Meta-War: Guerrilla Decoherence and the Battle for Meaning
Or, Narrative Collapse and the Discipline of Protest
tl;dr: April 5 is not just a protest. It is a frame war.
This is your field manual for resisting collapse—lawfully, tactically, and on your own terms.
Legal & Ethical Disclaimer
This text is offered for academic, theoretical, and literary purposes. It does not constitute legal advice, nor does it advocate or encourage any unlawful activity. The strategies, metaphors, and examples presented here are intended to provoke critical thinking about governance, legitimacy, and resistance within the bounds of the law.
Radical Federalism rejects violence, sabotage, and terror. Our doctrine is rooted in lawful defiance, democratic resilience, and the architecture of decentralized governance. Always consult qualified legal counsel before engaging in any confrontational or jurisdictional strategy.
Even in banal settings—corporate decks, political campaigns, internal memos—everyone already understands: the story is the message. We shape facts into meaning. We shape meaning into action.
What’s at stake now is who gets to shape the frame.
Are all stories lies?
That’s one framing. The cynical one. All stories are simplifications, reductions, edits—some conscious, some imposed by structure, language, or expectation. A common mantra among skeptics goes like this: All stories are false. Some are useful.
But there’s another camp—one favored by some mathematicians, metaphysicians, and certain quiet insurgents. They don’t claim stories are lies. They claim they’re projections—the visible edge of something real. That the thing behind the story exists, and that the story is simply one map of it. Not arbitrary. Not false. Incomplete.
The difference matters.
Consider: the words you’re reading are “text,” yes—but that’s a story. Beneath that, they are pixels. Beneath that, they’re photons. Beneath that, quantum interactions. That’s not metaphor. That’s physics. Are you reading text or entangled energy states? The answer is yes.
So: is there a true story? Or are we choosing which map to render from the incomprehensible totality of what-is?
Platonists argue that mathematical truths are discovered, not invented. That there's something timeless being glimpsed through whichever substrate we choose to use—paper, silicon, language. Set theory or category theory. The foundation pins things down so they may be operated on—and should not be confused for the thing itself. Even when the substrates are contradictory or incompatible, the thing underneath can still be real.
So what about narrative? What about protest?
What was the Tea Party—organic revolt or captured reaction?
What was Occupy—chaotic spectacle or a generational scream for justice?
Both were collapsed into frames—ones that often contradicted the experience of those inside. That’s not a failure of media. That’s how media functions.
We collapse waveforms when we tell stories. But humans make meaning from narrative, and narrative is how power is organized, preserved, and overthrown.
It’s how political movements are judged. It’s how legitimacy is assigned. It’s how protest becomes history—or gets erased.
This is not postmodernism. And it’s not a rejection of truth. It’s a recognition of what even middle managers know when they prepare a client deck: What story are we telling with this slide? What is the story the data tells? What will the campaign whisper? What will the algorithm amplify?
This is not theoretical. It is tactical.
Because on April 5 and all protest to come, we don’t just face a fight over policy, over participation, or over presence. We face a fight over frame—a battle between:
What happens
What gets seen
And what gets remembered
█ Humans make meaning out of narrative, and make war over whose meaning the wavefront will collapse to.
I. The First Fight: What Kind of Protest Is This?
There are three broad categories of protest:
Non-Cooperation—Strikes, boycotts, refusal to engage
Peaceful Demonstration—Marches, rallies, sit-ins, pickets
Aggressive/Disruptive Protest—Blockades, occupations, riots
I lied. That third category introduces its own narrative bias. There’s actually five categories of protest:
Non-Cooperation
Passive Protest
Demonstrative Protest
Direct Action
Violent Protest
I lied again. The reality is that it’s a continuum.
Or maybe not a continuum at all. Maybe it's multidimensional. Maybe it's a topology.
Maybe it's a field of possibilities collapsing into a single story. Maybe every act of resistance is protest—just not always framed that way.
Regardless: we must be the second type. A Peaceful Demonstration.
We must be disciplined. Visible. Composed. Strategic. We must be peaceful demonstrators—not because we are afraid to be more, but because we refuse to hand the regime the footage it needs to collapse us into a story they can use.
The facts will be thousands of individuals…with contradictory actions.
There will be provocateurs. There will be infiltration. There will be temptations to respond to police violence with misplaced emotion.
Don’t.
An empty water bottle gets the same response as a brick. Don’t throw it.
An argument with a badge can be clipped, captioned, and recut into federal propaganda. Don’t feed it.
█ We are fighting not just for our protest to succeed—
but for our protest to be remembered as what it was.
II. The Second Fight: What Story Will Be Told?
Whatever happens on April 5, the facts will be complex. Thousands or tens of thousands or a hundred times that number of participants. Millions of interactions. And almost as many contradictions.
But the regime and its media affiliates will collapse it into one frame.
