When they shout for clean neighborhoods, it smells of blood

When they shout for clean neighborhoods,
it smells of blood

The blood of the migrants that are exiled to the concentration camps after the eviction of the squats where they used to live and stand with as much dignity as possible.

The blood at the borders, the seas, the working places, the cells and the police stations, the blood of the damned that were trying to find a solution for the dead ends of their daily survival.

The blood that paints red the streets and the pavements, the same
blood that paints red the cop’s glob or the fascist’s knife, the same blood that arms the automatic guns of the full-armored cops who secure the dominant order with their patrol-vans, or the carbine of the bosses and the pacified owners who would kill in order to defend their sacred property.

The blood that quietly soaks the red carpet that is rolled out for investors and real-estate owners, for the sake of development, progress, tourism, the nation: for the sake of capitalism.

On the pretext of the state’s war against drugs, against “lawlessness”, the war for the “cleaning of the neighborhoods by the outcasts”, it emerges the profile of the superfluous ones: the “dust” and the “garbage”, as was fluently expressed by the syndicalist cop Balaskas.

The aspired normality is raised exactly over the existence of these exclusions. The streets that are walked by the “virtuous ones” in the world of the state and economic domination, are built exactly over the dead bodies of the superfluous ones.

In this war, the “garbage” take stand: the stand of solidarity among them, of the effort to co-organize and take back the control of their own lives as much as possible.

Parts of this effort are the squats, the demonstrations, the gatherings, the solid support of each other, the relationships that we build on the base of equality, honesty, empathy and responsibility.

It’s our world against theirs
and we are two worlds in conflict

assembly from around Ameriki’s square