November 8, 2012

The “Futurists Now” Manifesto

We sit, staring at the glistening, bright, pages of the electronic God before us, while colors of blue and red dance across the displays and fill our cold hearts with the warmth of knowledge and power. The quick clacking of the black lacquer buttons, growing agitated under their overuse, plays a symphony of insanely stunning destruction.

The pride swells deep in our bellies and outstretches to our pre-arthritic fingers and our un-exercised toes, with the understanding that our plan to reset the world on the right path has finally been set in motion. The one, lone, fluorescent star overhead reverberates with a pulsing throb, applauding the crescendo of our symphony- the climax of our lives.

Red, green, blue, then black, and we know our pre-birth of war is slowly coming to an end. The white noise stops, yet still the star of artificial light continues to pulse above us. We hold our breath in excitement, as would a child on the abysmal and avaricious holidays of the categorically free world.

“Take stations!” I said, realizing the signaling end; preparing my brothers for the inevitable next step.

I see what seems to be hundreds of digits, hovering over their keys, waiting to access the portals underneath them- the portals towards the future. My brother next to me glances towards my ambivalent expression with a look of wild reverence, filling me with pride.

Carefully lifting my arm to the sky, I see the watches of my people, glowering intently upon the limb of fate for the gesticulation of action.

Red, green, blue, then black, and finally the signal we have all been waiting for.

I thrust my arm down and instantly the opus of clicking kindles in our intellects, nimbly running over the board of our fate. It is what we have primed for- what we have trained for since our singular cell state in our mother’s womb.

We type on and learn things of our enemies, things that would send them to the dungeons and sling them in the juries.

We see things.

Their private and most cherished confidences dance before us like a movie that we fashioned.

Their lives of legitimization are thriving before us, then wiped in the next moment. They have been eradicated from the expression of the earth, as they have warranted being. Those independence combatants, filled with aged tendencies and classical adorations. They have held the world back from its potential: A potential to thrive and kill, to move and speed.

“Stay resilient my brothers and fight the war you have fashioned!” I yell, inspired by the works that dance out before us.

The face of time ticks on, as our work grows emaciated. The small hand caressing the largest number and the world tells us what we have done was good and needed. We are the saviors of this life and the beacons of hope radiating from our terminals!

A mere thrust of the connective life-force from the wall and our work stops in instantaneous glory. O mighty victory! O evil forces we have wretched from the precipices of society! You are no longer relevant nor do you exist. You are souls and ghost from the era that you worshipped.

My brothers before me hurdle and shriek with ultimate triumph and pleasure, thrusting the hands that eliminated an entire race in a joyous reverie.

I stand amongst my people and see what we have done, the success we have garnered. Then, with my hands, cramped from the hours of work, and my eyes, handicapped by the years of viewing the luminous display, amidst the smell of pure men and agitated masterminds, “we dictated our first will and testament to all the living men on earth” (Marinetti).


1. We revel in distress and live for danger and death. #YOLO

2. Our cause is incomplete without mass turmoil. Raise hell! #CHAOS

3. We exalt speed for its beauty and efficiency. The transportation from one terminal to the next, spreading with the quickness of fire and fuel. #SPEED

4. Our struggle is beauty; our ardor is the new high culture. #PASSION

5. We thrive in the current history of tomorrow. #FUTURE

6. Our creed deplores the inhabitant minorities, the woman and the child. We will right the thoughts of braless primitives and the degraded principality of the streets.  #CLEANSE

7. We will rinse the rivers of the past, mutilating the establishment(s) that teach us to revel in the histories of before. #ANARCHY

8. Our mission is to demolish the money-hungry populace of the “free world;” the equal-minded fools that run the nation. #SUPPRESS

9. We bask in the glory of revolution and the willingness to fight authority. #FERVOR

10. Our hands will hold the ruins of the old, our fists thrusting in the air with triumph. We will hymn the glory of the vehicles of the sky, the cold pawing tracks of the ground, the hollow torpedo of the sea, the ultrasonic ship of outer space, and the unbridled beauty of the outsourced labor that manufactures our ability to have the world at our fingertips. #INNOVATION

11. We will rejoice in the invention of communication, the wireless transportation of our minds. We will hold in our hands all the possibilities and capabilities to overrule the luminescent pages of the online world. The future only lives once. #FOLO

We broadcast to you from the underbelly of the center of our world; from the Tokyo basement of our foreign allies. Tokyo! The most forward thinking of the planet, boasting the most incendiary machines with transportation of the body and mind!

