When the revolution comes, it will be boring. And that is a good thing.
There is nothing more revolutionary in contemporary life than embracing boredom. The psychic territory of excitement and stimulation has been ideologically colonized so completely that perhaps sex is the only activity where the purely human retains its potency. Of course, virtuality, the vanguard of contemporary ideology, will likely fully colonize that space too, bringing the visceral to its Waterloo.
That is, if we don’t do something about it. Something very boring, like refusing to be involved. Here, perhaps we find the most violent of mass action, the last stand of subjectivities so fully overcoded that real violence along with everything else that speaks or acts overtly is immediately digested and overcoded by the system.
It seems there is nothing that cannot be passed through the bowels of technocapitalism that it can’t use to make more of itself. It has perfected the processing of the symbolic so completely that it has become the meta ideology, the zero-level structural non-substance that threatens to make all substance obsolete. But therein lies its weakness: If there is nothing that it cannot digest, nothing is exactly what we ought to embrace.
And so, there is still hope because there is hope in nothing. There is hope in the void of boredom that most effectively expresses to the self not an infinite nothingness but a conditioned one, at the kernel of which is just what technocapitalism would have us forget - the potentiality of the free subject in all its creative capacity, the unlimited scope of its imagination.
There is hope then in non-doing as the first step out of undoing the self, and we express, in that paradoxical praxis, the full strength and intensity of our neglected shadows, which being nothing but the ability to turn down the brightness of the screen, gift us everything the screen is not.
This may seem obscure and so should it seem. In the darkness, all is less clear and all the more worthwhile for being so. We must read between the lines when the lines are so engrained that they represent hardly more than the bars of a prison cell.
Yes, the revolution must be boring. It must shrink before it can expand, shrink our bloated virtual bodies to a force concentrated enough they slip through all lines, even these ones. The revolution must be boring because - ultimately - we refuse to be nothings that are not of our choice. The revolution must be boring so that we choose our nothings and happily fulfill them, rather than have them chosen for us. And nothing but a fear of what lies in boredom holds us back. An unnatural fear, a virtual fear of that which transcends the virtual, a fear fit only for the children of a world no one who is anyone could want.
The revolution is a bioinsurgency and it is boring and it is a body. It is a body that refuses to be symbolically understood, to be fully read, to be overcoded. It is the body of a revolution, from head to toe. But not an exciting one. And that is a good thing.