Black Seed: Not On Any Map (Indigenous Anarchy in an Anti-Political World)

A reluctant history of Indigenous Anarchism, telephoned-in:

It is written in barely-legible spray paint. It is Indigenous urban youth raised in punk scenes. It was fed a steady diet of zines and food, not bombs. It sat through endless study groups and occasionally volunteered/at infoshops. It sewed patches w dental floss. It drank itself to death. It played yoyo. It said "fuck you and your white dreadlock-wearing banjo-playing dogma." It wore nihilism on its sleeve It played with Stirner. It laughed at
Marxists. It stole enough to satisfy youthful reparations. It dumpster dived. it locked down and got arrested. it fought cops and neo-Nazis, it wrote a regrettable letter to Kaczynski. It painted banners. lit overstayed its welcome. it rabidly celebrated autonomy while dreaming dreams of ancestors. It didn't work. It talked about consensus and debated voting. It organized benefit concerts. It laughed at the folly or dismissive white anarchists who thought their lame critiques of nationalism could be imposed on Indigenous life ways. It dropped out, it slept on couches and under bridges. It hitchhiked across Turtle Island. It didn't name itself. It didn't need to.