Anarchist Dialectic

A dialectic must exist that does not depend on or function thru direct interaction of problem/solution or offer any synthesis or derivation of the problem. A true anarchistic dialectic must, by its very nature, ignore or render invalid the position proposed thru absolute inaction and disregard of it. No reason, no argument, no thesis/antithesis/synthesis...just a turning of the mind away from the proposition, regarding all such theories as equally valid/invalid simultaneously. There is no truth, only a collective agreement as to what should represent truth in any given social construct. All is truth. None is truth. Both equally true. Both equally false.

Emerging Clarity and Purpose

All of us are drawn inescapable to the moment of our own physical deaths, by virtue of our incarnation in the physical world. A world of chaos. A world of decay. A world of dust.
The urge to destroy, the urge to self destruct; both are primal aspects of an internal, preprogrammed inclination toward change inherent to the organism and its fundamental purpose. They are archetypal manifestations of the will, the unstoppable primal drive, to change both environment and organism in the face of social and spiritual stimuli hostile to the very essence of life and the evolution of soul energy.
A dustmaker, then, is a justifying element that lies dormant within a societal framework until it is called forth to balance the equation and bring about change conducive to continued human existence. A dustmaker clears the fields of old, constricting growth in preparation for the seeds of spring, destroying outdated, destructive memes, theories, attitudes, ideas, systems, ideologies, theologies and structures that clog the wells of human potential and lead to spiritual stagnation.
We are the fire that purifies. We are the wind that sifts. We are your neighbors, your friends, your coworkers. We look like you. We sit next to you in churches, temples and synagogues. We are, in many aspects, indistinguishable from you in every way. No sign or symbol heralds our arrival. No external identification of affiliation adorns head or heart. Our souls boil within us as we observe offense after offense hurled toward our personal sovereignty, as we see our fellow humans race about with lifeless eyes, psychotically consuming everything imaginable.
Our time is here. Our internal processes call us to action. We realize, maybe for the first time, the stirring of something deeper. We are here for something significant. We were created for a purpose. We reach for that which was forced, by convention, to abandonment in a system that has no place for anything but another useless eater.
Our sense of self. Our sense of purpose. Our calling. It is manifesting in the face of tightening restriction and stifling control. We feel, again as when children, a sense of
connectedness and almost gleeful anticipation, a surety of heart and mind that we, as agents of change, are here for more than this. Much more. This is our time. This is our role. We are makers of dust.