We are your ancestors, like stones and algae, and much more than monkeys. We are where you are and where you are not. If you see nothing more than what seems to you in the universe, it is for your harm! But above all, stop saying that I am the one who is killing you. You do not kill him for what I do to your tissues, but because you have stopped taking care of your peers. If among you you you have not been as proud as with all that lives on this planet, you will still have your beds, nurses and respirators enough to survive the devastations that I do in your lungs. If elderly people were not piled up in slaughterhouses and their healthy neighbours in houses of reinforced concrete rats, they would not be in this situation. If you had not transformed the breadth of the world, which until yesterday was still prosperous, chaotic, full of life, or, rather, worlds, if you had not become a desert for the monoculture of The Same and More, it would not have been possible for me to undertake the planetary conquest of your gorges.

If in the last century almost everyone had not made you redundant copies of an indifferent and unbearable life, you would not be preparing to die like flies abandoned in the waters of your sweetened civilization. If you had not turned your surroundings into such empty, transparent, so abstract spaces, I wouldn't have moved at the speed of an airplane. I am executing the judgment you gave a long time ago against you. Forgive me, but it is you, as far as I am aware, who have invented the term 'Antropozen'. You have attributed to you all the honor of defeat, and now, while this happens, it is too late to give up. The most honest among you know this well: I have no more accomplices than your own social organization, the madness of your "grand scale" and your economy, your fanaticism of the system. Only systems are "vulnerable". The rest live and die. There is only vulnerability for those who want to gain control and its dissemination and improvement. Look at me carefully, I'm just the other face of Death, which is his master and owner.

So stop making me guilty, denounce me, persecute me. To be stunned before me. That's all for kids. I propose that you change your mind: there is an immanent intelligence in life. You don't need to be subject to have a memory or a strategy. It's not necessary to decide to be sovereign. Bacteria and viruses can also cause it to rain and the sun to shine. So look at me as your savior, rather than as a grave. You're free not to believe, but I've come to the machine where you can't find any emergency brake. I have come to stop the activity in which the hostages were found. The aberration of "normality" was to be revealed. "Trusting our food, our protection, our ability to preserve our living conditions has been insane" … "there is no budget limit, health has no price": Take a look at the language and intelligence of the authorities! See how he reduced them to his real wretched trader and slut! Look at how they suddenly emerge, not only as useless, but as harmful! For them you are nothing more than the support of the reproduction of their system, that is, much less than the slaves. Plankton is also treated better than you are.

But do not waste energy by reproaching them, reproaching their limits. To denounce by recklessness is to give you more than you deserve. But ask yourself how it has been so easy to let you rule. To extol the merits of a Chinese solution to the British one, of a trans-Legist solution to the Darwinist-liberal method, is to understand nothing of the one or the other, nor of the horror of the one or the other. Since Quesnay, the "liberals" have always looked enviously at the Chinese Empire and continue to do so. They are the Siamese brothers. The confinement of one for his own sake, and that of another for the sake of the "society", is nothing more than a practice that at this moment is not nihilistic: caring for oneself, those whom you love and those whom we love when we do not know. Do not let those who have brought you into the ravine try to pull them out: they will prepare you a more improved hell, a deeper grave. The day they can, they will patrol with their armies in the valley.

Thank me. Without me, how much longer would all these seemingly indisputable things, the suspension of which has been immediately decreed, be necessary? Globalization, competitions, air traffic, budget limits, elections, spectacle of sports competitions, Disneyland, fitness rooms, much of the shops, parliament, school quadrillism, mass agglomerations, most of the office tasks, all that intoxicating sociability that is nothing but the inverse of the distressing loneliness of the metropolitan mounds. You see, none of this is necessary when the situation of need arises. Thank you for the proof of the truth that will happen in the coming weeks: in the end you will live in your own life, without thousands of escapes that maintain in one way or another the unbearable.

You didn't realize that you've never found yourself in your own existence. You lived in cardboard boxes, and you didn't know. Now you will live with your beloved. You will live in your home. You will stop being on the road of death. You may hate your husband. He may despise his children. Maybe you want to dynamite the decor of your everyday life. The truth is that in those metropolises of separation you would no longer be in the world. Your world had ceased to be habitable at all points, unless it had escaped endlessly. Ugliness was so present that it was necessary to feel distraction and movement. And hypocrisy reigned among the creatures. Everything had become so effective that nothing made sense. Thank you for all this and welcome to the earth!

Thanks to me, for an indefinite time, you will not work, your children will not go to school and yet you will be totally opposed to holidays. Holidays are a space that must be filled at all costs, waiting for a desire to return to work. But this thing that opens up in front of you, thanks to me, is not a limited space, it's a great openness. I came to flutter you down. No one guarantees you that the old world will not come back. All this cost-effective absurdity may have ended. If you are not paid, what would be more natural than to stop paying the rent? Why should you continue to pay bank fees if you are unable to work? Isn't it suicidal to live where you can't sow a garden? You can't stop eating for lack of money, and the one who has iron has bread, as Auguste Blanqui said. Give me thanks: I put you at the foot of the crossroads in which your beings, your lives, in silence, are structured: the economy or life. It is in your hands. What is at stake is historic. Or the rulers put your state of emergency on you, or you invent yours. Either you see the truth, or you put your head under the axe of the executioner. Either you take advantage of the time I give you now to imagine the future world, starting from the lessons of the collapse that we are now in, or it will become totally radicalized. The disaster ends when the economy stops. The economy is a disaster. This was a thesis before last month. Now it is a fact. No one escapes the number of police officers, the number of guards, propaganda, logistics and the number of teleworks needed to repress.

Do not give in to me, or to fear, or to the impulse of denial. You don't open the way to biopolitical histerias. The next few weeks will be terrible, terrible, cruel. The doors of Death will be wide open. I am the most destructive production of the destruction of production. I come back to nihilists. The injustice of this world will never be more scandalous. I come to bury a civilization, not you. Those who want to live will have to create new customs, which suit them. Skiing will be an opportunity for this new art of distances. The greeting arts, in which some were so blunt that they could not see the same form of the institution, will soon have no label. It will characterize beings. Do not do it "for others", "for the population" or "for society", do it for you and your colleagues. Take care of your friends and your loved ones. Think again with them, sovereign, a just life. Create conglomerates of good life, make them spread out, and I will not be able to do anything for you. This is not an appeal to return massively to discipline, but to pay attention. We do not call disregard, but at the end of irresponsibility. Could you remind me that salvation is in every gesture? What is everything in smallness?

I have had to give in to the evidence: humanity only raises questions that it cannot continue without raising them.