i see a bus passing by on a talk show with pool houses

Then I stand in the psy­chi­a­try staff room and say, you are all my sec­re­taries for the Hor­ta Spir­i­tu­al Steel Company

Then they say I’m on board with your sto­ry.… but.
It’s the one that’s both­er­ing me, of course
And which “but” I al­ready had prob­lems with in 1999

Then in 2004 a white dove flies in somewhere
and I say “a dove shits” ‘yes but’

it does­n’t seem to oc­cur to any­one that that a dove also FLIES

If I say yes but this and that, of course most peo­ple don’t want to hear about it and THEY DIG DEEP­ER AND DEEP­ER INTO THEIR NEST NO NO NO NO NO NONE OF THAT

And in do­ing so, my world only be­comes more top­i­cal and that world that is op­po­site to it is only more desperate
some peo­ple want all ve­hi­cles to be tak­en out of Bel­gium in one fell swoop and so that they can only dri­ve in circles
Which prob­a­bly all those peo­ple are think­ing by now.
 

it’s not YES BUT you can’t change that
IF ANY­ONE CAN DO THAT IT WILL BE WITH MY IDEAS

Along with space trav­el, where peo­ple have poured en­tire fleets of space tech­nol­o­gy into games and cars, and built en­tire bios­pheres as train stations

What is also ev­i­dent from these song lyrics and oth­er analyses
IT IS OB­VI­OUS that I HAVE CARTE BLANCHE to do what I want with that world
THERE’S NOTHING
AND IT ONLY GETS WORSE

What world, if I give up my world, will we face? Any ideas?
 

If you ever stop and see all the cars dri­ving in cir­cles, you might no­tice it too

Maybe it will be an­oth­er five years be­fore Bol turns 15 and I can ex­plain the world to him in a few min­utes and he tells the oth­er children
What I’m say­ing is that they’d be pulling their noses if they find out THEY? WHO? did­n’t want to pub­lish me and I’ve been stand­ing up for aes­thet­ic and eco­log­i­cal ideals for twen­ty years.

Then they will also get very an­gry and ask if twen­ty years of rub­bish re­al­ly had to be stored there and there was no oth­er way?!
 

What I am propos­ing now is that this should be looked at constructively
That I’m not be­ing fed in my cell and the walls around me go yes yes sur­plus of right and then to the world oh yes what a strange guy.

Some­thing’s not right.

Then I say to Di­eter De Grave: “Hegel was wrong, it’s not if one doesn’t do it, the oth­er will”

If I don’t do it, no one will

then it says NO

If I say yes, gar­den furniture.

Owh you can do that for­ev­er, it says

NO I say NO.

I see a bus pass­ing by on a talk show with pool houses

owh i know those people

NO

Owh those knights are but “boutades”
“boutades” he cold­ly calls it. 

Well, if there is no fu­ture or his­to­ry, if you also take away all the mu­sic that mil­lions of peo­ple lis­ten to and that re­late to it.

It’s just a bit mud­dled, is­n’t it?

With which I set up every­thing for “syn­the­sis” as it is called.

So it won’t work with­out me

Not with­out my man­i­festo, mythol­o­gy, chess, the­o­ries about na­ture, kitsch, classical
art, con­cept, in­dus­try, min­i­mal­ism, ecol­o­gy, space travel

There will be oth­ers who you might all rather get rid of?

But some­one’s go­ing to have to do it.

Do you re­al­ly think that the sev­en bil­lion are such an in­sur­mount­able task?
that they are so full of health and mind?
 

What do you think will hap­pen if I drop dead tomorrow?

Oh his son

And what hap­pens to the cars that keep go­ing in circles.

Is it go­ing to be so much bet­ter with­out me?

What should Bol do?
What should the youth do?
Build­ing garage box­es all your life and then maybe at the end of your ca­reer some­thing orig­i­nal for yourself?
Can those chil­dren even smell or see those lessons?
 

So I sug­gest we move on
that we all take mat­ters into our own hands
that you don’t ig­nore me or lie be­hind me
like Nao­mi says
JUST CHILL
And con­tin­ue to build your nest, let me do my job.
 

I’ve al­ready met ten who could take on the eco­log­i­cal restora­tion of the planet

Math­e­mat­i­cal­ly there are ex­treme­ly trag­ic peo­ple who see noth­ing in this and do not see a future

They will be deep­er and much more serious.

So I’m set­ting it up in Art Nouveau.

What do you propose?
I want to hear it?
A big­ger ghetto?

Wat do Tom Van Grieken And Bart De Wev­er pro­pose with their Per­ri­er com­mer­cials mhmm?

Just a flam­boy­ant fig­ure, then that all re­solves itself?

SLAY­ER GOT FIFTY TWO MIL­LION VIEWS
noth­ing here re­mains no fu­ture and no past?

BART DE WEV­ER WILL FIX IT WITH TWO MIL­LION FLEM­ISH PEOPLE????
CRA­DLE OF FILTH THERE IS EIGHTY MIL­LION GOTH­ICS THERE

fail­ing hu­man­i­ty that we will rule?
Bart De Wev­er will rule a fail­ing humanity?