We broadcast from across the biosphere to you, New York, our home that is begging for an enlightened change.

You boast of the pasts’ marriage with the future, but what you say and feel is blasphemy! You dwell on your foundation, your desire to stay a landmark in the creation of the nation! You let houses of history and common politics rest calmly on your soil, revered by all who traipse into them after you charge them of their hard earned coinage, of course.

You, once great city, are dwindling and emaciating under the halls of death that you relish; the halls that hold no hope for technological advancement of the future!

You must change to fit the ideals we believe! “Our primitivism is the extreme climax of complexity, whereas the primitivism of antiquity is the babbling of simplicity.” (Boccioni)

The illustrious manuscripts lay in their chambered mausoleum, while tourists celebrate their beauty with fondling and flowers, incessantly devouring their stories of the old world! The art of the masters, dribbled across the velveteen walls, buried under the coiffured ceilings that once decorated long forgotten palaces. The marble halls, filled with the waving hands of the sycophantic legislators, embezzling the power and prowess of the people.

But where is the beauty of the technological God? Why is He not exalted in favor over the past? Why is the speed of our transportation merely overlooked and used without complete exaltation?!

Oh! Just look at what you have become!

We will tear down these walls and ignite the history of Pangaea in a greedy flame! We will destroy the criminals of authority and national security, hacking into their souls and revealing them for what they truly are: cowards and equality mongers!

New York you have been “wearing second hand clothes for too long! (Marinetti)” We will liberate you through the power of uprising and war! We will reinvent life.

We are the youth of you, the dwellers of the darkest room in the house, waited on by those who birthed us and whose rights are less than ours. We come together with our beacons of artificial light and set terror to the world so rooted in the histories of the past.

We will be among you for quite some time, yet you will never know our faces or our physicality.  We dwell in anonymity and truth! Fighting for our cause is in our blood and we are a “significant system of a broader, deeper state of mind”(Rupkatha, 141). We are the neo-avant-garde generation and we are here to stay!

Our passion is endless as our vigilance is undying! We shall compete with the social movements of yesterday and the vagina dentata of the world, but we shall overrule, and you will watch us rise in victory to make the world what it was destined to be!

Therefore it is now that we share with you, disciple lambs of our guerilla tactics, our manifesto! The manifesto of the Futurists Now movement.

Read our words as they are painted in our blog, our mechanical Bible of the righteous people.

We stand on the precipice of success so join us or fall in line with the others of the automaton herd.



November 7, 2012

“ … art can only be violence, cruelty, injustice. ”

Filippo Marinetti, The Founding and Manifesto of Futurism

November 7, 2012   35 notes


The progression of Umberto’s style can be seen quite clearly from these two paintings he did of his mother, the first one from 1909 and the second 1912, also called Materia

November 7, 2012   3 notes

The Laugh
Umberto Boccioni (1911)


The Laugh

Umberto Boccioni (1911)

(via notyetanarchitect)

November 7, 2012   14 notes


Umberto Boccioni - Unique Forms in Continuity of Space

(Source: deepslow)

November 7, 2012   6 notes

(Source: deepslow)

November 7, 2012   3 notes

“The City Rises” Umberto Boccioni, 1911


“The City Rises” Umberto Boccioni, 1911

November 7, 2012   2 notes

Gino Severini,Bailarina Azul


Gino Severini,Bailarina Azul

(Source: rubidius)

November 7, 2012   7 notes

(Source: james0dene)

November 7, 2012   2 notes


Two of Gino Severini’s more famous works, War and Armored Train.

(via thesalorepublic-deactivated2014)