An anarchist journal of heresy and thoughtcrime

by Crow Qu’appelle

It has now been more than one year since the publication of the first issue of Nevermore, and it seems like a good time to stop and reflect upon about the purpose of this project.

I was the one who founded this project, and I have been the one steering it since the beginning. Up to this point, I have done my best to provide sober political analysis in order to help understand the very confusing times that we are living in. It is very strange for me to assume the role of the most reasonable person in the room, because the truth is that I am a freaky bohemian weirdo. There are many people who are more level-headed and objective than I am.

I’ve thought a lot about how best I can contribute to the movement opposing the rising authoritarianism ushered in by the COVID coup. I’ve poured a ton of energy into Nevermore. I’ve had to learn a lot of skills that I have no gift for, such as website administration. I even started using social media, which I have avoided like the plague for most of my life.

About a month ago, I hit a wall and found myself fantasizing about abandoning the project altogether. I guess I bit off more than I could chew. The plan was to translate Paul Cudenec’s masterpiece Fascism Rebranded into French and Spanish, release it serially on the Nevermore blog as well as on Substack in those three languages, whilst simultaneously promote them on three different Twitter accounts and three different Telegram channels. But that wasn’t all.

The plan was also to format each essay into a ready-to-print zine and host them online (like the Yggdrasil Zine Library), allowing people in different parts of the world to handle distribution. Next, the plan was to produce audio recordings of the different pieces and release them as podcasts (like Resonance Audio-Distro), as well as uploading them to video-streaming platforms with accompanying visuals (like Academy of Ideas). Lastly, the plan was to publish physical books and go on a book tour. This was the part that I was looking forward to.

There are 18 essays in Fascism Rebranded, meaning that my project involved 54 blog posts, 54 zines, 54 audio recordings, building up a social media presence in three different languages, publishing three different books, somehow paying for all of this, setting up distribution, booking speaking events and so on. Clearly, I can’t do this on my own. I asked other people to help, and some people stepped up to the plate, but I have no talent for managing people.

Then, I hit a wall, and all the wind went out of my sails. I got depressed and lay in my room doom-scrolling, feeling like a rat hitting a lever for a hit of cocaine. Fuck this Babylon tech, I thought, why the fuck am I doing this?

Is what I’m doing really accomplishing anything? What’s the point of all this? If people haven’t figured out the COVID scam by now, it’s because they have chosen to live in denial. Such people cannot be persuaded by rational argument, and will come to their senses only when they are ready to.

And it’s been clear to me for a long time that a huge part of the problem is technological addiction. Would this whole COVID scam have been possible if not for rampant addiction to brain-altering digital devices? And if I am using digital technology to rail against digital technology, what does that make me?

I want to live my life in a way that is congruent with my beliefs. Simply put, I am a neo-Luddite. Yet over the course of the past year, I’ve spent vast amounts online, absorbed in the Spectacle of the digital world. It’s been rewarding, and I don’t regret it, but I can’t shake the feeling that my time would be better spent interacting with flesh-and-blood people in the real world.

For that reason, I recently decided to try an experiment. Leaving my phone and laptop behind, I embarked on a three-week motorcycle trip through the Lacandon jungle, with a plan to keep a journal and readjust my brain waves to their natural rhythm. Soon, I was having the most amazing adventure of my life, and upon my return I knew what I must do.

“Do or do not do,” said Yoda, “there is no try.” I’ve been trying too long, and the time has come for me to shit or get off the pot. I’ve made my decision: I’m getting off the pot. To those disappointed by this news, I’m sorry. I tried. I always knew that I was unqualified to manage this project long-term. Nevertheless, I saw that someone needed to do something, so I did what I could to provide the spark.

I’m pleased to have played some role in bringing people together under the banner of Nevermore, and I consider it an honour that such a talented group of authors have contributed to making it what it is. I hope that it has served its purpose, and has helped some of free-thinking people feel like they are not alone. The truth is that that there are many of us spread out throughout the world. This project has definitely helped me to feel more sane, and I have certainly deepened my understanding of the forces shaping our world. Now, I feel that I’ve done my part, and I’m ready to hand the project over to someone more capable to administer it. If it is meant to be, Nevermore will become an editorial collective influencing the development of the new political movement now emerging. Or perhaps it will remain obscure. Either way, the movement will continue to evolve.

Just so I’m clear: I’m not giving up. I’m still going to write for Nevermore. I will still contribute energy in various ways. But in the coming weeks and months, I will shift my focus to writing about my own travels, as well as my new-found passion for archaeology. I will not be entirely incommunicado, but I will greatly reduce my consumption of digital media.

It remains to be seen whether or not Nevermore has matured to the point where it is ready to take on a life of its own, but I am optimistic that enough people share my vision that the project will keep rolling. Personally, what I would love to see is everyone combining their efforts and thinking of themselves more as a team working towards the same goal.

A wise man once said: “Look at the geese,” he said. “They fly in a V, and the one up front makes everything easier for those behind. But when the lead goose gets tired, he drops back and another goose takes its place. When that one gets tired, another takes its turn.”

This is what I’m hoping for. I very much believe that Nevermore fills an important niche in the digital agora, and I know others feel the same. Thank you to everyone who has helped make this project successful; you have helped me to maintain my faith in humanity. It’s an honour to work with such a brilliant group of people, and I thank you all for the confidence that you have had in me.

So far as the Great Reset goes, we now seem to be in somewhat of a lull. I encourage people to enjoy the Summer, because none of us knows how much time we’ve got before the next crisis hits.

I still believe that there is nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come. Over the course of the past year, I’ve seen more and more people become receptive to the message that we have been advancing. Will we soon reach the inflection point at which the masses realize the extent to which they have been deceived? Maybe or maybe not, but I think that we should prepare for that possibility.

When the Great Reset fails, there will be a great moment of opportunity to present a revolutionary vision that might just strike a chord with the masses. Revolutions don’t just happen when people are oppressed. They happen when the system is in crisis, often resulting from economic factors resulting from the decadence and depravity of the ruling class. If the U.S. dollar collapses, as many are predicting, a perfect storm will be upon us. And with crisis comes opportunity.

I think that one of the best things that we can do is to reflect deeply upon what our core values are, and to express them, to flesh out this emerging ideological tendency, which some of us have called anarcho-perennialism.

People need something to believe in something, and if people lose faith in the system, they will need to form a new belief system. This is our moment of possibility, the time where adherents to the cult of statism might at last pierce the veil of deception that stands between them and their freedom.

The last thing that I’d say is that we always must keep our eyes on the prize. We want freedom, because we want a more joyful world. Our first responsibility as revolutionaries is to then to seek to live the most joyous lives that we can. How do we communicate this message? Is it through meticulous logic, or is art a better tool? Is our goal to inform, or to inspire?

If it is to inform, what demographic are we trying to reach? What form of media is best-suited to our target audience? If it is inspire, what do we want to inspire others to do? And most importantly, are we doing that thing ourselves?

From the bottom of my heart, I thank everyone who has supported me in this endeavour. May good things come to all those of you who thirst for peace, justice, and freedom.

For the wild,

Crow Qu’appelle