230 on Mar­i­lyn Manson???
Sweet Dreams are made of this?
Any­one got sweet dreams?

1 BIL­LION ON BIL­LIE EILISH

don’t tell me i did­n’t warn you?
Any­one was warned now you say?
 
 

yes, you were do­ing pret­ty good, con­sid­er­ing the circumstances
 

When Ni­et­zsche says, Great peo­ple suf­fer great­ly, small peo­ple suf­fer in small ways

that I am then stopped with light stop words from light souls like
“they are work­ing on that”
“every­one only thinks about money”
“the world is dull”
“i find that so boring”
“he is go­ing to ex­plore the world”
OF A CON­CEP­TU­AL CUBE AND THEN? INTO WHAT????

“Every­thing is what every­one thinks about it.”
AND WHAT DO YOU THINK???

“Oh yes, you want to build palaces” Oh well, you can’t do any­thing about that.

THAT’S LIGHT
YOU HAVEN’T SUF­FERED LIKE ME
SO KEEP ME INTACT
YOU WILL NEED ME
what I do is not JUST something

as by­ron says as a sybille risen out of the ocean as I state in my man­i­festo, that is not JUST ANYTHING

that is re­al­ly plucked out of mis­ery and melan­choly and oh and yes but have noth­ing to do with it ON THE CONTRARY

al­l­l­l­ll my projects, WILL BE REALIZED
 

PROOF
A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD
I WANT MY LIBRARY
AN­OTH­ER FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD
THE MA­TRIX IS CRUM­BLING GET TO IT
CASE CLOSED

thats ALL there saying
AND THATS ALL THE TRUTH TO IT
THATS ALL I NEEEED TO HEAR
TRUTH

not lies,
back­stab­bing sub­jec­tiv­i­ty, rel­a­tiv­i­ty, it’s just that it’s just this
your world is al­ready built
this world of the rel­a­tive and the owh it’s just that
mine is still in the pipeline CLEARLY

AND IT’S MAGNIFICENT?
IT’S BE­YOND COMPARE
AND YOU SAY AWH WELL? GIVE US OUR DEAD FU­TURE AND PRESENT BACK OR WHAT????
 

And be­cause you don’t con­cern any of that,
and that goes in one ear and comes out the other

if you give me no choice

then i will also do a shit move like you are well aware of how that goes

That of the heat­ing sys­tem is again typ­i­cal of your approach

I wouldn’t have done that myself

lied to the land­lord that I didn’t have heating
then I would have paid fifty Eu­ros extra

Now I can get hold of the land­lord and say that you had lied and that I didn’t want to at all

And then I’m in a very good po­si­tion with the landlord
50 Euro CAN STILL BE TAK­EN OFF FOR ME

I won’t send you to psy­chi­a­try if you build an en­tire barn a me­ter too high against the ur­ban plan­ning rules or cheat with the meters

But I have to be in psychiatry???
For what?
To burn candles, 

I ac­tu­al­ly hear that’s what they told me here, that’s what you said to psy­chi­a­try be­hind my back

for pulling out pipes, ex­cuse you also pulled out pipes for me, and I got rid of a pipe be­cause it was in the way of my drawing

’Cause I get rid of junk that was on the door

I can paint it and fre­pair it

IM DO­ING IN­TE­RI­OR DECORATING
THAT IS MY JOB
LET ME WORK
 

Set­ting up plates properly.
Re­pair­ing a win­dow that was bro­ken by the neighbor
I’m build­ing a pure world, not crammed with su­per­flu­ous gyproc.

I’m not al­lowed to paint on the wall HERE

I AM NOT AL­LOWED TO DO REN­O­VA­TIONS AT HOME to a stu­dio that serves that purpose??

I’LL DO THE INTERIOR
YOUR INTERIOR

I DE­SIGNED A SIS­TINE CHAPEL AND VAT­I­CAN AND ST. PETER’S
THAT’S ALL GO­ING TO BE BUILT, THE ST. PETER’S AT THE END OF THE BOOMSESTEENWEG

SO LEAVE ME THE DÉ­COR, YOU KEEP YOUR­SELF BUSY WITH WHAT­EV­ER ELSE YOU THINK EXISTS?????
 

ONCE AGAIN
sculp­tors work for the Gam­ma and serve you and pro­vide ALL the junk that peo­ple can stock up?

AND we are then stopped from putting our works IN front of the cash register,
oh no, I don’t want to see that here????

Peo­ple would be tempt­ed to do every­thing more ar­ti­sanal, more sim­i­lar, more aes­thet­ic, AND more ecological???
 

You know what you need­ed me to teach you?

That my world is more im­por­tant than yours and your van­i­ty and your sub­ject in­duced selfishness

and my kids world is more im­por­tant than mine.

But he can’t be­tray me for this, for hav­ing done this
no one can.

You all owe me.
I’m the mid­dle man here
I suf­fered the whole road
and i’m about to retire
at my conditions
and he had it easy, you had it easy.
I didn’t have it easy.
 

