sábado, 3 de febrero de 2018

Salve Discordia! (SMILE Guerrilla)







































"Be extreme!
Be extreme!

Once upon a time there was a garden 
A garden was destroyed by a word 
Destroyed by language 
Language became the first memory 
Time was set in motion at this point 
But the garden did not exist within time or language 
It was an exterior neural projection 
A cathedral that worshipped its occupant 
And that was your soul 
Your soul 
Your soul 
The only thing you've got 

And your soul, well, it represented the mind 
The mind at preset without light 
And there was nothing to reflect, no mirrors, no shape 
Nothing to fix this particular dream 
And you've got no anchors 
You don't know where you are 
You don't know whether you are really existing 
Or whether you've blown everything 
And you've got to become a star 

Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 

We have formed sounds, made names 
Trapping matter with language 
We perpetuate our tyranny 
And drown in a flood of speculation 
And false communication 

Do you want to be reborn, immortal, outside of time? 
Come on, child 
Come to me 

We must look for ways to transmit infinite alternative realities 
And then maybe you have a choice of reality 
You want to stay alive 
You want to stay alive 
You don't really want to die 
So make it real 
Make whatever is real 
More real than anything emasculating 
That we inherit 
Oh, you have not yet been corrupted, have you? 
Trivialized, have you? 
Lost in belief, have you? 
Oh, you are in our singularity 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 
Nothing matters but the end of matter 

Every inherited construct, every society 
Every techno-patriotic political system 
That trades a trade unions off believing 
It exists 
It exists 
But it must be destroyed 
As fast as it's possible 

You know, we make 
We make space 
Make space to be space 
Memory is a clock 
It's the ageing mechanism of your mind 
You can change it 
You can turn it back 
You can set the alarm 

Memories tell us one thing, this thing must go 
Memories tell us one thing, this thing must go 
Memories tell us one thing, this thing must go 
Memories tell us one thing, this thing has to go 
Come on! 

Must believe 
Must believe 
Must believe 
Must believe 

Are you listening well? 
Names are given in order to control 
Names are given in order to control 
Listen carefully 
To reduce, to comprehend the forces of nature 
To demonstrate ownership 
And failure 
This is the race to come 
This is the race of the greyhounds of the future 
The greyhounds of the future 
The race to name 
The race to name strategy 
Strategy 
The poor have grown to be rich 
And the rich have grown to be poor 
Again 
Know that to re-enter immortality 
We must ourselves become unnameable" 

(GENESIS P. ORRIDGE)

Iglesia del Surf del Cristo Risueño de la Costa LTD. MMXVIII ©

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