A Fiery Flying Roule:

to all the inhabitants of the earth; specially to the rich ones

the first & second decades + a handful

If you missed us in the commons, enquire here to see whether any remain.

A Fiery Flying Roule [11|2|11]

inspired in equal parts by the 17th C. Levellers, Diggers, and Ranters (on the one hand) and Dr. Bronners labels (on the other). This one dwells on the poetics of the people’s mic. Designed for doublesided printing, then fold in half. Feel free to distribute and share as you please. We’ll have a couple copies on hand this afternoon.

A Second Fiery Flying Roule [11|6|11]

a poem about a mosquito, a little sermon, a discussion of tactics, & a letter on riots and doubt

A Third Fiery Flying Roule [11|7|11]

this time the dragnet captures photos of the OPD on 10/25, a letter from Chicago on the People’s Microphone, a love letter from Rosa Luxemburg, and a poem that insists: “Here we are.” Send it where ever you care to. And if you print it, be sure to do it double-sided, and then fold the thing in half. 

A Fourth Fiery Flying Roule [11|8|11]

today’s roulle treats mathematics, populism, and the pluripotent verb “occupye.” If we fail to thrust one of these randomly into your hand in a public space, same easy assembly instructions as ever: print double-sided and fold in half. Yesterday’s letter from Chicago is addressed here. See how this form of fire bounces? From Wall Street to Chicago to the Bay to Maine. Where this spark go next? Thanks in advance for any and all advice and/or admonition (we crave both).

A Fifth Fiery Flying Roule [11|9|11]

the widening gyre of this role/rule/roll is framed by citations concerning overarching fantasy and cop-kissing, and contains 1. an illustration of lift, 2. letters from a student, and 3. a photograph that captures the jackboots of the Oakland Police Department demonstrating their arresting technique the afternoon of 10/25/2011 (after the clearance of the Plaza and before the grave wounding of Scott Olsen)

A Sixth Fiery Flying Roule [11|10|11]

today’s effervescent theme remains a secret, tho we confess to have received provocative inspiration from the Oakland Liberation Front (a.k.a. OLF, wch we were told is pronounced “oaf”). In the course of disbursing these pamphlets in Sproule last night someone asked editor Abiezer Coppe whether there was a Fiery Flying website, as if the free sheets of paper in his very hands were not enough! After some parley it was conceded that he had a point (“I want to show my friend in New York,” etc), and we have resolved to crack this nut within the fortnight. 

A Seventh Fiery Flying Roule [11|11|11]

several firsts to draw your attention to in this roule:

1 / our first advertisement, honoring the wounded veterans of Occupy Oakland, from a motley outfit calling itself the Rosa Luxemburg Writers Brigade - Cuttlefish Division. All I can tell you is that they were chanting “this is what ‘diversity of tactics’ looks like” when they delivered copy early this morning, and that they forced us to watch this brief instructional video, specially designed for the chromatophorically challenged among us.

Also in this iteration you will find:

2 / our first Arabic poetry (in transliteration and translation) from Tahrir Square;

3 / our first mentions of both Karl Marx and Milton Friedman; and

4 / a new feature that is intended to counteract the breathless amnesia of what is called “the news” with something we call “the olds” — a genre designed to dissolve the amnesiac grip of our encounters with current events — this time remembering the Bonus Expeditionary Force of 1932, their occupation of Washington DC, and the cowardly attack they sustained from the US Army

An Eighth Fiery Flying Roule [11|14|11]

today’s roule responds to this morning’s (inevitable) news with another less long-range variation on “the olds,” this time in the form of a dispatch concerning the March 26 clearance of Trafalgar Square in London earlier this year, wch can indicate the ways in which the convulsions in North American cities and campuses are not disconnected from lambent spasms that have transpired at the other end of “the North Atlantic republican tradition,” as J.G.A. Pocock calls it (sometimes also known as “the North Atlantic turbine”).

On 26 March 2011 in London, more than half a million marchers protested the UK government’s “austerity programs”; at the end of the march a handful of tents sprang up at the base of Nelson’s Column in emulation of the Tahrir Square protests of Jan/Feb; by the end of the night the Metropolitan Police force, ruthlessly flexing their newly developed “kettling” muscles, had arrested over 1,000 protestors. Their rationale? Let Commander Bob Broadhurst explain: “for some reason one of [the protestors] made an attack on the Olympic clock.” A falsehood, it turns out, but one that ran in all the papers.

This does of course have to do with time and its temper — the kairos, that is, that flares from Cairo to London to Oakland — but it’s the type of time no clock can tell: people’s time.

“The plan to camp out it Trafalgar square is tactically brilliant and must not succeed,” this dispatch declares: “real passion really does make disproportionate analogies powerful.”  (You are welcome to jump to conclusions, but you must read the pamphlet itself to comprehend the tone.)

* * *  

Forthcoming roules are desperate for on-the-ground eyewitnessing, of however lyrical or scientific a nature, and at whatever proximity or distance, temporally or spatially; the privilege of anonymity, if desired, shall be absolutely honored. Space and time are limited, but we desire to do our best. The more matter we have to hand the better we can disrupt the pattern (we mean this both superficially and etymologically). Also craved: imagery, theory, love letters, and (especially) practical recipes. Anybody know how to make a composting toilet? Let’s get real. The octopus thinks with her hands. Operaismo! 

