BURN SHIT treads precariously across the various sub-genres of the infantile disorder.

BURN SHIT is talking the hardest. Ideas improve. The meaning of words participates in the improvement. Plagiarism is necessary. Progress implies it. It embraces an author’s phrase, makes use of his expressions, erases a false idea, and replaces it with the right idea.

We are chopping and changing, to-and-fro between the infinite brands of ultra-leftism. Our positions will fluctuate and evolve.

‘And only a few encounters were like signals emanating from a more intense life, a life that has not really been found.’

We reject ideological dogmas and theoretical uniformity, and embrace contradiction, antagonism and criticism. We do not seek harmony. There will be no end of history.

‘Desire knows nothing of exchange, it knows only theft and gift.’

Often ‘The Left’, more so than ‘The Right’, will be the primary target of our critique. We will not be nailed down by pre-fixes or isms. The sorry band of militants needs a shake-up.

‘All the stupidity and the arbitrariness of the laws, all the pain of the initiations, the whole perverse apparatus of repression and education, the red-hot irons, and the atrocious procedures have only this meaning: to breed man, to mark him in his flesh, to render him capable of alliance, to form him within the debtor-creditor relation, which on both sides turns out to be a matter of memory – a memory straining toward the future.’

The thing I hate about you, Rowntree, is the way you give Coca-Cola to your scum, and your best teddy bear to Oxfam, and expect us to lick your frigid fingers for the rest of your frigid life.

BURN SHIT takes inspiration from all the movements, struggles and philosophical traditions that can loosely be grouped under the banner of ‘libertarian communism’.

I’m afraid of what will happen now. I feel we ain’t ready – for a completely new way of life. At Manderlay we slaves took supper at seven. When do people take supper when they’re free? We don’t know these things.

The Mafia is not an outsider in this world; it is perfectly at home. Indeed, in the integrated spectacle it stands as the model of all advanced commercial enterprises.

‘The state lies in all the tongues of good and evil; and whatever it says it lies; and whatever it has it has stolen.
Everything in it is false; it bites with stolen teeth, and bites often. It is false down to its bowels.’

Fuck a hand-out, I went out there and took; didn’t stay in the house I went out there and look.

This week, we have mostly been making a bonfire of all the property deeds, contracts, statute books, laws and money, before dancing on the charred wasteland of Canary Wharf,  and joining the parties and carnivals in the looted offices around Westminster.


‘In truth, there are never contradictions, apparent or real,  but only degrees of humour.’

BURN SHIT operates in a field of radical social critique where the sacred cows are already slain.

State is the name of the coldest of all cold monsters. Coldly it lies, and this lie slips from its mouth, ‘I, the state, am the people.’

It is a lie!

Rumour has it that every third-world a leader coined the same phrase the morning after independence. “Now the real problems start.”

They are taking the piss out of you when they make you pay in shops… Waiting for self-management, we’ll apply the critique of the brick.

‘Everyone is asked their opinion about every detail in order to prevent them from forming one about the totality.’

Fuck cops, I’m a fucking rock star, rebel and defiance make my motherfucking cock hard. Fuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards, I’m a fuck-up? Fuck Harvard.

We are allowed to do anything we like, as long as it is unimportant.

BURN SHIT has an impeccable par game. Wow, what a speech! Half Moses, half Mickey Mouse.