The Ab­sur­di­ty. THAT YOU ARE, is just in my league.
BUT I FIT TOOOOO IN THIS WORLD
THE AB­SUR­DI­TY THAT I AM, IS JUST IN YOUR LEAGUE
IT FITS
 

you’re not just go­ing to wipe me out of the picture
for your dead fu­ture you don’t care about
thats why it’s dead.
you DO NOT CARE.
 

where is the Goethe,
his moth­er, that i read about in Art Nou­veau books? The grand­est and most en­light­ened soul ever to have lived on this planet

For the world
you will be my stepmother
and i killed your son.

and took his place.

And no one will re­al­ly know
i’ll give the world the option
you can imag­ine what they will believe.

When every­thing is out.
No one will be quite sure if you are my step­moth­er or my moth­er or not.
No one will know any­thing for sure
just walls of perception
what you see with the naked eye
some memories
thats about all you can know.
 
 
 

You can find me in the gos­sip pa­pers soon if you call it quits
and read about me when you sit on the toilet.

ITS GO­ING TO BE MY CONDITIONS
WITH MY VIR­GIN ARMY SHOOT­ING YOUR PHO­TOG­RA­PHERS LEGS IF THEY DON’T PUB­LISH EX­ACT­LY HOW I WANT TO BE SEEN????

I’ll be on your news very soon.
But talk­ing to your politi­cians or pop­u­lar writ­ers or tv stars
damn that’s go­ing to be ODD??!

WITH SOME 3000 i won’t say what they are, di­rect­ly in my foot­steps???? I AL­READY EX­PE­RI­ENCED THEM. THREE THOUSAND?!
AND THEY DON’T BACK DOWN ONCE
THREEEEEETHOUSAND
AL­WAYS WALK­ING BE­HIND ME
ALWAYS
AND THAT’S GUAR­AN­TEED TO EXIST.

we make a very odd cou­ple you could say.
but i know they are there
i al­ready seen it pass by so many times
Mathematically.

All the res­i­dents of my build­ings EXIST.
 
 
 
 

all these bands and cult movies are of a valu­able much more valu­able psy­chol­o­gy then mod­ern news or just this just that sports and a nice package
maybe bet­ter look at those (again) be­fore you think to dis­card some changes to the decor
OF ECO­LOG­IC AND ES­THET­IC NATURE
which is what mil­lions of peo­ple be­low are work­ing on.
 
 
 

SATYRI­CON
Su­per­son­ic Jour­ney 07:50
          A ro­tat­ing sil­ver­col­ored plateau, drops that dance down the columns
Blue, cold and the rag­ing starwind
glow­ing col­ors at fear­ful speed
in­dis­tinct pic­tures of prophets and vi­sion­ar­ies in a galac­tic fog

in out­er space on an axis

In an­oth­er re­al­i­ty on a su­per­son­ic journey

in­evitably he can see it, the lights are go­ing out and he knows
if he just could make us understand
In the empti­ness there is noth­ing that can draw the pic­ture you want
just a still­born child on hands that fumble

Rag­ing, rag­ing at in­com­pre­hen­si­ble pace
the col­ors blind­ing, the plateau falls in out­er hell
The dis­close that we had to die… We pit the hand that fed us

in out­er space on an axis

In an­oth­er re­al­i­ty on a su­per­son­ic journey

Is this what is yet to come, or a mad­man’s re­flec­tion of the soul?
As when his heart cried out in pain when he per­ceived what
bur­dens we were to bear
 

SATYRI­CON THE SCORN TORRENT
Break down all con­ven­tion­al forms and cre­ate chaos to rein­vent order
Rebel against all cir­cles and dead ends
fight your way with your mind set on the masses
ex­e­cute with me­chan­i­cal aggression
ar­ro­gance and extravagance
march on unapproachable
shut out the out­side pressure
or are you too weak?
when shall they see the real darkness?

In a world where our jus­tice is re­placed by mercy
… mer­cy for the inferior

The ser­pen­t’s mael­strom is al­ready here
just wait­ing to be unchained
so feed the fire with the vile and let sin­cer­i­ty rule
why can’t you see that the ar­moured hos­tile aura is meant to keep
you away in all your pri­mal simplicity
(it seems like) fright pro­cre­ates the down­fall of the mind
such a sin is­n’t it… the stag­na­tion of it all

You must col­lect your in­stru­ments of battle
and pro­tect, to eman­ci­pate that which lives with­in you

Rebel against the chains
Break down the em­bod­i­ment of your pain
At­tack with ro­bot precision
Rise and Shine un­der Wings of Divinity

Now pick me up night and whirlwind
and let me ride with you
to peace of mind and noth­ing to Rebel
 

CRA­DLE OF FILTH EM­PIR­I­UM TENEBRARUM
Swords in hand at the bloody fields of history
We rend our blades through dog­ma and humility
Carve the fu­ture ac­cord­ing to our will
Set worlds ablaze with our seething fire.

