Test Dept soundtrack collaboration with Democracia.

If you are against work, join Democracia on May 1st at Esplanade Solvay, Charleroi Metropole Campus, Charleroi (Belgium), at 12:00 PM

This action is in collaboration with Test Dept. Participation is free.

https://www.democracia.com.es/

https://a-political.org/other/us-or-chaos/

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1209979887167575?locale=en_GB

https://www.threads.com/@apoliticalorg?xmt=AQGzTDnn4Atb5toIDfez5KWDmCblr...

WORK
Work is the negation of life itself.
We have been convinced that sweating for a wage is our destiny, but we say: Down with work, let people stop selling their days and take back the time to dream, to love and to destroy.
Working time absorbs most of life.
Time that is paid for can never be recovered.
Every hour in the factory, every minute in the office,
Every second sold is a piece of us lost forever.
Every factory that smokes, every office that hums, is a monument to our defeat.
They say that without work there is no life, but work is the death of the spirit. Work robs us of life and they call it duty.
Work is an artificial necessity imposed by the powers that be. Why accept it? Wage labour is modern slavery.
Compulsory work is the basis of all oppression.
Work is a condemnation that we accept out of fear.
Work is a crime against humanity, a sentence that condemns us to monotony while a few bask in luxury.
We are not born to be cogs in their system, we are not tools, we are not numbers. Work reduces us to shadows of what we could be.
There is no honour in this, there is no freedom, labour is the source of almost all the misery in the world. Work does not ennoble man, it degrades him.
We don't want to work to build your war machines or your golden cages, the only worthy effort is that which tears down your offices and factories.
Work is a barbaric superstition, machines already produce enough for everyone but we are kept in chains.
Let us think of our stolen lives.
We don't need more promises of better wages or less hours; we need total freedom.
We don't want reforms, we don't want crumbs: work must be destroyed, not improved, because life begins when work ends.
Imagine a world without bosses, without morning alarms, without the humiliation of selling our time. Imagine a world where no one has to bow to an overseer, where the day is ours to enjoy, not to endure.
The abolition of work will be the true emancipation of the proletariat.

We want a world where play replaces work. We are not born to sweat under the yoke of wages, but to dance in the freedom of our dreams. But don't dream alone, wake up and fight; the revolution is not to work better, but not to work any more.
We refuse to work, we choose to live.
Brothers, sisters, time is our right, not your property.
Freedom is not negotiated with overtime.
Let us stop building their empires and start tearing them down. The only dignified future is the one that buries work forever
Let the echo of our words shake the foundations of this rotten world. No more excuses, no delays: Work is the enemy and we will have to be the end of it.

PROGRESS
Brothers, sisters
at last we can make out
the promised land
on the horizon,
almost within arm's reach. Work is no longer necessary. The machines can do
the work that we disdain. We've left behind the kingdom of need: our prehistory.
Then, brothers, let us rejoice.
The labor of millions of workers
has given fruit at last.
You'll never have to earn your bread again with the sweat of your brow.
Your productive work,
the sole source from which this new time that we're about to live streams forth,
will at last be free.
I know that in the meantime, a legion of spiders
is blocking the exits
with their viscous webs;
that the hand that holds you down erects enormous walls
so as to leave us out
of the time that we've invented. They've turned the way
out of the kingdom of survival into unemployment,
hunger, sweat and tears.
That is why, my brothers,
you must elevate your minds
over your troubled hearts,
prepare your bodies for the fight, take your destiny into your hands, and make your trumpets thunder. The walls of Jericho must fall.