I've been toying with nihilism for quite some time now and I've been intrigued by the contradiction central to so many anarchists. We seem to know that the revolution is unlikely. The obvious reasons here are that anarchy per se is not seductive, because too many people love state security; and because everyday people are undecided, as such, they are just as likely fascists as friends. And so, we've structured our narrative in order to make anarchism seductive; and so, others have found issue with anarchism for being state-like; and so, anarchists hate post-leftists; and finally (which is to say because these act without end) everyone hates the non-teleological nihilist. And so it goes.
The contradiction that has bothered me is simply the question about Hope: if there is no point in going for utopias, why do we act the way that we do?--We're fucked, we might as well anyways... Obviously one important reason is that we have to live with ourselves. And from this starting point, I want to address how we move beyond the inertia of lacking momentum. I think this is where repetitive ritual serves the point. Our hearts can grow beyond the gift to the other that you trust, towards the stranger that you've never met, from the relevance of the project that is doomed, from failure because of doubt. How do we grow our hearts? Practise. Tests. Living for friends. The unique ones that I know, that have found me, have the biggest hearts for their friends. But we struggle with being willing to take on "consentiment" in the production of making more friends.
Here's my enthymeme: because even if there was no point, I can say my heart was in it.