Let you all ac­knowl­edge that we are here
As mas­ters to rule this fail­ing humanity
Our be­ings formed in rage and defiance
With strength to tram­ple the weak and the foolish.

And so we march with burn­ing brands
Tem­ples of flame on our path to glory.
 

THORNS VOR­TEX
Vor­tex 06:44
          My eye is the vor­tex from which noth­ing escapes
I am de­ma­te­ri­al­iza­tion of the self
I am the axis in the wheel of reincarnation
The end­less singularity

I turn the spi­rals of existence
I am the slow­ing pace of life
I am the pulse of creation,
of in­evitabil­i­ty and destruction

I bal­ance the shift­ing tides of life
Every­thing must re­turn to me

I am the beginning
and I am the end
 

SATYRI­CON
Re­pined Bas­tard Na­tion 05:44
          Do we need an­oth­er bas­tard nation…
an­oth­er force-fed disgust
Do we need an­oth­er bas­tard nation…
aim­ing at us clinically
Like an insect-swarm
to­wards the shape­less mouth
of a dead whore
We need the spir­it, the voice, the an­gel of light
aris­ing from melt­ed mass
We need the spir­it, the voice, the an­gel of light
tak­ing in­vin­ci­ble shape
to stand­ing ovation
Re­pos­sess­ing night and her hand’s god­ly touch

The un­bear­able feel­ing of hit­ting that
dark wall is a scene that must come to an end

Earth­ly de­cay in front of our eyes
Now, now it’s killing for a living

No more re­pined bas­tard nation
A gen­er­ous ges­ture to a peo­ple so blind
No more re­pined bas­tard nation
fum­bling, de­scend­ing, away from the light
It takes a non-poi­soned creature
to with­stand a mon­ster that has grown and spawned,
a dark­ness, I can not tolerate
A dark­ness we must bury
Do they feel, do they ab­sorb our pain…
the search to jus­ti­fy one truth
Do they feel, do they ab­sorb our pain…
the greater understanding

It takes a non-poi­soned creature
to de­feat and de­stroy a monster,
that has grown and spawned
a dark­ness, a dark­ness we can not tolerate
 

SATYRI­CON
Black Lava 14:31
          Grey heav­ens, no light shed
Bleak day, change is ahead
Oval moun­tain­side, naked cold
Un­re­leased pow­ers, no fright

Slide down sor­row, smell what comes with the breeze
Cold cham­bers, pun­ish­ment awaits
Hol­low tone haunts, an­tic­i­pa­tion’s choir sings
Turn around, face the depth of in­ner sanctum

Au­tumn in the air, (the) smell of Black Met­al 90–95
World moves, in mys­te­ri­ous ways
Body on­wards, mind drifts
You die, then we hail (to our relief)

New age dawns
Face all wrath
Sick­ness; won’t understand,
Burn­ing first
Grace falls
Vol­cano shaking
Fates are be­ing sealed

Heav­ens blunder,
no turn­ing back
Will you or will you not
to hero­ism walk

Black Lava, drift­ing down the mountainside
Black Lava, you can’t fight

Per­ni­cious flow, re­demp­tive perpetuity
Un­holy dri­ve, the gods ar­ro­gant grin
If my world’s a joke, do you see them smile?
Hell­bound me — on a throne of gold

Waste­lands prey on dy­ing cattle
Desert sucks on poor man’s thirst
Glimpse of glo­ry, walk ahead
Slaves of Nazareth, can not be fed

Black Lava, drift­ing down the mountainside
Black Lava, you can’t fight
 

SATYRI­CON
With Rav­en­ous Hunger 06:40
          Who made de­ceit into the ul­ti­mate award?
Who told you, you’re not poisoned?
I see the snake coil­ing in­side you
I see the ven­om in your eyes

You can’t stab me, or even touch me
You can’t be­tray me, it’s just an illusion
I built the pain in­side you
I spawned the snake

It will grad­u­al­ly tear you apart
It will eat you from inside
No longer sweet revenge
No longer emo­tion­al triumph
Pity you, led to be­lieve (in own willpower)
Pity you, (rest­ing) on with­ered laurels
Can’t you see, the world’s on fire…
Can’t you feel, you’re get­ting burnt!

There’s a day com­ing, for me to rip and to rape
There’s a win­ter com­ing, for you to be swallowed
Swal­lowed by emo­tion­al cold
Swal­lowed by a pow­er much greater than yourself

Who made de­ceit into the ul­ti­mate award?
Who told you, you’re not poisoned?
I see the snake coil­ing in­side you
I see the ven­om in your eyes

You can’t stab me, or even touch me
You can’t be­tray me, it’s just an illusion
I built the pain in­side you
I spawned the snake
 

SAMAEL
Cer­e­mo­ny of Op­po­sites 04:39
          The top be­comes the bottom
The fan­ta­sy be­comes reality
The con­cep­tions change
The land­marks dissolve

And all be­comes intermingled

To flirt with the despicable
In a trance with­out end
Where the ice burns

Like glow­ing embers
And where one shatters
By fits and starts of sperm
The morale of men