It will not be “April 5, a day of legal protest with scattered incidents.”
It will be: riot. Or threat. Or precursor to violence.
They will clip the worst frame, cut the context, and broadcast it on loop.
They will choose the frame which cauterizes the incursion.
This isn’t new. They did it to Black Lives Matter. To Occupy. To the Tea Party.
They will do it again.
The powers and principalities do not welcome our disruption.
It does not matter whether the majority are lawful, composed, and restrained.
What matters is whether the narrative collapse is allowed to happen.
And that is why discipline matters most when you think you're winning.
When the crowd is large, the energy high, and the regime panicked—
that is when the narrative war will be launched. It is when we are most confident that we are most vulnerable.
This is the inverse of Sun Tzu's warning about overextension.
Our greatest weakness is when we feel our strength.
That is when they will try to turn the footage into a weapon.
We must not let them.
We must not give them the story they’re waiting to write.
Because the protest they report will not be the protest you lived.
Because beneath every protest is a meta-protest:
the war over how the event will be told, retold, recorded, framed, and remembered.
III. Rules of Engagement
Narrative Rules of Engagement
– No thrown objects.
– No chants you don’t want on national television.
– Film everything.1
– Share nothing live.2
– Don’t speak to press unless designated.
– Always be seen helping someone.
– Always be seen refusing escalation.
– Never let the story outpace the truth.
Discipline is not compliance.
It is legitimacy made visible.
It is how sovereignty begins—not with rage, but with restraint.
█ The regime wants collapse—of order, of memory, of meaning.
They want the provocation. The flare. The frame.
Deny it. Deny them everything.
IV. The Doctrine of Containment
Power will reduce all protest into the least sympathetic image it can broadcast at scale.
Your job is not just to act—but to deny that reduction the footage it requires.
Containment is not passivity.
It is refusal by design.
It is discipline as strategy.
Refuse the provocation.
Refuse the escalation.
Refuse the moment that turns your action into someone else’s justification.
When the provocateur throws the first punch, do not answer.
When riot police bait a crowd, do not respond in kind.
The regime is not filming to understand you.
It is filming to collapse you—
to flatten thousands of complexities into one usable clip.
Containment is narrative denial.
Containment is friction without spectacle.
Containment is how we stay plural in the face of forced coherence.
Containment is not retreat. It is siege warfare.
A line that does not break, because it does not fire.
A presence that does not yield, because it does not react.
A discipline that cannot be reframed, because it refuses the story they came to tell.
You are not just protesting.
You are holding the field.
And you are writing your own terms.
V. Collapsing the Narrative
What does this mean for April 5—and the days, weeks, and months that follow?
The regime in Washington doesn’t merely enforce laws. It enforces a narrative. It claims sole authority over legitimacy, history, and reality itself. It collapses the plural into the singular. Resistance begins by refusing that collapse.
While the regime uses force to silence dissent, its more potent weapon is categorization. It defines the map. It decides what counts as protest, what counts as law, what counts as real.
Here’s how it works in reverse:
A Russian submarine parked off the U.S. coast made headlines under Trump, as a signal of softness towards Russia. But the sub had done the same under Obama. The only thing that changed was the story—and the segment of the population for whom that story was tailored.
This is today’s propaganda. It is selective curation of fact, distributed by aligned narratives and filtered by algorithms. It is truth weaponized through omission.
We fight a meta-war. Not just for outcomes—but for ontology.
█ If you don’t fight the war over what counts, you’re just moving inside the enemy’s frame.
VI. Against Collapse: Keep the Waveform Open
And the lesson goes beyond protest into the broader resistance, whatever form, wherever on the continuum or within the topology that sits.
The regime demands certainty. It wants coherence, not complexity. One history. One reading of the Constitution (theirs). One legal sovereign. It collapses what was once plural into a single state-sanctioned eigenstate.
That isn’t collateral damage. That’s the tactic.
So we name our first countermeasure: guerrilla decoherence.
Keep the waveform open. Hold competing truths in superposition. Protect ambiguity they can’t govern. Refuse their categories—violent, fringe, radical—and deny them the collapse they crave.
Guerrilla decoherence is how we protect what complexity the regime cannot absorb.
Arendt wrote that power depends on consent—but warned that totalitarian regimes don’t earn it. They script it. Our refusal to follow that script is not just survival. It is sabotage.
Every time we preserve interpretive multiplicity—of law, of legitimacy, of what governance could mean—we rupture the myth of a single, centralized truth. We remind the public: legitimacy was never the Regime’s to own.
Whether truth is singular, relative, or constructed is irrelevant to how narrative war is waged.
█ On April 5, when the media narrative demands a single storyline—whether ‘lawless riot’ or ‘fringe gathering’—our job is to keep the situation nuanced and plural. That’s where guerrilla decoherence begins.
