Recipes for Disaster: an anarchist cookbook

ine the evening news trying to play that off as liberal disapproval! Even then, there's something to be said for destroying effigies that represent destructive concepts or forces rather than living, breathing individuals: this isn't a war of some people against others, like the wars of capitalism and hierarchy, but a war of all against war itself Indeed, what does it mean to bum an American flag? This is simply burning in effigy a hypocritical value system and genocidal legacy.

When it comes to making effigies, anything goes, so long as the product is recognizable and will be destroyed by or survive your planned activities as you intend. Costume stores may have masks of your favorite subjects ready-made for you, especially around Halloween. Paper mache is especially good for pinatas. You can make it by heating three parts water and two parts cornstarch until it becomes thick; let it cool a bit, and apply it to newspaper to make it stick together. Stretch the wet newspaper over a wire frame, let it dry, and repeat, until the layers are durable but not impervious to a few powerful direct hits; now you can paint it. If you are indeed making a pinata, fill it with goodies through a hole you leave for last. You can also make piiiatas out of painted cardboard boxes, in a pinch.

How We Made Our Puppet President

Effigies

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We stole the rubbery, full-head mask from a corporate store. The body was double-layered cardboard with tons of industrial staples and construction adhesive. This rigid un-derstructure was wrapped in lots of soft foam rubber like that found in cheap sofas. The head was the same foam rubber, sculpted into the appropriate shape and "upholstered" vidth a tightly fitting double layer of cloth. The head was made large enough that it had to be squeezed into the mask. This helped the mask stay on, sort of. The extra cloth of the neck was stapled and glued to the torso. The legs were stuffed tubes of cloth with thin pieces of wood built into them like bones so they would bend at the knees. There was no such bone structure in the upper arms. The lower arms were made of long poles; at one

end there were homemade red cloth boxing gloves stuffed with foam, while at the other end of the arms wood stuck through the elbows of the shirt and suit to about three feet of extra length?these enabled a puppeteer behind the effigy to operate the boxing arms. Because our dummy had no hips, the shirt and pants of his dumpstered dress suit were sewn together at the waist?this is highly recommended for the brawling effigy. The whole thing hung from a pole on a thin rope; one person carried the pole, suspending the marionette in the air, while another stood behind it, operating the arms. When the pigs seized the pole from us at one demonstration, we were able to go on operating him for hours, the former pole bearer now holding the dummy aloft by means of the rope alone?and nursing sore hands for some time after!

"Fuck you George?this one's for my brother!" The war cry came from a stocky gentleman in a leprechaun suit whose uplifted elbow was headed straight for the President's eye. Bush and the leprechaun toppled over into a messy heap on the asphalt. We helped the two of them up and the leprechaun stumbled away. I had just barely gotten the commander in chief of the US military dusted off when another blow, this time a crushing uppercut, came out of nowhere and sent the President's rubber face sailing out over the crowd. The megaphone squealed and H?-'s voice boomed out "Ooooooooo, that one had to hurt, ladies and gentlemen! Now whooooo's next?" Meanwhile, B?- had run off into a little duster of sumo wrestlers to fetch the weary face of the 43'^ president of the United States of America. It was the fight of the decade!

Ringside seats to political theater aren't exactly in high demand among the general public. But as luck would have it, downtown Chapel Hill's famous Halloween crowds handled all the logistics for us. Voila, 75,000 people ready for a wild night. And hell, we've all been to enough of these things to know how predictable they really are: way too many cross-dressing frat boys. Supermen by the dozen, fairies, fairies, fairies, and that

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Effigies

guy who just runs around screaming, "Wooooo!" The scene was set for something? anything?to go down.