Our primary goal right now is to determine who is the enemy, where it
    lurks, which are its weapons. Our parents thought the enemy was that big
    bourgeois who boasted of their comforts and their superiority over the
    other, "the proletariat". The picture was simple, almost as simple as
    a cowboy movie, the evil bourgeoisie and the noble proletarians. 

    I'm sorry to disappoint you, but, things are not so simple, the enemy
    lurks not only in the soul of the bourgeois who rejoices in grandiose
    excess, the enemy is everywhere: in the intellectual who boasts of his
    literary trifles, the housewife who burns her eyes in front to of th TV
    screen, the clerk that pales under the neon glow that expels the cathode
    ray tubes of his office. The enemy is not a cliché, is more like a cancer
    or a virus that destroys all, the enemy is everything. 

    If the enemy is everything, if the enemy is the system, we must attack
    it with the only possible weapon: mockery; make fun of it, make fun of
    yourself. The system wants everything to be serious: "get serious", "be
    serious", "this is serious". Its weapon is to make us believe that things
    everything as purpose, a sense that we are in this world for a reason.
    "Know thyself", "find a purpose", "transcend". We're dust, we're rubble, we
    are nothing, we are here for a macabre coincidence, we are conscious only
    for a chemical whim. 

    The revolution can not be taken seriously, we are no revolutionaries, we
    do not want to change social structures, we are fascinated with the fake
    realities of "reality shows" I'm writing this from a corporate headquarter,
    I do "serious" things, I use tie, I used tie at school, I'm a walking
    contradiction. How can I pretend to be a revolutionary? We want to be the
    mirror of the mirror, to show that everything is a joke, that everything
    can be turned into something ridiculous, that life is absurd, chaotic,
    multiple. To show that the truth is not monolithic, that the truth doesn't
    exist. We only want to be the mirror of the mirror, to refract the solemn,
    to rejoice with contradictions.