Post by Feral Wolf on Jul 3, 2010 10:15:38 GMT -7
Hey folks! We know getting back into the flow of techo-industrial
civilization is never fun after a good stint in the woods, but we're
hoping you're have a bit of time to process and reflect upon your
experiences at Wild Roots Feral Futures 2010.
Though active feedback is preferable to retro-active feedback, we value
both, and are thus soliciting event attendees and organizers alike to
submit feedback and report-backs about your experiences at the gathering,
both good AND bad.
We'd love to publish folks' report-backs, so please let us know if that is
or is not okay with you. If not, that's fine, but we still value and want
your feedback. Just let us know to keep it private, and we will respect
that.
For our part as local organizers, we've been very busy since the event
ended, and have yet to find the time and energy to write report-backs of
our own. But we promise we will do so, and soon. Please submit feedback to
feralfutures@riseup.net or post it to this list if you want it to be
public. To get the ball rolling we're reposting the first report-back
we've received. Thanks!
--------------------------------------
The literary results of my time at "anarchy camp". Unfortunately, I was
only there for a few days; I missed both the beginning and end of the
event. It was interesting: fun to camp in the woods with a temporary
community of like-minded folk, but I'm not sure I would want to do it on a
permanent basis, as many of my fellow campers seemed to desire. What can I
say, I like my books, bicycle, and city life?
Following the Call of the Woods: Some Impressions of Wild Roots/Feral
Futures 2010
The Wild Roots/Feral Futures gathering took place nestled in the rugged
San Juan National Forest of southwestern Colorado, stretching from the
first quarter moon on Saturday, June 19th, through the Summer Solstice on
the 21st, to the full moon on Saturday the 26th, although many camped out
days prior and stayed past the “official” end of the gathering. Billed as
“a rewilding gathering of rebel tribes and Earth warriors”, Feral Futures
essentially an opportunity to unplug from the consumerist, urban milieu in
which most of us live and struggle from day to day, and instead visualize
and practice living in communal simplicity, freed from Civilization's
technology and social hierarchy and in connection with the rhythms of
Nature.
After driving or walking the long, winding red dirt road up the Piedra
River Valley, the first sign of the gathering is the upper meadow with its
parking spaces and the Welcome Tent, where the volunteer detail greet
visitors with the ol' Red-and-Black and Skull-and-Crossbones, stacks of
zines and other literature held down by rocks (always in natural
abundance), and suggestions on where to put down supplies. In most cases,
this means taking a long hike downhill from the parking pasture, past
meadows and the deer skeleton hung on a tree and through a series of
zigzagging switchbacks, until you reached the sprawling river clearing
below. Here amidst the green grass and the towering pines sprawls the
entire camp: a fire circle, multiple tents, the “homeless shelter” built
of logs, tarps, and pine needle insulation, even a massage table and cache
of art supplies, as well as the obligatory shitter trench dug out at the
treeline. Unlike your typical weekend car camping site, this is clearly a
space that had been occupied, however temporarily, by a community of
people determined to live in sharing with one another.
Approaching the fire, one hears a discussion of the recent goat slaughter,
of whether or not it was natural, ethical, and compassionate to bring an
animal raised on a farm to an unfamiliar environment by truck, kill it
under the intent gaze of several onlookers, yet thereby expose many who
may have never seen meat and blood aside from a shrink-wrapped grocery
store package to the reality of life and death. Meanwhile, several hundred
yards upstream at “carnivore camp”, nonchalant meat-eaters share in the
rambunctious pleasures of stretching the hide and eating “Rocky Mountain
oysters”, bonafide goat testicles hot off the fire griddle.
Throughout the week you could partake in various workshops, freely offered
and freely attended. There were opportunities to learn about bowdrilling
to start a fire, tying knots to climb and defend trees, get tattoos,
participate in the trading blanket (which inspired its own discussions on
the comparative merits of gift, barter, and market economics), learn how
to defend oneself from the cops using the Russian martial arts discipline,
Systema, how to run an underground newspaper like the scrappy Red Pill
Journal out of Grand Junction, and many other skills besides. One of the
more compelling workshops was on establishing Rites of Passage for the
nascent anarchist/primitivist community, filling the vacuum filled by
consumerist society's suppression of traditional cutlures while avoiding
the co-option of indigenous practices and ways. This sparked a
conversation on how adolescents in the “mainstream” find their own “Rites
of Passages” through sex, drugs, and alcohol; how anarchists may often
replace those with mosh pits, solos in the woods, ideological awakening
and forming a countercultural community; and whether there really even is
such a community, and how well-rooted and long-lasting it might be. It
would seem these are some of the biggest questions facing us in making the
anti-authoritarian, pro-autonomy movement cohesive, meaningful, and
effective over the long term.
