At least the fables of psychotics are of their own invention. Who constituted the constitution? Rich men paid to think for those apparently too poor to afford two brain-cells to rub together. The constituency were told they had been blessed with 'one of the most liberal in the world', and with this useless accolade sedated themselves more deeply than if they had been given opium.
Like the bible, the constitution is not merely a lie, but an objectionable lie: a myth woven to hoodwink those swindled by the society of the spectacle. The gods it 'enshrines' -- and the word is not coincidental -- authorise, justify and enforce the most morally reprehensible atrocity possible: the sacrifice of every human life at the altar of the dead objects we ourselves produce. In earlier epochs, the ideology of abject submission was materialised in stone commandments and codices, through whips and pyramids, branded on the backs of the oppressed. Today it declares itself through paper and fibre-optics, in voting booths and skyscrapers, branded on the commodities that cover the surface of the planet. For those virgins and lambs who decide to desert the privileged role of sacred-victim so nobly assigned to them by the invisible hand of god, the constitution and its agents will form the front-line of defense against their incipient insurgency. As they begin to mount their attack they will recognise that Harry Roberts is our friend and recall the words of Clement Duval, one of our comrades from the past who, after apprehension by the forces of order (against whom he inflicted honourable casualties) for pillaging the art studio of the aristocratic Madeline Lamaire, declared
'Theft exists only through the exploitation of man by man, that is to say in the existence of all those who parasitically live off the productive class... When Society refuses you the right to exist, you must take it... The policeman arrested me in the name of the Law, I struck him in the name of Liberty.'
