BOOK REVIEW: Harassment Architecture by Mike Ma
Harassment Architecture is Mike Ma’s debut piece of literary genius, with his second already in the works. Part shitpost, part psychosomatic violent daydream, this dark comedy is a gripping take on the world we see around us. One of a nightmarish hellscape where technology rapes virgin land for the sake of profit, where invasion is promoted as ‘tolerance’ and where transgender dragkids dance for money for homosexual men’s enjoyment in nightclubs. With content describing this, it's no wonder it became an Amazon first day best seller.
It’s 140 pages long so it’s a short but gripping read, but similar to James Mason’s SIEGE, everything expressed has been thoughtfully and carefully written to only include the best prose, and not stumble over extra words. It’s a mix of poetic beauty, professional tones and vulgar humour (evident with how many times he calls someone a faggot or retard for example) which makes it all the more enjoyable. Harassment Architecture is the night to Bronze Age Mindset’s day.
As man is a product of his environment, it is no wonder the author so vehemently verbally eviscerates the archetypes he encounters on his journey through this clown world. You will notice almost immediately that the two are polar opposites; Mike doesn’t drink alcohol and hates technology, whereas city-dwelling underlings who are certain to devolve (if they are so lucky to reproduce) drink on weekdays, worship the latest developments technology presents (because it makes their lives easier), and poison themselves with the foods they eat.
His solution? Burn everything with a cleansing fire until what remains is pure. He sees nothing but his tribe and what is objectively beautiful as worth saving or valuable. This is accelerationist on another level, almost on steroids, absurd to the point of laughter, but it will make you question things. Form guerilla squads with other accelerationists in the deep woods, lift heavy weights and bask in the sun.
I have described the book to friends as a scattered, very unorganised dark comedy (self admitted) railing against the evils of modern man and what his society has created and become, very well articulated shitposting (like we saw on his Twitter) and rants against sin, modernism and technology. Flick to any page and you are guaranteed to find a passage that is worth noting or considering further.
What is most striking to me is his rant against ugliness in culture (aptly called cultural poverty), which presents itself through physical ugliness and weakness, spiritual atheism and fedora-tipping self-abasement, embracing the ‘bugman’ lifestyle, bad art and architecture everywhere (he describes office paintings as beautiful for the first 15 seconds you see it, but realise the sadness in how something so unimpressive can make you briefly feel that way), and the widespread embrace of mediocrity and apathy.
He wants people to get angry at what is happening to this world, and become the architects of harassment and chaos—even if it’s something as breaking lots of BMW windows or crossing out Spanish translations on street signs. But you must also decelerate what you love and hold in high esteem.
My generation has no World War or Vietnam, the biggest thrill we could get in this dull modern world is screaming the Gamer Word™ repeatedly through megaphones atop Chinese-owned supermarkets while pinging decently sized rocks and pebbles with tennis rackets into the rich suburbs, hoping to break the windows of dark grey 2018 edition Volvo sedans, among other things. Not that I would ever endorse this though! Tennis racket strings are a bitch to replace. I say just keep consuming and not asking questions hehe ^___^
Where the book gets into either exciting or dicey territory, depending on your sensitivities, is where he supports chaos and acts of domestic terrorism (not going to state what though, you’ll have to read that for yourself!) and terrorists themselves for their aesthetics and stylistic choices. If you’ve ever read Ted Kaczynski or Pentti Linkola, then some of the rhetoric surrounding wild nature and technology becomes familiar.
He has a way of starting a sentence normally but ending it in a way that you didn’t expect it to and weaving in esoteric references like putting someone’s teeth on a curb, to give it that extra punch. An example of this is the section about that sad, sad, pathetic and sad Sophia from New York City, and the first to third paragraphs of Before the Future Gets too Low.
As the subtitle suggests, this has a spiritual aspect to it that has made me consider the nature of God further, and argues that civility is is the crushing of man’s soul and demeanour, a wild man is God fearing, strong and upright. God didn’t die or was murdered, but rather can’t see the world because “heaven’s light is snubbed by shields of internetwork, bluetooth connections, and phone link entanglements.”
At around $30 for Australians (including shipping) this book will make you laugh and think, but also won’t hurt your wallet—can’t guarantee it won’t make you want to lynch a banker, though.
I give this book 5 out of 5 destroyed power stations, it’s definitely worth your time and money, but to fully appreciate it, read it through twice. Some of my favourite chapters are: Not Enough Violence, Three Feet on the Gas, Before the Future Gets too Low, Some Time to Overhear, Home’s Barber, Born Into Fire, and Accelerate the World, Decelerate Your Tribe.