Serve an­oth­er god
Lose an­oth­er dream

Sen­ti­ments im­prison and leave
Their vic­tims with­out defence
Love is a poi­son which
Flour­ish­es in the heart of the weak

From the low­er world we direct
The at­trac­tion of the distasteful
Makes us ig­nore the vile
Since only from below
Can one bet­ter see the heights
 

SAMAEL TELEPATH
          What could one pos­si­bly say
To some­one who ig­nores his way
Who’s nev­er been touched by grace
How could one even­tu­al­ly express
All the ten­sion, all the stress
That can’t be read on his face
All the peo­ple that one met
All the peo­ple that one left
They en­rich, they develop
What one’s got to reach the top
Be­ing a sum of experiences
Giv­ing life the consistence
Know­ing de­tails makes differences
En­ter­ing a heart of existence
Tune your mind to the right channel
Things get played at a high­er scale
Go mem­o­rize the frequency
Is­n’t it phenomenal
Don’t you think it’s magical
The elec­tric storm of ecstasy

Ride the wind, take on your destiny
You got­ta get much higher
Fly your flight, get over society
The world is far much bigger

Noth­ing is impossible
Noth­ing is unreachable

Tune your mind to the right channel
Things get played at a high­er scale
Go mem­o­rize the frequency
Is­n’t it phenomenal
Don’t you think it’s magical
This elec­tric storm of ecstasy

Fear’s got no place around here
What we see, what we hear
For­mat our comprehension
The un-thought, things we ignore
All the puls­es and all the more
Wait to reach our perception

Spread your con­sis­tence to oth­er teritory
Your vi­sion’s gonna get much clearer
When the hunt is over parts meet in sympathy
World peace is get­ting nearer…
Spread your con­science to oth­er teritory
Your vi­sion’s gonna get much clearer
When the hunt is over parts meet in sympathy
World peace is get­ting nearer…

Noth­ing is impossible
Noth­ing is unreachable

What could one pos­si­bly say
To some­one who ig­nores his way
Who’s nev­er been touched by grace
How could one even­tu­al­ly express
All the ten­sion, all the stress
That can’t be read on his face
All the peo­ple that one met
All the peo­ple that one left
They en­rich, they develop
What one’s got to reach the top
Be­ing a sum of experiences
Giv­ing life the consistence
Know­ing de­tails makes differences
En­ter­ing a heart of existence
Noth­ing is unreachable

Ride the wind, take on your destiny
You got­ta get much higher
Fly your flight, get over society
The world is far much bigger

Noth­ing is impossible
Noth­ing is unreachable
So.…
 

DARK CITY
          Come in
How is he
Same
Kaminski
It’s me Frank
Come in Frank
Close the Door
I have been look­ing through some of your old reports
its an in­ter­est­ing case
kind of make a man’s career
or break it
yeah I was on that case
and then what
what hap­pened then eddy
noth­ing hap­pened frank
I been spend­ing time in the subway
rid­ing in circles
think­ing in circles
there is no way out
I been over every inch of this city
your scar­ing your wife to death eddy
she is not my wife
I don’t know who she is
I don’t know who any of us are
what makes you say that
you think about the past much Frank
As much as the next guy
see I have been try­ing to re­mem­ber things
clear­ly re­mem­ber things from my past
but the more I think back the more it all starts to unravel
its like I been dream­ing this life
and when I wake up i’ll be some­body else
some­body to­tal­ly different
you saw some­thing did n’t you, some­thing to do with the case
there is no case
there nev­er was
its all just a big joke
its a joke
 

In The Mouth Of Madness
it does­n’t leave you much to be­lieve in
think of the upside

It does­n’t leave you much to be dis­ap­point­ed in either
Be­lieve me the soon­er we are off the plan­et the better
now you sound like Cane

No not me You are the Cane lover

I just like to be scared, Cane’s work scares me
well,
what’s to be scared about its not like its real or anything
well its not real from your point of view
and right now re­al­i­ty shares your point of view

what scares me about Cane’s work, is what might hap­pen if re­al­i­ty shared his point of view

wowowow
we are not talk­ing about re­al­i­ty we are talk­ing about fiction
it’s dif­fer­ent, you know

a re­al­i­ty is just what we tell each oth­er it is,
sane and in­sane could eas­i­ly switch places if the in­sane would be­come the majority

you would find your­self locked in a padded cell
won­der­ing what hap­pened to the world

it would­n’t hap­pen to me

well it would if you re­al­ized every­thing you knew was gone
it ‘d be pret­ty lone­ly be­ing the last one left
….
 

do you want to know the prob­lem with places like this
with re­li­gion in general
it’s nev­er known to con­vey the anato­my of horror

re­li­gion seeks dis­ci­pline through fear
yet
it does­n’t un­der­stand the true na­ture of creation

no one has ever be­lieved it enough to make it real

the same can not be said of my work

your books aren’t real

but they sold over a bil­lion copies

I’ve been trans­lat­ed in eigh­teen languages

more peo­ple be­lieve in my work then be­lieve in the bible

you have a point?

