[In response to the racially-motivated Christchurch mass shooting]

Stop platforming far right speakers.

Stop listening to reactionary white dudes on the internet who espouse blood ties as the highest meaning one can achieve.

Stop enabling fascists.

Materially engage with the left in New Zealand before making blanket assumptions about the left in New Zealand.

Male white supremacists have committed far more atrocities than queer black students, and the debt of obtaining tertiary education will tyrannise your existence far more than the right’s misunderstandings of Marxism.

But this isn’t about facts.

This has never been about facts.

There are an infinite number of facts you could mobilise about anything and everything, and you are mobilising a specific set to support a specific reactionary ideology, that arose in a specific material circumstance, which was not New Zealand, but middle-class white American suburbia, an ideal which only came into existence through the exploitation of working class black people and middle-class women forced into the role of mother-caregiver; an ideal increasingly tinged with Northern European white supremacy; both of which are mobilised biopolitically through the discourse of national unity (who must die, in order for the rest to survive).

Materially situate your ideas.

The crisis of masculinity was driven by the crisis of capitalism, not decadent queer youths or immigrant labourers who get paid fuck all and treated like shit; and no priestly power will revive the dead career-fathers of Keynesianism.

This is a call out.

I’m sick of debates being treated as an ideal realm autonomous from material existence.

I’m sick of white dudes telling me other white dudes told them about how women prefer being in the house.

Or how race science needs to be taken seriously.

This is the result.

This is the result.

This is the result.

I get it, it’s a fucking painful lonely existence.

You walk through the Octagon after hearing about the shooting and there’re a thousand drunk fucks outside bars and clubs blasting idiot music as flowers from the wake wilt on the ground.

You wander to a vaporwave gig and feel like throwing up at the sight of the bourgeoisie gawking at an aesthetic that arose out of suicidal youths from the 90’s and 2000’s whose only desire was for a promise capitalism could never have granted in the first place.

You stand awkwardly before a petty cafe owner as they tell you that the crack addict down the road has been ruining their cafe image.

You feel awful about everything.

You feel disgusted at everyone for blaming this or that other without ever having met this or that other.

You feel distraught that the material conditions that render us restless, alienated and precarious, have been ideologically mystified by racist, sexist, classist caricatures.

You regress into an infantile state and drop out of university and feel too anxious and ashamed to meet with any of your friends.

Stop platforming far right speakers.

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