This is probably as close as we'll ever get to writing a manifesto.
Something that we can look back to, like a piece of anthology, thinking how those were the good old days. The good times. The times of our lives. The beginning of something. But then again, let this be a never-ending beginning. An evergreen narrative.
As we approach the second edition of Commerce and Creativity Montreal, probably the world's largest if not the most creativity-centric business conference, we are prepared to demonstrate in action and intervention what we aim to achieve with our friends, our partners, our clients, our customers on a daily basis.
We are organized in a multinode, loosely-coupled network of some of the city's most creative and driven minds. We open platforms and channels, provide ideas, artefacts, methods, words and analyses. Beyond creation, we connect people and ideas. We link things together, we bang and mash and clash and hope to light a bonfire of human synapses, with flames dancing in coordinated small steps and giant leaps forward.
We believe that this is the only way things will work. If we empower every single individual to do something, to reach out, to post something and add their brick to the edifice. To break things and make things. To contribute while drawing from the open minds of others, to learn while enacting, to reflect, reproduce, recreate, reiterate.
We are the post-modern version of revolutionary guerilleros. Our ultimate purpose is to take what exists and make it better, more fluid, maybe more productive, more human, more profitable. We are the anti-drones, the overmen, the cyborgs of a new world that has yet to come. Our tools are nothing extraordinary. But we put them to different uses. We reinterpret the world. We are the readers of the biggest book ever written.
We are not after anyone's job nor property. We are here to make jobs better and properties more fruitful. To unleash the potential that sits idle in arbitrary job descriptions and mindless bureaucracies, in rules that need breakage, in the space between the chairs and in alternatives that have fallen through bottomless pits and cracks. In our view, hacking – to divert objects from their primary functions – is the only legitimate form of democracy.
We invade platforms not to take over, but to spread the words, share the wealth, recombine in funky new ways. We are permutators and reconfigurators. We are commentators of the present, ever renewed, ever redrawn, never completely sure of anything but of our own uncertainty. Dubito ergo sum.
We explore the subterrenea of the grand cathedrals that we have inherited, and in them we find people and their thoughts and their dreams and their perspectives. So many ways to make everything better, ways that just remain entrapped, in as many Pandora's boxes as there are accountants and secretaries, conscientious janitors and muted middle-managers, overwhelmed CEOs and restless VPs, insomniacs and workaholics, globetrotters and wanderers.
We are all of them and all of you. We are the minions of a corporate underground that is clamoring for lean startups and innovative dilemmas, from open innovation to creative commons. We entered the 21st century with a dream, one we've had, like a big yes-we-can to answer all those fuck-yous and do-not-disturbs.
We collaborate to create. This is the only way we know how to do things.
Please bear with us.
We might be doing something odd.
But if you never step out of the path, how do you ever find new ways?