The Laughing Revolution

 MANIFESTO

I’m the Laughing Revolution, singing in the acid rain: “ It’s time for the unexpected!"

Fresh combinations, ruminations, peregrinations, prestidigitations of things already known into things unknown—an easy-does-it economy.

No littering of minds with backward ideas!

No proliferation of useless objects!

Let’s go shopping in the Cathedrals of Differentiation, open 24 hours, or one of my spick-and-span Super Dumps, their treasures on display, each with its proper sense and in its proper place—reborn.

Everything is remade: guns and bombs are toys now, so many fireworks for a celebration. Cars no longer spew carbon monoxide; they hum, fed with quiet, cool ethanol, or with hydrogen, producing only water as waste.

Worn parts are used elsewhere, for other ends, and if there is no mechanical use, we make them into art.

Each mall in our chain has teams of local consultants, artisan-futurists who can help you give brilliancy to everyday things.

We preach and practice the aesthetics of the ephemeral.

No more art as scare tactic. What’s the use of turning a knife in the old wounds?

I  produce no“income,” so as to maintain encumbering bureaucracies with taxes, don't  allow social dependencies or wars.

I invent jobs, like new games.

Calmly traveling backward in history, I don’t worry about money, looking instead for an exchange of gifts, of the old for the new, the new for the old, exchanging boxes with contents, and contents with your dreams.

No banks are involved, no calculators.

I offer my time and my abilities, asking only what I need and giving only what I can.

Occupied or unoccupied, never preoccupied, I don’t hide, don’t forget,  don’t cry about any wish lists. This is a worry-free society!

I listen to the sound the light makes, the singing of the sun in its secret places.

Inside, I live outside open space; outside I live inside the limitless.

My house is a meeting point for creatures of light: humans, animals, plants.

I tighten my belt, to be able to share my fortune with others, waiting on the runway for immigrants, dreams and shooting stars.

I tell men fairytales about themselves, showing them how to make them into reality.

I keep an eye on the shadows of the past, but only at dawn, when they are pink and blue.

The sunset of civilization has nothing  to do with me, except to keep the address of those who might remember something good from it.

I haven’t time to bother with old mistakes.

I follow the slanting rays of the sunlight on the air, just in from eternity, bring the economy back among the people, offering my time and skill, showing them new skills. 

I walk with my head high among the clouds, and sometimes above them, seriously happy. My fuel is wind, I’m laughing, but not joking.

Come with me, into the circus ring of the Laughing Revolution.