This manifesto-essay, conceived as a blueprint for a "Loudreading machine," argues for modes of worldmaking that transcend and transgress the fatal enclosures of borders, which it likens to burials that inter possibility, ecologies, and the "movements and migrations" of bodies. Written collectively from an "underwater island" by a chorus of voices— a pedagogical propagandist, a liberation builder, a post-colonial poet, a bio-technological hacker, a feminist filmmaker, an iconoclastic sculptor, a kinship kindergartner, a kynical lector, and a migrant ghostwriter—the text positions itself against the necropolitical governance that enables genocidal violence, drawing direct energy from the student encampments for Palestine as revolutionary models of spontaneous, autonomous resistance. Structured as a series of poetic "seeds," the work builds from Mahmoud Darwish's haunting lines, "The Earth is closing on us," to propose acts of refusal, remembrance, collective building, and mystical invocation as forms of insurgent pedagogy. By abandoning the traditional studio for clandestine gatherings, this "Narrative Underground" harnesses poetry, ritual, and what it calls "Loudreading"—a vocal, communal rupture of silence—to propagate the tools for building life within enclosure. Using the Cadavre exquis (exquisite corpse) as a methodology, the piece declares that in the face of imperial, colonial, and patriarchal power, every project is a political act, and the only viable response is to cultivate an unruly, collective, and borderless future from the very soil of our resistance.
Garcia et al. (Wed,) studied this question.