A Ninth Fiery Flying Roule [11|15|11]

what the kid said to the cop, leaving Oscar Grant Plaza last night: “Turns out we don’t really need tents. Do you really need those truncheons?” Today’s roule features the coordinates for tear gas acupuncture treatment, just in case you favor that modality and happen to get caught up in a game of chemical-weapon football with Alameda County Sheriff deputies this afternoon at Bjezerkeley. The rest is just the usual stunt: stuff about weddings and revolutions, a fable from the secrecy officer about a fox and a king, an injunction from the legendary reformer Wm Tyndale to “occupye the kynge with straunge loue,” and a theory about self-inflicted violence as told by a veteran to the armored officers guarding the Oakland Police Department HQ on Veterans Day. Stop Beating Veterans! Stop Beating Students! Stop Beating Anyone! Stop Beating Everyone!

A Tenth Fiery Flying Roule [11|17|11]

This roule appears to have been infiltrated by lingo from Leveller G. Winstanley (see p. 3). Also included:

= a poem about prisms

= words spoken on Sproule Plaza this past Tuesday

= definition of “a genre of unforeclosed experience,” a.k.a. “the situation”

In other news: the letter from Chicago on the people’s mic in ffr3 has reappeared (with instructive additions) in this lively venue

An Eleventh Fiery Flying Roule [11|18|11]

= a poem found written on the wall at school

= a lizard

= some biological commonplaces

= debating tactics at the 2010 Vancouver anti-Olympics

= a letter from England sending strength to the arms of the Croataoan Poetry Cell of Chicago and all other poets who fancy themselves in revolt against the corporate establishments that be

+ please remember to send news, laments, objections, theories, photos, and poems — the more matter to hand the better the pattern disruption. Looking in particular for info on LRAD. Also, ffr10 observed here

A Twelfth Fiery Flying Roule [11|23|11]

a first pass at the issue of “translation,” including:

= five questions composed on 11/5/11 

= a description of aporitopian desire

= citations from Hamlet, Ben Jonson’s “To the reader,” & Sean Bonney’s “Letter on riots and doubt,” each concerning “understanding” (wch we take in the etymological sense of both “standing beneath” & “giving substance to”)

= something about strategos, power, & the telling of signs

= some puns about nous; two photographs; an unidentified line from Paradise Lost (+ 2 other uncited filaments of text)

= & a random Petrarch poem about recrudescence

A Thirteenth Fiery Flying Roule [12|4|11]

A Fourteenth Fiery Flying Roule [12|4|11]

double gobble Sunday edition: 13 starts with the butcher and ends with power (by way of microbiology and other structures and realms); 14 announces the SF side of the dial, consensing nonforeclosure (assisted by Winstanley’s deep grammar) and insisting on noneviction (per a salutary puzzle between ‘horse’ and ‘house’)

A Fifteenth Fiery Flying Roule [12|11|11]

herewith two poems (one about how “to be a worker in it” and another from the dictionary of indo-european routes) coupled with a discussion by way of Milwaukee about the computer of vulnerability. Interspersed you will also find strange runic inscriptions, a line we heard at the reading last weekend, an aerial photo of the land below, and a filament of skywriting recently seen overhead above the Wisconsin episode.

A Sixteenth Fiery Flying Roule [12|11|11]

containing: 1/ “The chorus of the secret police,” 2/ a murmurandom on how to swarm, & 3/ a bundle of news you can’t afford to not use concerning a spoonefull of Pepper and other forms of abuse that have been administered of late by the authorities

A Seventeenth Fiery Flying Roule [11|21|11]

this daze roule concentrates upon oeconomic violence, hypocrisy, footwear, andoumboulouism, 4 beefy cops, & 7 fancy dancers


An Eighteenth Fiery Flying Roule [12|30|11]

R.I.P. Oscar Grant III

 

A Nineteenth Fiery Flying Roule [1|10|12]

Of shapes transformde to bodies straunge I purpose to entreate.

The investigation’s iterations are to include

= a parable about a beetle, a caterpillar, and a butterfly

= a discussion of tactics, strategies, and logistics

= a definition of “the absolute weapon”

= & a poem about a parade

bonne année à toutes les choses

+ please keep sending tips and hints


A Twentieth Fiery Flying Roule [1|20|12]

this only happens to coincide with #J20, & comes packed with byplay & innuendo.  Last lines:

we’re for lost city” | “We can’t be represented.” | “I did it for the portable hoard”

[ not to be confused with “horde,” whose portability the tardy rains appear to have only increased today on the streets of SF ]

A Twentieth-first Fiery Flying Roule [1|31|12]

dear fellow occupants: welcome to the Downtown Oakland YMCA! In this episode we try our hand at performative uttering, commit some hardnosed reporting about outside agitators attacking Oakland, and transmit “The Second Sermon on the Warpland.”

A Twenty-second Fiery Flying Roule [2|6|12]

This episode addresses: the so-called problem of contemporary democracy; the impasse of the global urban present; the legitimacy of the police [as] a cause of police violence; & that which no tourniquet can dispel

A Twenty-third Fiery Flying Roule [4|29|12]

is about jail and includes an uncollected poem from 1956 by Robert Creeley that is not owned by the Regents of the University of California and (sadly) is news that stays news you can use. [Print doublesided and fold in half for the right effect.] This song recorded by Alan Lomax nine years earlier on Parchman Farm offers a rather different application of the instrument in question. You can tell him I’m gone, you can tell him I’m gone. #M1GS @misroule

A Twenty-fourth Fiery Flying Roule [4|30|12]

interprets an eclipse, supplies three takes on dreams, and offers a definition of “community,” before concluding with a word problem. Print several doublesided, fold them in half, and hand them out randomly to strangers tomorrow. Tell them the quiz will be on Mayday. Essay question: Why do we dream? 

A Twenty-fifth Fiery Flying Roule  [4|30|12]

includes a coin promising “the end of oppression,” tips on how to improve your credit, a poem about “the Inhabitants,” and a song to be singing on Mayday. 

Let’s take it easy, but let’s take it!

  • 22 January 2012
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