I think you know it
there has to be some kind of an ex­pla­na­tion for what I have seen tonight

there has to be some kind of a sim­ple fuck­ing explanation

al­ways look­ing for the con

even now you’re try­ing to rationalize

Any­way, your books suck.

You must try read­ing my new one
the oth­ers have quite an effect

but this one will dri­ve you ab­solute­ly mad
so i’m told
it will
the world is ready for the change

it takes its pow­er from new read­ers and new believers
that’s the point, belief

when peo­ple have be­gin to lose their abil­i­ty to know the dif­fer­ence be­tween fan­ta­sy and reality.
…
 

You are what I write

like this town
it was­n’t here be­fore I wrote it
and nei­ther were you

no,
I know whats real
I know what I am
and no­body pulls my strings
 
…
I’m not a piece of fiction
I think there­fore you are
read it if you don’t be­lieve me

see what I have in store for you

I know what I am
go back, your world lies be­yond that passage

go now
I can’t hold them back any longer
 
 

NEV­EREND­ING STORY
          If you come any closer
I will rip you to shreds

who are you
I am gmork

and you who­ev­er you are, have the ho­n­our of be­ing my last victim

I will not die eas­i­ly, I am a warrior
hahh brave war­rior, then find the nothing

but I can’t, I can’t reach be­yond the bound­eries of fantasia
ha­ha­ha­hah fan­ta­sia has no boundaries

that’s not true, you’re lying
fool­ish boy, don’t you know any­thing about fan­ta­sia, its the world of hu­man fantasy

every part, every crea­ture of it, is a piece of the dreams and hopes of mankind
there­fore it has no boundaries

but why is fan­ta­sia dy­ing then?
be­cause peo­ple have be­gun to lose their hopes

and for­get their dreams
so the noth­ing grows stronger
what is the nothing

it’s the empti­ness that’s left

it is like a de­spair, de­stroy­ing this world
and I have been try­ing to help it

but why
be­cause peo­ple who have no hopes
are eas­i­er to control
and who­ev­er has the control
has the power.
 
 
 

NET­WORK
          I don’t have to tell you things are bad
every­one knows things are bad

it’s a depression

every­body is out of work
or scared of los­ing their job

the dol­lar buys a nickle’s worth
banks are go­ing bust
shop­keep­ers keep a gun un­der the counter

punks are run­ning wild in the street and there is no­body any­where seems to know what to do and there is no end to it

we know that our air is un­fit to breathe and our food is un­fit to eat
and we sit and watch­ing our tvs and some lo­cal news­cast­er tells us that to­day we had fif­teen ho­mo­cides and 63 vi­o­lent crimes as if that is the way its sup­posed to be

we know things are bad, worse then bad, they are crazy

its like every­thing every­where is go­ing crazy
so we don’t go out any­more, we sit in our house
and slow­ly the world we are liv­ing in is get­ting smaller
and all we say is ple­asssse, at least leave us alone in our liv­ing room
let me have my toast­er and my tv and my steel belt­ed ra­di­als and I won’t say any­thing just leave us alone

well i’m not go­ing to leave you alone
I want you to get mad

I don’t want you to protest,
I don’t want you to riot, I don’t want you to write to your con­gress­man be­cause I would­n’t know what to tell you to write 

I don’t know what to do about the de­pres­sion or the Rus­sians or the crime in the street

All I know is that first, you’ve got to get mad

you have got to say i’m a hu­man being
god­damn, my life has value
 

so I want you to get up now
I want you to get out of your chairs
I want you to get up, go to the win­dow, and stick your head out

and yell
i’m mad as hell and i’m not go­ing to take this anymore

then we know what to do about the in­fla­tion and the Rus­sians and the crime
 
 
 

You have med­dled with the pri­mal forces of na­ture Mr. Beal
and I won’t have it
is that clear?

you think you mere­ly struck a busi­ness deal, and this is not the case
the Arabs have tak­en bil­lions of dol­lars out of this coun­try and now they must put it back

it is eb and flow
tidal gravity
it is eco­log­i­cal balance

you are an old man who thinks in terms of na­tions and peoples
there are no na­tions, there are no peo­ples, there are no Rus­sians there are no Arabs

there are no third worlds, there is no west
there is only one holis­tic sys­tem of systems

one vast and imane, in­ter­wo­ven, in­ter­act­ing, mul­ti­var­ied multi­na­tion­al do­min­ion of dollars

petro dol­lars elec­trodol­lars mul­ti­dol­lars re­ich­marks rings rubles pounds and sheckles

it is the international 

sys­tem of cur­ren­cy which de­ter­mines the to­tal­ly of life on this planet
that is, the nat­ur­al or­der of things today
that is the atom­ic and sub­atom­ic and galac­tic struc­ture of things today
and you have med­dled with the pri­mal forces of nature
and you will atone
am I get­ting through to you mr beal
you get up on your lit­tle twen­ty one inch screen
and how about Amer­i­ca and democracy
there is no Amer­i­ca there is no democracy
there is only IBM and ITT and AT&T and Dupondt, Dow, Union Car­bide, and Exxon

