Recipes for Disaster: an anarchist cookbook

I was handed a mysterious folded up sheet of paper at a Rah Bras show, and instructed not to open it until I was alone. It turned out to be an invitation to come in disguise to an appointed place at an appointed date and time, and to tell no one of the invitation. When I got there, wrapped in scarves on a murderously hot North Carolina evening, I was blindfolded and led into a darkened room, where I was placed kneeling on the floor. I could feel other people around me, could hear them breathing, shifting their weight, but we had been instructed not to speak. Eventually, after listening to others being led into the room, I heard the door dose and silence descended. The sound of running water began, and then 1 could hear someone playing a saw It was soothing and eerie. This quiet was harshly interrupted by flashing lights, startlingly bright through the blindfold, and loud noises, and the smeU of burning. A woman (the same friend who had given me the invitation) talked about how contexts shape human interactions, and suggested that by placing people in unexpected and unusual contexts we can break down some of the barriers between us, "break the silence of isolation." She paused. "There's tea and coflee in the other room." We remove our blindfolds, and for a second I don't recognize anyone through their disguises. Then identities begin to come into focus: some women I know, including my three housemates, some women I recognize but have never met, and some women that are complete strangers to me. In the kitchen, over tea and coffee, the woman responsible for all of this revealed that she wanted to do it because she felt there were so many amazing women in tovtm, but no real network of female friendships. We agreed to try to reinforce our vague acquaintances and other associations with powerful bonding and energizing fun, and decided that our first activity would be a massive game of Assassin, carried out over the next couple of weeks, in which we were aU assigned victims and tried to avoid getting "killed" ourselves. My housemates and I endured a series of threatening phone calls and letters (cut out of magazines, naturally), a doll tattooed to match one of us and hanged in a tree outside our door, and nerve-rack-

ing trips to the grocery store. I managed to kill off two people, but one got me at the final showdown, in the club where we'd agreed to meet for another show to find out who'd survived to the last.

In the end, nothing more came of that party. We never got together again. Chapel Hill/Carrboro's female population is perhaps even more loosely connected now than it was then. We were busy, active women, and we didn't follow through on the initiative our friend had shown. But I still think it's a fantastic idea, even if none of us ever makes it work perfectly.

Parties 407

Pie Throwing

Ingredients Deserving target

Crazed, pie-slinging assailant(s)

Pie ? see below for recipe and packaging options, and factors to consider in choosim

Optional Ingredients' Diversions Witnesses Photographers

Scouts Getaway Driver

Instructions Pidng, like property destruction, demystifies and undermines the power structures of

our society by shovning that icons and idols are not unassailable or above ridicule. It's like burning someone in efEgy, only better, because it reveals how, in this media-addled society, pubHc figureheads are nothing more than effigies of themselves, ripe for the roasting.

Choose a worthy target. It could be a speciahst, CEO, or head of state?pie terrorists have already hit all of these on various occasions to great effect?or a less obvious quarry who nonetheless represents social forces imbued with a seriousness that must be undercut. Hitting a reporter during a live media event, for example, could send an 408 important message.

First Things First . .

The other question is when and where. Striking while your target is onstage giving a speech delivers the maximum shock and awe; on the other hand, it also involves the maximum danger of being caught, so if you're not eager to go to court and perhaps jail, you could try striking somewhere between the chaufFeured car and the red-carpeted doorway and then making a break for it. Be on the lookout for perfect opportunities; don't force things, they'll present themselves sooner or later. As you balance risk versus audience and humiliation potential, factor in local legal precedents, the prevailing political climate, and the competence of your lawyer. Don't expect justice, but don't let the police state keep you down.