Chaos theater, is a surprise presentation... a veridic drama, an hiperrealist fiction (wich trascends ordinary reality) or a fictionated reality. It appears unexpectedly taking the 'spectator' by surprise, shaking him out of his merely expectant passive role, provoking him and inciting him to actively participate. Like an upheaval, a shock to the comfortable homeostatic sleepyness provided by cultural amenities and energetic lethargy, direct consequence of the contamination received through the consumption of bad food (rotten corpses of art).Movies and music, paint and literature, only make us more stupid. We consume the psychic filth of dead minds, distilling its aroma of putrefaction (its artistic expression). Even the most avant-garde smells as ignorance. We live a life indigestible and lethargic, heavy and drowsy, because of our polluted artistic influences, and just as rotten fruit, defiles the whole box, so our expression degenerates.
Chaos Theater is a surprise put on alert... that just as death comes unexpectedly, suddenly, mercilessly destroying without an option our shelter in the world. And as the darkening of earthly life (death) means the entry into the light for some and hopeless hell for others, caos theater will represent the pure vital energy, fresh and uncontaminated, conscientious and enlightened that unifies the poles, wich disintegrates dualities, revealing the fiction that exists in all personality, unifying it with reality.
While some will manage to use it as a conscious awakening, most will fly reluctant, preventing their participation, escaping to the extinction of their moral, not to give up their comfort old-fashioned conception of comfortable art, completely fictional, wich barely alludes (at best) to some form of 'reality'.
In chaos theater fiction becomes reality and reality becomes ficticious because there's never been a difference, our old fictions tried to represent the world... and our real life has never been anything but an unconscious fiction.
Children have been annihilated; selling them expensive industrial games (our adult personalities and the various professions and trades made by industry) we have entered the monopoly of imagination...governed by a tyrant and bored entity, in a non-artistic and inflexible game wich rules and final goal is to forget that it's a game, numbing us on the belief of a specific self, in a hard and determined world, where what we are is determined by social judgements, laws, morals, culture, and can not change. Our name and last name, document number, social security, mortgage credit. An horror game, a sentence in a specific character, for the rest of our lives. The worst of all prisions. Whose only bars are the conviction that it's real.
Captured in the belief of one's identity.
Chaos Theater is a surprise put on alert... that just as death comes unexpectedly, suddenly, mercilessly destroying without an option our shelter in the world. And as the darkening of earthly life (death) means the entry into the light for some and hopeless hell for others, caos theater will represent the pure vital energy, fresh and uncontaminated, conscientious and enlightened that unifies the poles, wich disintegrates dualities, revealing the fiction that exists in all personality, unifying it with reality.
While some will manage to use it as a conscious awakening, most will fly reluctant, preventing their participation, escaping to the extinction of their moral, not to give up their comfort old-fashioned conception of comfortable art, completely fictional, wich barely alludes (at best) to some form of 'reality'.
In chaos theater fiction becomes reality and reality becomes ficticious because there's never been a difference, our old fictions tried to represent the world... and our real life has never been anything but an unconscious fiction.
Children have been annihilated; selling them expensive industrial games (our adult personalities and the various professions and trades made by industry) we have entered the monopoly of imagination...governed by a tyrant and bored entity, in a non-artistic and inflexible game wich rules and final goal is to forget that it's a game, numbing us on the belief of a specific self, in a hard and determined world, where what we are is determined by social judgements, laws, morals, culture, and can not change. Our name and last name, document number, social security, mortgage credit. An horror game, a sentence in a specific character, for the rest of our lives. The worst of all prisions. Whose only bars are the conviction that it's real.
Captured in the belief of one's identity.
Our chaotic theater emulates an enlightened and conscious schizophrenia, a disolution of 
personalities, a collective entheogen experience, a desintegration of selfs, a conscious game...the resurrection of strange children with bizarre adult minds desintegrating in their spontaneous expression every remaining of strenght, of specific identity...lost in the high armony of chaos, discovering love's insensitive substance, independent of emotions and conditioned feelings.Yes, chaos's love is infinite and insensitive, merciless and absolute. A tyrannical ruler who conquer us with his power, and consciously displays himself regardless of their masks. Grotesque or subtle appearance, noble or villain, conscious of his identity skillfully and misleadingly leads us to the reality of his loving body. Since its chaotic, it is also unconditional, you cannot activate it on the other, using praise and weight, not frustrate it with insults trying to prevent him from experiencing it; chaos's love has become independent of your action. His prophets are crazy terrorist for your idiosyncrasy and morals.
personalities, a collective entheogen experience, a desintegration of selfs, a conscious game...the resurrection of strange children with bizarre adult minds desintegrating in their spontaneous expression every remaining of strenght, of specific identity...lost in the high armony of chaos, discovering love's insensitive substance, independent of emotions and conditioned feelings.Yes, chaos's love is infinite and insensitive, merciless and absolute. A tyrannical ruler who conquer us with his power, and consciously displays himself regardless of their masks. Grotesque or subtle appearance, noble or villain, conscious of his identity skillfully and misleadingly leads us to the reality of his loving body. Since its chaotic, it is also unconditional, you cannot activate it on the other, using praise and weight, not frustrate it with insults trying to prevent him from experiencing it; chaos's love has become independent of your action. His prophets are crazy terrorist for your idiosyncrasy and morals.Chaos theater: The union between life and fiction, a dissolution of borders, the elixir of art, its culmination, and paradoxically, at last, its birth. A paradigm shift, from an unreal art, forcedly fictioned, to a liberated expression, an opera of infinite proportions. The dissolution of art in own life. A constant game. The contemplation of the infinite unfolding of personalities, their unreality, and the positive artistic use of all of them.
A realized personality is such who has completely erradicated the belief in reality. The essence of paradox, a theater of illuminated minds, wich, shiny, with the energy of Suns, irrigate inner enlightenment with the rays of its expression.
"Chaos Theater' is also "secret theater" (as Hakim Bey calls it), since its not actually a theater, but more like a liberation trap...a sudden awakening, an artistic sunrise, the energetic frenesí wich provokes with expectations the reaction of heart, or in its unfortunate and expected default, the defensive reaction by the culturally conditioned viewer's personality wich doesn't commit to its own death and liberation. A kind of reckoning that will elevate or condemn us, to the miseries and virtues of our inner selves, always calling for the awakening and redemption.
We hope with joy and love, impatient and excited with infectious chaos to bless our theaters, try and collapse slow, indifferent and numb minds, to the coherent wake of its thousands of manifestations. Divine madness. The awakening of the gods. A transformative catharsis.
A real artist is like a soldier, enlisted in a higher mision, conquering with poetry and divinity, breaking with their allies gods in human minds, until love is emancipated from sensational requirements and conditions, and any mental structure dissolves in harmony. A murder of morality and prejudice, stupidity and ignorance. The real holy war. The conquest of love.
Maynun