Those are the na­tions of the world today

what do you think the Rus­sians talk about in their coun­cils es­tate? Karl Marx?

they get out their lin­ear pro­gram­ming charts, sta­tis­ti­cal de­ci­sion the­o­ries min­i­max solutions
and com­pute the price cost prob­a­bil­i­ties of their trans­ac­tions and investments

just like we do

we do no longer live in a world of na­tions and ide­olo­gies mr Beal
the world is a col­lege of corporations
in­ex­ter­ob­ly de­ter­mined by the im­mutable by laws of business

The world is a busi­ness, Mr. Beal

It has been since man crawled out of the slime
and our children
will live, Mr. Beal

To see that
per­fect world
in which there is no war or famine op­pres­sion or brutality

one vast and ecumi­nacal whole income
for who’m all men will work to serve a com­mon profit
in which all men will hold a share of stock

all ne­ces­si­ties provided
all anx­i­eties tranquilized
all bore­dom amused
and I have cho­sen, you, Mr. Beal
to preach this evangel.

Why me?

be­cause you are on tele­vi­sion dummy
Six­ty mil­lion peo­ple watch you
I have seen the face of God
you just might be right, Mr. Beal
 
 
 
 
 

BLOOD AXIS REIGN I FOREVER
          I am the God Thor
I am the War God
I am the Thunderer!
Here in my Northland
My fast­ness and fortress
Reign I forever!
Here amid icebergs
Rule I the nations
This is my hammer
Gi­ants and sorcerers
Can­not with­stand it!
These are the gauntlets
Where­with I wield it
And hurl it afar off
This is my girdle
When­ev­er I brace it
Strength is redoubled!
The light thou beholdest
Stream through the heavens
In flash­es of crimson
Is but my red beard
Blown by the night-wind
Af­fright­ing the nations!
Jove is my brother
Mine eyes are the lightning
The wheels of my chariot
Roll in the thunder
The blows of my hammer
Ring in the earthquake!
Force rules the world still
Has ruled it, shall rule it
Meek­ness is weakness
Strength is triumphant
Over the whole earth
Still is it Thor’s-Day!
I am the God Thor
I am the War God
I am the Thunderer!
Here in my Northlands
My fast­ness and fortress
Reign I forever!
Reign I forever!
 
 
 

HOROLOGIUM LES­SON TO THE MEDIOCRE EL­E­GY TO THE WORTHY
          For­ev­er un­pro­duc­tive. You’ve noth­ing left to give. You’re just a con­sumer, with no rea­son left to live. In­nu­mer­able mass­es, that quiver and heave. Un­fleet­ing in their lungs, they con­tin­ue to breathe. Ground in hu­man­i­ty, you’re lost in the herd. I’ve learned all about you, from cat­tle and birds. Ob­serv­ing your move­ments. I study your game — dull rep­e­ti­tion, is your mid­dle name. The no­ble don’t both­er to sul­ly their cloth, with ob­ject of pity that feed and at­ro­phe. You’re fat and you’re ugly and nev­er too few, you’re feast­ing and fuck­ing just ru­ins the view. Snort­ing your co­caine and filthy es­tates, ??? and pow­dered pupils di­late. Life is a mat­tress, with you on your back. Invit­ing your deal­ers into the sack. It won’t last for­ev­er, and soon you’ll be wet — cause your boyfriend’s a gang­ster, or that’s what he said. Those three lit­tle chil­dren who’s fa­thers aren’t shared. Ad­dict­ed to sug­ar, their brains are im­paired. The po­lice want to seize them, they kick down the door. And when they find you, you’re dead on the floor. And none of us miss you, or re­mem­ber your face. And this morn­ing the world is a much bet­ter place.
 