VII. Weaponize Narrative Entropy
The narrative war is not fought over facts. It’s a war fought over frames.
Every act of federal overreach is a rupture in their story. Our job is to widen the crack. Make it echo. Let contradictions metastasize.
When the regime says order, show the backlog.
When it says law, name the exception.
When it says unity, trace the fracture.
This is guerrilla frame seizure. Clip. Caption. Reframe. Repeat.
We aren’t just revealing hypocrisy. We are corroding structure. A regime that cannot speak without contradiction cannot mobilize belief. A center that cannot narrate itself cannot hold.
█ Weaponize their contradictions. Every talking point that tries to define us becomes an opening—every misrepresentation, a crack in their story. Our job is to make those cracks echo.
VIII. Noncooperation as Meta-Strike
The regime’s strongest illusion is inevitability. And that illusion requires participation.
Our refusal isn’t just disobedience—it’s illegibility.
We don’t just say no. We become unreadable. Unmapped. Outside their census. Beyond their scripts.
A petition can be ignored. But a glitch in every system? A mismatch in every form? A withdrawal from every input? That’s harder to predict than a march—and harder to punish.
So we don’t just march.
We withdraw.
We become illegible.
We refuse to cooperate.
We don’t break the machine. We confuse it.
We don’t confront authority. We route around it.
This is how we become ungovernable by design. Not through spectacle. Through subtle corrosion. When enough people disappear from the field of control, the regime begins to misfire.
It governs ghosts.
█ Noncooperation means more than refusing to participate in their systems of violence. It means staying unreadable—making their surveillance fail by stepping outside every trap they set.
IX. Rhizome as Counter-State
The mesh is not protest. It’s infrastructure.
While the regime chases spectacle and velocity, we build slow, redundant, fault-tolerant networks. A pantry. A pod. A ledger. A node.
This is rhizomatic power—decentralized, self-replicating, anti-fragile.
When they cut the leader, the cell regrows.
When they erase the archive, the mesh rehosts.
When they ban the assembly, the network regroups.
This isn’t just resistance. It’s prefiguration. We don’t just say no—we prototype what comes after.
█ If a march is blocked or a leader is silenced, the rhizome simply shifts routes and reemerges elsewhere—showing that no crackdown can uproot a decentralized network.
X. The Fight for Many Futures
Radical Federalism is not nostalgic.
It is not utopian.
It is not singular.
It is plural.
We do not fight for one restored past or one perfected future. We fight for the right to have many futures—in tension, in dialogue, in federation.
And that’s what makes us dangerous. Because true pluralism cannot be commanded. It must be lived, negotiated, sustained.
They offer collapse, centralization, obedience.
We offer contradiction, autonomy, regeneration.
Let their empire chase coherence.
We will grow what it cannot contain.
█ Our presence is proof that we don’t accept a single fate; each person standing for plural, contested, freely chosen futures—this Saturday and beyond—pushes back against the regime’s monopoly on meaning.
Closing Invocation
Govern like the regime is illegitimate.
Build where the state cannot see.
Refuse the collapse.
Become ungovernable by design.
Keep the waveform open.
Let us not fight merely for control of the state—
but for control of the field of meaning itself.
The future is not a single arc.
It is a decentralized republic of stories still being written—
in your town, your node, your mesh.
Every time a regime has demanded coherence, there were those who refused to collapse.
From the ruins of Rome to the mines of Bolivia,
from the coded quilts of enslaved fugitives to the whispered songs of exile,
the plural has always found ways to outlive the singular.
All empires collapse in narrative first.
The center loses the ability to explain itself.
Then it tries to silence others.
Then the scaffolding fails.
We’re not just resisting collapse—
we are preparing what comes after.
You may never know their names.
But those who resisted before you did so without cameras,
without headlines, and often without hope.
You stand in the lineage of the unarchived.
Your restraint is their continuation.
Will you help build it?
█ The battle for freedom begins wherever the regime can no longer define you.
Final Caveat
The ideas in this piece are shared as part of an evolving doctrine of democratic resistance.
They are not instructions. They are not legal guidance.
They are frameworks—drawn from history, theory, and civic imagination—intended to help lawful actors navigate a collapsing constitutional order.
Nothing here should be interpreted as a call to illegal activity.
We advocate nonviolent, constitutional strategies only.
Readers bear full responsibility for knowing and complying with applicable laws in their jurisdiction.
█ Resistance is not chaos. It is discipline. It is restraint. It is refusal by design.
In every conflict, the real battle isn’t just for power—
it’s for meaning.
Secure your recordings using trusted, encrypted channels—preserving our story and our safety.
During the 2020 BLM protests, livestreams were used to track and arrest participants within hours, sometimes within minutes. If we’re being specific, we might say “Film everything. Share nothing live unless strategically justified. Delay uploads when possible. Filter for safety and context. The story must be ours—not theirs.”