A few introductory words: I intend to do a writeup on
Bob Black, but for the moment haven’t been able to find enough biographical information about him to do so (any suggestions welcome). What I do know about him is that he is an
anarchist writer who in
1977 began a poster project under the name “The Last International”; I’ve typed in the text of my favourite of this poster series here. Black is probably best-known for writing a pamphlet called
The Abolition of Work. None of Bob Black’s writings are copyrighted, and he invites copying in any form, “as long as you spell my name right.” Also note that he retains the same P.O.Box and welcomes correspondence. “I will answer all interesting mail, and most of the rest.”
THE LAST INTERNATIONAL
P.O.Box 3142
Albany, NY 12203-0142
1
Groucho
Marxism, the theory of comedic
revolution, is much more than a blueprint for crass struggle: like a red light in a window, it illuminates humanity’s inevitable destiny, the
déclassé society. G-Marxism is the theory of
permanent revelry. (Down boy! There, that’s a good dogma.)
2
The example of
the Marx Brothers themselves shows the unity of Marxist
theory and practice (for instance, when Groucho insults somebody while Harpo picks his pocket). Moreover, Marxism is
dialectical (isn’t Chico the classic dialect comedian?). Comedians who fail to synthesize theory and practice (to say nothing of those who fail to sin at all) are un-Marxist. Subsequent comedians, failing to grasp that separation is “the discrete charm of the bourgeoisie,” have lapsed into mere pratfalls on the one hand, and mere prattle on the other.
3
Because G-Marxism is practical, its achievements can never be reduced to mere
humor,
entertainment, or even “
art.” (The aesthetes, after all, are less interested in the appreciation of art than in art that appreciates.) After a genuine Marxist sees a Marx Brothers movie, he tells himself, “If you think that was funny, take a look at your life!”
4
Contemporary G-Marxists must resolutely denounce the imitative, vulgar “Marxism” of
The Three Stooges,
Monty Python, and
Bugs Bunny. Instead of vulgar Marxism, we must return to authentic
Marxist vulgarity. Rectumification is likewise in order for those deluded comrades who think “the correct line” is what the cop makes them walk when he pulls them over.
5
Class-conscious Marxists (that is, Marxists who are conscious that they have no class) must spurn the anemic, trendy, narcisstic “comedy” of comedic revisionists like
Woody Allen and
Jules Feiffer. Already the comedic revolution has superseded mere
neurosis—it’s ludic but not ludicrous, discriminating but not discriminatory, militant but not military, and adventurous but not adventurist. Marxists realize that today you have to look into a funhouse mirror to see the way.
6
Although not entirely lacking in glimmers of Marxist insight,
socialist (sur)realism must be distinguished from G-Marxism. It is true that
Salvador Dali once gave Harpo a harp made out of barbed wire; however there is no evidence that Harpo ever played it.
7
Above all, it is essential to renounce and revile all comedic sectarianism such as that of the equine Trots. As is well known, Groucho repeatedly proposed sex but opposed sects. For Groucho, then, there was a difference between being a Trot and being hot to trot. Further, the Trot slogan “Wages for Horsework” smacks of reform, not revelry. Trot efforts to claim
A Day at the Races and
Horsefeathers for their tendency must be indignantly rejected: in truth,
National Velvet is more their speed.
8
The burning issue confronting G-Marxists today is
the party question, which—naïve, reductionist “Marxists” to the contrary—is more than just “Why wasn’t I invited?” That never stopped Groucho! Marxists need their own disciplined vanguard party, since they’re rarely welcome at anybody else’s.
9
Guided by the Marxist dogmas of
misbehaviorism and
hysterical materialism, inevitably the masses will embrace not only G-Marxism, but also each other.
10
Groucho Marxism, then, is the
tour de farce of comedy. As Harpo is reliably reported to have said:
In other words, comedy is riotous or it is nothing! So much to do, so many to do it! On your Marx, get set—go!
BORED AGAIN? Why not rattle your cage? I propose a dialog of the disaffected, a conspiracy of the equals, a politics of pleasure. Ours is the anomic power of negative thinking and corrosive laughter. The unruly amongst the institutionalised have only themselves—and possibly each other. Let’s confer. The choice is sedition or sedation. Any number can play.