By On the occasion of our 20th anniversary
By Gustavo Arellano
By R. Scott Moxley
By Alfonso Delgado
By Courtney Hamilton
By Joel Beers
By Peter Maguire
By Charles Lam
By the time Reach Center's eviction party gets under way, Matt Lamont will be on his way to a state prison somewhere in California. The fact that the Reach Center won't be there waiting for him when he gets out left him momentarily speechless.
"It's because of these pigs, man," he finally said. "We can't do shows at the Info-Shop anymore; we can't even congregate there. It's too much heat. I guess I don't see the point of the place anymore either. I mean, what's the point? It's hard to believe how far they'll go to shut a place down and keep it from voicing dissent."
Lamont didn't seem shocked that many his fellow anarchists have dropped out of the movement and that one of his friends didn't want his name mentioned in this story for fear of reprisals by the police. "That guy won't even talk to me," he said. "But I don't blame people for getting freaked-out. People used to say the place was bugged, and I would try not to be paranoid. Then I saw in my police report that the officers were following me around with a video camera. It makes me wonder what will happen when I get out of prison."
Lamont has good reason to worry about life after prison, especially because he says he plans to step up his crusade against the police—with or without the rest of his friends from the Reach Center. "I want to get the fuck out of here and get back to work, harassing the police," he said, chuckling. "That means more articles for you and more jail time for me.
"The bottom line is this country has to change," he added after a long pause. "Time is running out for America. We're a whole new generation. Me, I'm prepared to go to prison. I'm prepared to die. I'm only 21 years old. I have plenty of life to throw away."