Burn down their stations and set their cars alight
Know that I went out fighting and wish we all
Could just have peace and be free
…
We cannot have peace until this empire falls. Even then, peace takes work and freedom is a constant struggle. If the cops kill me I want you to riot, to kill as many of them as you can.” – Tort’s diary p. 121
Tortuguita lived and died fighting for the dispossessed, the wild, and the feral; against the world of empire, prisons, and police. It was a true warrior who made the forest its home, devoted their life to the struggle, and was willing to die a revolutionary death rather than be captured. We invite all those who knew Tort, and all who were impacted by its life from afar, to take the anniversary of their death as an opportunity to reflect on our own commitments and deepen our resolve, so that we might invigorate and intensify our conflictuality.
Rather than retreat into the bounds of comfort and safety, let us allow our memory of Tort to remind us of what it means to truly act in accordance with our values, and to challenge ourselves to follow through. We are rendered harmless only when we allow our fear of the enemy to eclipse our desires to defend the land and reduce this capitalist hellworld to ashes. Remember that the mechanisms of subjugation and control encroach all around us. Wherever you are, you need not venture far to find the veins of industry; go out and sever them.
We need not be concerned with optics and media portrayals. We have no interest in seeking validation, recognition, or understanding from the same media outlets — agents of the society we wish to destroy — that deadname and misgender Tortuguita and relentlessly whitewash its life as one of nonviolence and passivity. Additionally, to contort our actions to render them acceptable to the general public is to inevitably dull them to the point of irrelevance. To work only within the confines of the existent is to disarm ourselves completely. As anarchists, we are able to speak to each other in a language all our own. When we redecorate walls, shatter windows, and set fires, we speak to each other in ways that the media and the general public need not understand; we become beautiful. When we refuse legibility, when we refuse sympathy and demands, we refuse cooptation, we refuse recuperation, and we seek out life.
Via Scenes from the Atlanta Forest –
“If the cops kill me I want you to riot
Burn down their stations and set their cars alight
Know that I went out fighting and wish we all
Could just have peace and be free
…
We cannot have peace until this empire falls. Even then, peace takes work and freedom is a constant struggle. If the cops kill me I want you to riot, to kill as many of them as you can.” – Tort’s diary p. 121
Tortuguita lived and died fighting for the dispossessed, the wild, and the feral; against the world of empire, prisons, and police. It was a true warrior who made the forest its home, devoted their life to the struggle, and was willing to die a revolutionary death rather than be captured. We invite all those who knew Tort, and all who were impacted by its life from afar, to take the anniversary of their death as an opportunity to reflect on our own commitments and deepen our resolve, so that we might invigorate and intensify our conflictuality.
Rather than retreat into the bounds of comfort and safety, let us allow our memory of Tort to remind us of what it means to truly act in accordance with our values, and to challenge ourselves to follow through. We are rendered harmless only when we allow our fear of the enemy to eclipse our desires to defend the land and reduce this capitalist hellworld to ashes. Remember that the mechanisms of subjugation and control encroach all around us. Wherever you are, you need not venture far to find the veins of industry; go out and sever them.
We need not be concerned with optics and media portrayals. We have no interest in seeking validation, recognition, or understanding from the same media outlets — agents of the society we wish to destroy — that deadname and misgender Tortuguita and relentlessly whitewash its life as one of nonviolence and passivity. Additionally, to contort our actions to render them acceptable to the general public is to inevitably dull them to the point of irrelevance. To work only within the confines of the existent is to disarm ourselves completely. As anarchists, we are able to speak to each other in a language all our own. When we redecorate walls, shatter windows, and set fires, we speak to each other in ways that the media and the general public need not understand; we become beautiful. When we refuse legibility, when we refuse sympathy and demands, we refuse cooptation, we refuse recuperation, and we seek out life.
Avenge Tortuguita — Avenge the Forest