Besides mutual education were many joys and pleasures of living in
non-hierarchical community: volunteering to help cook or gather and split
firewood; sharing meals, literature, and basic tools; singing along with
the banjo to old folk and hobo standbys like “Rattlin' Bog” and “The Big
Rock Candy Mountain”; dancing and drumming in campfire celebration of the
Solstice. And magical moments, too, especially under the beautiful,
bewitching wax of the moon: the crystal river shimmering over rocks in the
streambed, pine trees somehow towering even taller and more majestic over
the meadows under the gentle gaze of Luna, of Diana.
Feral Futures was not for everyone; unfortunately, at least one person had
to be taken back to “Civilization”, to leave a situation which was clearly
outside their comfort zone. This was a reminder of how deeply embedded we
can become in the cheap conveniences and false securities of mainstream
society, and of how truly unplugging oneself from the dominant order,
whether from its grocery stores or its electronic gadgets, its hospitals
or its police, takes practice, time, the acquisition of skills for
interdependent self-sufficiency and real, conscious patience and intent.
Other challenges also arose. Having sufficient clean water was an issue,
as no one volunteered to bring in the hoped-for water tanks, although a
combination of boiling and bleaching largely solved this problem, and
could be greatly alleviated with the greater presence of personal water
filtration systems. There were occasional tense dynamics between different
subgroups, highlighting the need to pursue and discuss mutual
understanding and respect. At one point, concerns about a prescribed
forest burn possibly getting out of hand were addressed by directly
calling the US Forest Service. There were even some who participated yet
expressed dissatisfaction or doubts about the real commitment to
“primitivism”, as campers relied almost entirely on store-bought foods,
soaps, and hand sanitizers. Despite any of these particular issues,
though, everyone got along fairly well, and most seemed to enjoy their
time in the woods.
The premise of primitivism and anti-civ/post-civ, the call to “visualize
vast wilderness” and “actualize industrial collapse”, is interesting, and
sure to lead debates as elsewhere in the anti-authoritarian movement, as
in markets vs. communes, or insurrection vs. gradual institution-building;
and total anti-civ primitivism may (or may not) be more than even many
anarchists would pursue. Yet with the camaraderie of hiking to volunteer
for the security/welcome watch, or sharing in good conversation, song, and
cooking around the campfire, it is easy to see, and to feel, the appeal of
being in a tribe, far away from the monotony of Mallworld, the everyday
life of alienated work and consumption, and attending much closer to the
call of the Wild.
Written by Sean Sanford, Denver
Thanks to the many organizers and participants of Wild Roots, Feral
Futures 2010!
civilization is never fun after a good stint in the woods, but we're
hoping you're have a bit of time to process and reflect upon your
experiences at Wild Roots Feral Futures 2010.
Though active feedback is preferable to retro-active feedback, we value
both, and are thus soliciting event attendees and organizers alike to
submit feedback and report-backs about your experiences at the gathering,
both good AND bad.
We'd love to publish folks' report-backs, so please let us know if that is
or is not okay with you. If not, that's fine, but we still value and want
your feedback. Just let us know to keep it private, and we will respect
that.
For our part as local organizers, we've been very busy since the event
ended, and have yet to find the time and energy to write report-backs of
our own. But we promise we will do so, and soon. Please submit feedback to
feralfutures@riseup.net or post it to this list if you want it to be
public. To get the ball rolling we're reposting the first report-back
we've received. Thanks!
--------------------------------------
The literary results of my time at "anarchy camp". Unfortunately, I was
only there for a few days; I missed both the beginning and end of the
event. It was interesting: fun to camp in the woods with a temporary
community of like-minded folk, but I'm not sure I would want to do it on a
permanent basis, as many of my fellow campers seemed to desire. What can I
say, I like my books, bicycle, and city life?
Following the Call of the Woods: Some Impressions of Wild Roots/Feral
Futures 2010
The Wild Roots/Feral Futures gathering took place nestled in the rugged
San Juan National Forest of southwestern Colorado, stretching from the
first quarter moon on Saturday, June 19th, through the Summer Solstice on
the 21st, to the full moon on Saturday the 26th, although many camped out
days prior and stayed past the “official” end of the gathering. Billed as
“a rewilding gathering of rebel tribes and Earth warriors”, Feral Futures
essentially an opportunity to unplug from the consumerist, urban milieu in
which most of us live and struggle from day to day, and instead visualize
and practice living in communal simplicity, freed from Civilization's
technology and social hierarchy and in connection with the rhythms of
Nature.