          What is the op­po­site of the soul of a lion? The soul of a cow. For strength of in­di­vid­ual soul the her­bi­vores sub­sti­tute num­bers, the herd, the com­mon feel­ing and do­ing of mass­es. But the less one needs oth­ers, the more pow­er­ful one is. A beast of prey is everyone’s foe. Nev­er does he tol­er­ate an equal in his den. Here we are at the root of the tru­ly roy­al idea of prop­er­ty. Prop­er­ty is the do­main in which one ex­er­cis­es un­lim­it­ed pow­er, the pow­er that one has gained in bat­tling, de­fend­ed against one’s peers, vic­to­ri­ous­ly up­held. It is not a right to mere hav­ing, but the sov­er­eign right to do as one will with one’s own. Once this is un­der­stood, we see that there are car­ni­vore and there are her­bi­vore ethics. It is be­yond anyone’s pow­er to al­ter this. It per­tains to the in­ward form, mean­ing, and tac­tics of all life. It is sim­ply a fact. We can an­ni­hi­late life, but we can­not al­ter it in kind. A beast of prey tamed and in cap­tiv­i­ty — every zo­o­log­i­cal gar­den can fur­nish ex­am­ples — is mu­ti­lat­ed, world-sick, in­ward­ly dead. Some of them vol­un­tar­i­ly hunger-strike when they are cap­tured. Her­bi­vores give up noth­ing in be­ing domesticated.Such is the dif­fer­ence be­tween the des­tiny of her­bi­vores and that of the beast of prey Faced as we are with this des­tiny, there is only one world-out­look that is wor­thy of us, that which has al­ready been men­tioned as the Choice of Achilles — bet­ter a short life, full of deeds and glo­ry, than a long life with­out con­tent. Al­ready the dan­ger is so great, for every in­di­vid­ual, every class, every na­tion, that to cher­ish any il­lu­sion what­ev­er is de­plorable. The march of time can­not be halt­ed; there is no ques­tion of pru­dent re­treat or clever re­nun­ci­a­tion. Only dream­ers be­lieve there is a way out. Op­ti­mism is cow­ardice. We are born into this time and must brave­ly fol­low the path to the des­tined end. There is no oth­er way. Our duty is to hold on to the lost po­si­tion, with­out hope, with­out res­cue, like that Ro­man sol­dier whose bones were found in front of a door in Pom­peii, who died at his post dur­ing the erup­tion of Vesu­vius be­cause some­one for­got to re­lieve him. That is great­ness. That is what it means to be a thor­ough­bred. The hon­or­able end is the one that can not be tak­en from a man.
 
 
 
 
 
 

THORNS
Stel­lar Mas­ter Elite
          Mag­nif­i­cent crea­tures of glory
We’ve climbed down from the stars
To stand (shin­ing) be­fore you as idols
In splen­dor and perfection
Supreme lu­mi­nous beings
War­rior sons from the sky
Lu­nar born daugh­ters of pleasure
We are the tri­umph of creation
Star mat­ter shapes of power
Cast from the seed of the gods
As in­stru­ments of perfection
We are sov­er­eign­ty in flesh
Ra­di­ant race of pure beauty
Shaped per­fect­ly as the pa­gan beast
In el­e­gance we wel­come our future
As stel­lar mas­ter elite
Ah… in glory
Ah… we shine
Ah…
We rev­el in our time
We are sov­er­eign­ty in flesh
Ra­di­ant race of pure beauty
We rev­el in our time
As stel­lar mas­ter elite
 
 
 

 

—aey­lyeaelle ell­he de ellendeh

Flom­mist Aey­lyeaelle Ell­he De El­len­deh is a ne­oro­man­tic and neosym­bol­ist artist and philoso­pher, stud­ied sculpt­ing at The Roy­al Acad­e­my of Dec­o­ra­tive Arts of Antwerp Bel­gium, He de­cried ac­tu­al­ly hav­ing fall­en in love stand­ing be­fore the Psy­che of Leighton in Lon­don, hav­ing cried over the Sleep­ing Beau­ty by Suss­mann hell­born and hav­ing spir­i­tu­al re­li­gious af­fec­tions for the Sphinc Mys­terieux by Charles van der Stap­pen. Dec­o­ra­tive sculp­tor and Au­thor of a neosym­bol­ist mythol­o­gy on Kant­ian per­cep­tion, on the imag­i­na­tion, in­spi­ra­tion, art, deca­dence, es­thet­ics and pas­sion, hate, mis­an­thropy main­ly. Heav­i­ly in­flu­enced by Huys­mans A re­bours and Schopen­hauers refuge in art as Sades will to free erotics. He in­vent­ed the Eif­fel tow­er sev­er­al times the size of the cur­rent one in paris to launch trains into space in an art nou­veau way. He in­vent­ed can­dles on re­mote con­trol. He in­vent­ed a game of chess with over 200 pieces per play­er and in an en­tire­ly clas­si­cal and de­scent set­up. With a line of Bish­ops, an Army, an­gels, boul­ders, with tow­ers that need to be de­fend­ed for­ward to launch the boul­ders, with a court, and a high­er court with Elvin, Elvin King, Em­per­or, Em­press and vam­pire of melan­choly and a vam­pire le­gion. He is a self de­clared mad­man and of­fi­cial­ly de­clared in­sane by the state of Bel­gium deu to his ro­man­tic up­risals. De­sign­er and ar­chi­tect of the fu­ture city of Anae­htheana, which is best de­scribed as the most beau­ti­ful and lux­u­ri­ous place ever de­vised, with the con­crete bridges done again in mar­ble, a wild zoo where the high­way is now. And a for­ti­fied vat­i­can in­spired wall for a le­gion of Joans of Arc he is try­ing to call. Among that, he is call­ing upon all ar­che­types cur­rent­ly in cos­play goth­ic and mu­sic to build, among oth­er things, a Vam­pire Lane with goth­ic schools, goth­ic mu­se­ums and goth­ic lounges and palaces. And an Angh an­gel fortress. It is his one and only and fi­nal mis­sion to re­place all com­mer­cial bill­boards with ro­man­tic and aca­d­e­m­ic paint­ings. Etc … Copy­right © 2024 Aey­lyeaelle Ell­he De El­len­deh. Thomas Kinkade im­age swiped from.‬

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