Acknowledgements
The Russian anarchist Petr
Kropotkin explains that no work can be considered the "intellectual
property" of one author or set of authors.
In The Conquest of Bread, he proclaims, "There is not even a
thought, or an invention, which is not common property, born of the past and
the present."[1] Before an author can express himself, he must
first recognize the authority of others, acknowledging his allegiance to those who
have guided him towards knowledge.
I first learned about Ricardo
Flores Magón on a Oaxacan beach from the chilango
anarcho-punk Luis Cardenas who, decked out in his Revolución X t-shirt,
urged me to seek out this great "poet, philosopher, and
prophet." I unfortunately lost
Luis' contact information in the Cleveland Greyhound terminal years ago, so if
anyone ever meets him, please tell him I say thanks.
I am also indebted to the
numerous scholars who have given their advice and support. My thanks go out to Lillian Castillo-Speed,
Ward S. Albro, Colin McLachlan, Richard Swartz, Lyle Brown, Reggie Rodriguez,
Juan Gomez Quiñones, Dana Ward, George Salzman,
Eric Rauchway, Fermin Rojas, John Hammett, Omar Cortes, Chantal Lopez, and Alfonso Torua
Cienfuegos.
Thanks to Andrew and Adobe
Books, Kate and Dog Eared Books, and Eric and City Lights for promoting
burgeoning
In The Conquest of Bread,
Kropotkin teaches that the revolution must first supply adequate food and
shelter before it can progress any further.
In that spirit, I would like to thank Wade and Lewis Jones and Hiroko
and Koichi Tamano for granting me refuge during the writing of this book.
Most especially, I would like
to express my gratitude to two individuals who aided and abetted me throughout
this project, supporting me materially, intellectually, emotionally, and
spiritually through its darkest hours.
Without reservation, I can safely state that this volume would not have
been possible without the comradeship of Barry Pateman (and the whole gang at
the Emma Goldman Papers Project) and my golden palamino Benjamin Ehrenreich.
Thanks to Ben and to Mona
Cowen for giving this work more flow than a diner waitress and more polish than
Leon Czogolz.
Salutations to the heart of
my land, for bearing with me during the writing of this volume.
This one’s for all the kids <yeah yeah!!> of every age and in every corner of the globe, first and foremost –
probably even fivemost – for all my old TADPOLE/HNJ/FNB/LPC cronies. This one’s for all the kids who chopped the
vegetables and all the kids who served the meal, for all the kids who broke the
lock and all the kids who emptied the piss bucket. This one’s for everyone who gave me a place to
crash when, run ragged by the road, I sought asylum: for Binky, Sarah, Omar, for Simone Levinas
and Georges Hansel, for CAF-FAC, for Godolinko Antivarium and ABB, for Count
Alexandru, for the Ciceu family, for the Manchin family, for Olga, for Misha
Tsovma, for Elias, Gilberto, Pepe, Benjamin, Humberto, Chicate, Oscar, Karla,
Gaby, Cesar, y todos los ajenos oaxaqueños.
Going faster miles an hour, I
remain
Your pal,
Mitchell Cowen Verter
roadrunner@waste.org