After driving or walking the long, winding red dirt road up the Piedra
River Valley, the first sign of the gathering is the upper meadow with its
parking spaces and the Welcome Tent, where the volunteer detail greet
visitors with the ol' Red-and-Black and Skull-and-Crossbones, stacks of
zines and other literature held down by rocks (always in natural
abundance), and suggestions on where to put down supplies. In most cases,
this means taking a long hike downhill from the parking pasture, past
meadows and the deer skeleton hung on a tree and through a series of
zigzagging switchbacks, until you reached the sprawling river clearing
below. Here amidst the green grass and the towering pines sprawls the
entire camp: a fire circle, multiple tents, the “homeless shelter” built
of logs, tarps, and pine needle insulation, even a massage table and cache
of art supplies, as well as the obligatory shitter trench dug out at the
treeline. Unlike your typical weekend car camping site, this is clearly a
space that had been occupied, however temporarily, by a community of
people determined to live in sharing with one another.
Approaching the fire, one hears a discussion of the recent goat slaughter,
of whether or not it was natural, ethical, and compassionate to bring an
animal raised on a farm to an unfamiliar environment by truck, kill it
under the intent gaze of several onlookers, yet thereby expose many who
may have never seen meat and blood aside from a shrink-wrapped grocery
store package to the reality of life and death. Meanwhile, several hundred
yards upstream at “carnivore camp”, nonchalant meat-eaters share in the
rambunctious pleasures of stretching the hide and eating “Rocky Mountain
oysters”, bonafide goat testicles hot off the fire griddle.
Throughout the week you could partake in various workshops, freely offered
and freely attended. There were opportunities to learn about bowdrilling
to start a fire, tying knots to climb and defend trees, get tattoos,
participate in the trading blanket (which inspired its own discussions on
the comparative merits of gift, barter, and market economics), learn how
to defend oneself from the cops using the Russian martial arts discipline,
Systema, how to run an underground newspaper like the scrappy Red Pill
Journal out of Grand Junction, and many other skills besides. One of the
more compelling workshops was on establishing Rites of Passage for the
nascent anarchist/primitivist community, filling the vacuum filled by
consumerist society's suppression of traditional cutlures while avoiding
the co-option of indigenous practices and ways. This sparked a
conversation on how adolescents in the “mainstream” find their own “Rites
of Passages” through sex, drugs, and alcohol; how anarchists may often
replace those with mosh pits, solos in the woods, ideological awakening
and forming a countercultural community; and whether there really even is
such a community, and how well-rooted and long-lasting it might be. It
would seem these are some of the biggest questions facing us in making the
anti-authoritarian, pro-autonomy movement cohesive, meaningful, and
effective over the long term.
Besides mutual education were many joys and pleasures of living in
non-hierarchical community: volunteering to help cook or gather and split
firewood; sharing meals, literature, and basic tools; singing along with
the banjo to old folk and hobo standbys like “Rattlin' Bog” and “The Big
Rock Candy Mountain”; dancing and drumming in campfire celebration of the
Solstice. And magical moments, too, especially under the beautiful,
bewitching wax of the moon: the crystal river shimmering over rocks in the
streambed, pine trees somehow towering even taller and more majestic over
the meadows under the gentle gaze of Luna, of Diana.
Feral Futures was not for everyone; unfortunately, at least one person had
to be taken back to “Civilization”, to leave a situation which was clearly
outside their comfort zone. This was a reminder of how deeply embedded we
can become in the cheap conveniences and false securities of mainstream
society, and of how truly unplugging oneself from the dominant order,
whether from its grocery stores or its electronic gadgets, its hospitals
or its police, takes practice, time, the acquisition of skills for
interdependent self-sufficiency and real, conscious patience and intent.
Other challenges also arose. Having sufficient clean water was an issue,
as no one volunteered to bring in the hoped-for water tanks, although a
combination of boiling and bleaching largely solved this problem, and
could be greatly alleviated with the greater presence of personal water
filtration systems. There were occasional tense dynamics between different
subgroups, highlighting the need to pursue and discuss mutual
understanding and respect. At one point, concerns about a prescribed
forest burn possibly getting out of hand were addressed by directly
calling the US Forest Service. There were even some who participated yet
expressed dissatisfaction or doubts about the real commitment to
“primitivism”, as campers relied almost entirely on store-bought foods,
soaps, and hand sanitizers. Despite any of these particular issues,
though, everyone got along fairly well, and most seemed to enjoy their
time in the woods.
The premise of primitivism and anti-civ/post-civ, the call to “visualize
vast wilderness” and “actualize industrial collapse”, is interesting, and
sure to lead debates as elsewhere in the anti-authoritarian movement, as
in markets vs. communes, or insurrection vs. gradual institution-building;
and total anti-civ primitivism may (or may not) be more than even many
anarchists would pursue. Yet with the camaraderie of hiking to volunteer
for the security/welcome watch, or sharing in good conversation, song, and
cooking around the campfire, it is easy to see, and to feel, the appeal of
being in a tribe, far away from the monotony of Mallworld, the everyday
life of alienated work and consumption, and attending much closer to the
call of the Wild.
Written by Sean Sanford, Denver
Thanks to the many organizers and participants of Wild Roots, Feral
Futures 2010!