We are a generation raised on zombie movies. Of the 5,000 ads each one of us saw today, explosions punctuated more than a few.
So how can you blame us when we get a taste for destruction?
We live the revenge-torture films we’ve been spoon fed. I remember the first time I saw a cop break someone’s arm. Let me set the scene: A cloud of pepper spray was slowly settling on us as we ran. From a hill overlooking the street that 80 of us had been marching down moments ago, our coughing and wheezing fused the strange mixture of fear and exhilaration into a single feeling. Suddenly, we saw four cops pounce on one of the stragglers. Tackled, she fell hard. Her howls became part of a single emotion. Like a fine wine, or better yet, expensive perfume, my memories of protest have a distinctive smell composed of many complex notes. And I protest like any good connoisseur, avoiding boring or bland actions, while seeking out every chance to experience a slice of the sublime.
Sure, we come up with excuses or even justifications after the gravity from activist bureaucrats black holes suck us in. A handful of those who call themselves ‘activists’ are even worthy of our forgiveness. They came from families that taught them the virtues of keeping daily planners, following teachers orders, and completing homework on time. But the rest of us long shrugged off the need to find success by following the rules of their game, using their measuring sticks, and following their time-tables.
Leave the counting to the bankers. They seem to invent as much funny money as they need to cover their sloppy accounting, anyway. But, as they say, capitalism succeeded because it was more exciting than everything that came before it; but now we have something more exciting than capitalism itself: its destruction.
Isn’t it about time to enjoy everything they’ve given us?
Anarchist Without Content 
The gods positioned this global situation with a telepathic audience in the hundreds of millions to create the appearance/perception of an evil/wicked diety, thereby corrupting those unable to deceipher the clues and understand their true intent. This has effectively created a division between those with hope and The Damned, sentenced to dig a hole for themselves they may never recover from as they fall for temptation the gods test them with.
I believe it was Fulvia Carnevale who, in referring to black bloc style tactics, while at the same time being careful to not make a case for it, said something to the effect; “It is what is left in the hands of our discontent, at the stage of society we have reached, despite ourselves: the impossibility of marching together while shouting out phrases so that they can be heard, the incapacity to engage in indirect and representative actions, the urgent need to unload one-thousandth of the cruelty the State, money, and advertisements inject in all our veins every day,” while further adding “No desubjectivisation can bridge the abyss that has grown between the critique of social movements and their reality. Once we judge the unique and exceptional moments of autonomous movements with the measure we use on ordinary life moments, we are in the process of constructing the logical and political circle that closes in on its own idiocy.”
Regarding the destruction of Capitalism, it continually demonstrates its own prowess in that regard with each waking day, along with its imperviousness to traditional forms of struggle. At any rate, we shouldn’t expect the ‘whatever singularity’ to make inroads against the collective narcissism of demonstration politics.