1. |
Promethean Fire
10:21
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"He who learns must suffer.
And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will,
comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.“
- Aeschylus
In great denial,
When they shuffle off this mortal coil,
In great denial,
Through the dark and bloody ground.
In great denial,
Sworn to sing the corrupter‘s din,
In great denial.
And with hubris comes the fall,
Drifting across the rippling wall,
On the dark and bloody ground,
Came to me:
This rock for which I‘m bound, the wind I fear won‘t hear me,
And alas, in a crippling sway,
All life bent towards the light.
In great denial,
Cursed the land of the ploughman‘s toil,
In great denial,
In flood and in famine.
In great denial,
He too sings the corrupter‘s din,
In great denial.
And with hubris comes the fall,
Drifting across the rippling wall,
On the dark and bloody ground, came to me on the rock I‘m bound:
The wind I fear won‘t hear me,
The ploughmen will bless his toil.
And alas, in a crippling sway,
All life bent towards the light.
Болью, болью
Дышит тело мое
Обреченно
Пашем полотно черно.
Иссохли воды
Под палящим зноем
Плоть истерзанну
Поим гноем рваных мозолей.
Зри!
Мы ползем змеей
по усопшему телу
Земли!
В мучениях вечных
Тащим камень тартара
Замри!
Во мраке надежды
Вечно жаждущей света
Мы две змеи
На извечной тропе
Круговой колеи!
Круговой колеи…
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
With pain, with pain
My body still breathes,
So fatefully,
We plough the canvas of black.
Waters ’re dried up
Under the scorching sun,
Our worn-out flesh is drunk
with the pus of our torn corns.
Behold!
We crawl like a snake
over the mortal remains
Of the earth!
Suffering over and over,
We’re dragging Tartarus’ stone.
Hold still!
In the darkness of hope
Striving for ever – towards the light!
We ‘re two snakes
On the eternal path
Of a circular track!
Of a circular track...
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2. |
The Faustian Pact
08:09
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“The God who made iron grow did not need slaves.“
A maniacal forge seeds the tempter and triangulates the sin, the madness and the fury. Where one abandons all hope. At a funeral for the sun; They will dement the divide. Into a world of sin, of shit - in schism - the man will seek the angel at the bottomless pit.
Vanquished ground,
From birth till rigor mortis,
The vultures damn the hive to the wreaking hole
Descension bound,
Where lust defines the order,
Till the mass grave that sends the defeated man to the madhouse.
And a testament to his ruin;
Absent the fruits of patient toil
He will never lick the wounds
This disease heightens the senses
In a world of sin, of shit - but in schism -
One gets harder in time.
And if destruction be our lot, be it the glory of the slaves.
Vanquished ground,
From birth till rigor mortis,
The vultures damn the hive to the wreaking hole
Descension bound,
Where lust defines the order,
Voidward shines the suns of perdition.
Yetzer Hara - Yetzer Hara - Yetzer Hara
Victor or vanquished,
What defines loss?
Twisted in irony;
Encroaching manifest destiny.
The sick divine glory,
[In] infinitesimal trappings
Weaponize the ages.
The Faustian pact is all that the ground may give back.
And bound by it‘s own gaze, was lost and all that the sun made was cast on their iron graves.
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3. |
Areopagitica
07:34
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Madness makes a man, and [it is] what breaks him,
Like a shadow unto which no light may ever shine.
Time flees, though eternity dwells,
Yet “the very truth he holds becomes his heresy.”
A most righteous act of rebellion,
By right of twisted virtue,
The sun is not so bright to itself as to those on whom it shines
Time flees, though eternity dwells
Yet “the very truth he holds becomes his heresy.”
The just war must be decided, but the chorus will not come.
And cast in their crooked smiles is narcissism masking as virtue
Some truths are worth it for their own sake,
But they will cannibalize their own before they let the heretic be heard.
You may never cheat this mountain.
The just war must be decided, but the chorus will not come.
And cast in their crooked smiles is narcissism masking as virtue
Some truths are worth it for their own sake,
But they will cannibalize their own before they let the heretic be heard.
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4. |
The Snare of the Fowler
09:53
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Man - like earth - both flower and decay.
Tyrants and men of ideals feign the black-eyed children.
'Till plight and injustice wakes this earth
To galvanize them to sacrifice and abnegation;
ripe are the fools and the damned who have longed for a promised land.
In the heap of temptations, hope would mark the ruins.
"The tree of knowledge is not that of life.“
And so he grinds his own hands,
Where there was never justice for all.
There is a stain of perspective in those expiring eyes.
When he mines his own helm,
And serves for the greater glory.
[And now they] arm the angels,
Bedevilled by our lesser judgment.
And another man will die;
It is practically what he is here for.
And they will fly their flags at half mast
As if this would imply justice.
Never pitied, they will make this mistake again.
And again - the damned deny the ages,
and the greatest of ironies:
Our enlightenment would rise;
And with it, the vileness of man.
"The tree of knowledge is not that of life.“
And so he grinds his own hands,
Where there was never justice for all.
There is a stain of perspective in those expiring eyes.
When he mines his own helm,
And dies for the greater glory.
It is seldom the days in the dark,
When he defines his own hell.
But in the violent wake of the wise
Where the rabid dog dies.
Taring at the roots, where the rats beckon asunder.
"Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler; and the noisome pestilence.“
But men are left disturbed, yet again.
It is seldom the days in the dark,
When he defines his own hell.
But in the rotted wake of the light,
Where the parasite dies.
There is no redemption arc in the record of eternal truths.
Just an endless sequence of cross-currents
to the terminus of all paradises lost.
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5. |
Pascal's Wager
08:00
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"The words of one of my favourite poets, Ernest Dowson are quite often with me, "Non sum qualis eram / I‘m not as I was.“ And though I know as well as you do that there is no point in arguing about the actual date or time of departure because I‘d like to think there would be no good time - I hope you‘ll agree with that. Something I urgently thought I ought to do or say - and one mustn‘t supine or give into self-pity about that, but at this moment I have to say, I feel very envious of someone who is young and actively starting out in this argument. In the meantime, we have the same job we‘ve always had; which is to say - as thinking people and as humans - that there are no final solutions, there is no absolute truth, there is no supreme leader, there is no totalitarian solution that says if you will just give up your freedom of inquiry - if you will just give up - if you will simply abandon your critical faculties, a world of idiotic bliss can be yours. We have to begin by repudiating all such claims; grand rabbis, chief ayatollahs, infallible popes, the pedlars of surrogate and mutant quasi-political religion and worship; the dear leader, the great leader, we have no need of any of this. And looking at them and their record, and the pathos of their supporters, I realize that it is they who are the grand impostors, and my own imposture this evening was mulled by comparison. Thank you very much.“
- The Last public speech by Christopher Hitchens (1949-2011)
There is a guilt reserved for that fearful day,
In great denial, I will say no more.
I will reserve that shame for the thieves and whores,
In great denial, I will say no more.
There is a silence that comes eventually,
In great denial, I will say no more.
There is no longer a reason to laugh,
But what do you have to lose when you’re pissing into the wind?
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PANZERFAUST Toronto, Ontario
Panzerfaust is the boot stamping on a human face forever.
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