fabricated Reality of North Truman of the region Truman proposed constructing embassies.
- : Embassyregi0nia of the region EmbassyRegi0nia proposed constructing embassies.
- : Skinheads against racial prejudice of the region Skinheads against racial prejudice proposed constructing embassies.
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- : Embassy cancelled between Grossdeutschland reich and Autonomous Peoples.
- : The Phantasm of Afi-Aftos of the region Fredonia proposed constructing embassies.
Autonomous Peoples Regional Message Board
Post self-deleted by Casita.
Note to my awesome readers:
We are going to begin to look at the writings of sup m. While Zapatismo is not anarchism, I think that we can all learn a great deal from it and apply.
Stay mischievous comrades!
Hello!
I'm going to start posting stuff from Albert Libertad; enjoy :)
The Cult of Carrion and other texts
Germinal, at the Wall of the Fédérés (1898)
To the Resigned (1905)
May Day (1905)
To the Electoral Cattle (1906)
Fear (1906)
Down With the Law! (1906)
Weak Meat (1906)
The Cult of Carrion (1925)
Germinal, at the Wall of the Fédérés (1898)
Near their tomb, in the middle of the gaudy wreaths and bouquets showily brought there, in the grass, in black letters on a red background, someone wrote one word: Germinal.
This person knew how to give the correct tone to this anniversary.
Germinal! This wasn’t a banal remembrance of the dead, this was a call to the living; it wasn’t the pointless glorification of the past, it was a call to the future.
On the tomb of these men who died for freedom, this word called their children to liberating rebellion.
The wreaths, the bouquets, the speeches, were vain palliatives. Germinal was the still living fight, rising up, terrible, calling the workers, the rebels to the imminent harvests.
To the Resigned (1905)
I hate the resigned!
I hate the resigned, like I hate the filthy, like I hate layabouts!
I hate resignation! I hate filthiness, I hate inaction.
I feel for the sick man bent under some malignant fever; I hate the imaginary sick man that a little bit of will would set on his feet.
I feel for the man in chains, surrounded by guardians crushed under the weight of irons on the many.
I hate soldiers who are bent by the weight of braids and three stars; the workers who are bent under the weight of capital.
I love the man who says what he feels wherever he is; I hate the voter seeking the perpetual conquest by the majority.
I love the savant crushed under the weight of scientific research; I hate the individual who bends his body under the weight of an unknown power, of some “X,” of a God,
I hate, I say, all those who, surrendering to others through fear or resignation a part of their power as men, not only keep their heads down, but make me, and those I love, keep our heads down, too through the weight of their frightful collaboration or their idiotic inertia.
I hate them; yes I hate them, because me, I feel it. I don’t bow before the officer’s braid, the mayor’s sash, the gold of the capitalist; morality or religion. For a long time I have known that all of these things are just baubles that we can break like glass...I bend beneath the weight of the resignation of others. O how I hate resignation!
I love life.
I want to live, not in a petty way like those who only satisfy a part of their muscles, their nerves, but in a big way, satisfying facial muscles as well as calves, my back as well as my brain.
I don’t want to trade a portion of now for a fictive portion of tomorrow. I don’t want to surrender anything of the present for the wind of the future.
I don’t want to bend anything of mine under the words fatherland, God, honor. I too well know the emptiness of these words, these religious and secular ghosts.
I laugh at retirement, at paradises the hope for which hope holds the resigned, religions, and capital.
I laugh at those who, saving for their old age, deprive themselves in their youth; those who, in order to eat at sixty, fast at twenty.
I want to eat while I have strong teeth to tear and crush healthy meats and succulent fruits. When my stomach juices digest without problem I want to drink my fill of refreshing and tonic drinks.
I want to love women, or a woman, depending on our common desire, and I don’t want to resign myself to the family, law the Code; nothing has any rights over our bodies. You want, I want. Let us laugh at the family, the law, the ancient form of resignation.
But this isn’t all. I want, since I have eyes, ears, and other senses, more than just to drink, to ea, to enjoy sexual love: I want to experience joy in other forms. I want to see beautiful sculptures and painting, admire Rodin or Manet. I want to hear the best opera companies play Beethoven or Wagner. I want to know the classics at the Comedie Française, page through the literary and artistic baggage left by men of the past to men of the present, or even better, page through the now and forever unfinished oeuvre of humanity.
I want joy for myself, for my chosen companion, for my friends. I want a home where my eyes can agreeably rest when my work is done.
For I want the joy of labor, too; that healthy joy, that strong joy. I want my arms to handle the plane, the hammer, the spade and the scythe.
Let the muscles develop, the thoracic cage become larger with powerful, useful and reasoned movements.
I want to be useful, I want us to be useful. I want to be useful to my neighbor and for my neighbor to be useful to me. I desire that we labor much, for I am insatiable for joy. And it is because I want to enjoy myself that I am not resigned.
Yes, yes I want to produce, but I want to enjoy myself. I want to knead the dough, but eat better bread; to work at the grape harvest, but drink better wine; build a house, but live in better apartments; make furniture, but possess the useful, see the beautiful; I want to make theatres, but big enough to house their me and mine.
I want to cooperate in producing, but I also want to cooperate in consuming.
Some dream of producing for others to whom they will leave, oh the irony of it, the best of their efforts. As for me, I want, freely united with others, to produce but also to consume.
You resigned, look: I spit on your idols. I spit on God, the Fatherland, I spit on Christ, I spit on the flag, I spit on capital and the golden calf; I spit on laws and Codes, on the symbols of religion; they are baubles, I could care less about them, I laugh at them...
Only through you do they mean anything to me; leave them behind and they’ll break into pieces.
You are thus a force, you resigned, one of those forces that don’t know they are one, but who are nevertheless a force, and I can’t spit on you, I can only hate you...or love you.
Above all my desire is that of seeing you shaking off your resignation in a terrible awakening of life.
There is no future paradise, there is no future; there is only the present.
Let us live!
Live! Resignation is death.
Revolt is life.
One word for the above posts and this region as a whole: Sublime.
It's been a while my dear readers.
I will continue to post in the days to come.
I'm back :)
Yes! :)
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