iside

just the title.

@@@@Decline@@@ why do you speak badly of one of my second cousins?

what a drag the track by track...

OR ELSE YOU LIVE LIKE RECTANGLES.

Of sharks that are never satisfied
-Always present, always more powerful, always more disgusting
-It’s the empire of the mobsters.
-If I were God
-I would shout that at this moment
-It’s precisely them that evoke our dismay.
-Serious and respected men
-So normal and yet so shameless
-So confident within their empires
-A caress for the children, a caress for the dog
-That if you don’t look closely, they seem like people
-Good people who daily
-Slay others with such coldness
-That Hitler, in comparison, seems tender.
-If I were God
-I would cry out that these terrible buboes
-Are now within our institutions
-And indeed, the rot I mentioned
-Has matured among the counselors, the magistrates, the ministries
-In the Chamber and in the Senate.
-If I were God
-I would say that we are either complicit or dim-witted
-That these delinquents, these vile carcasses
-Don’t even hide their shame
-And are on our screens every day
-Displaying their wax masks with a smile
-And they all seem against the filthy black stain.
-There isn’t a single one who isn’t entangled
-Because the black stain
-Is the State.
-And so if I were God
-I would say that all the premises are in place
-To anticipate the day of the Apocalypse.
-With a delightful indifference
-And my usual distance
-I would like to see the world and all its people
-Slowly sink into nothingness.
-Maybe I, like God, like the Creator
-Shouldn’t even say these things
-I, as the Almighty, shouldn’t concern myself
-With violence or horrors or war
-Nor with all the idiocy of this Earth
-And similar matters.
-Too bad that even God
-Has His own hell
-Which is this eternal love
-For mankind.

Non gestiamo frasi cosi' lunghe. [DeBaser Staff]

You truly have a kindness,
- A bit daft in old age.
- But how good you are, embracing the world
- And everyone flaunting your charity.
- For the forests, for the dolphins and the dogs
- For the little plants and the canaries
- A man today has so much love in reserve
- That he wouldn’t even dream of it
- It makes one say
- But then, how can he be so cruel to his kind.
- If I were God
- I would say that my most beastly anger
- That hurts me and drives me to madness
- Is your fake commitment
- Is your hypocrisy.
- I know that to save face
- To put on a guise of righteous and humane citizens
- You create pedestrian crossings and then odd services
- And many other attentions
- For handicapped, deaf-mutes, and dwarfs.
- And in these great cities
- Bursting into chaos and filth
- A little piece of grass makes quite an impression
- And so much space for all the children of lesser gods.
- Dear councilors, dear sly altruistic tricksters
- Who use the unfortunate with great pomposity
- But I know that deep down in your heart you’d like to throw them
- From the Tarpeian Rock.
- But I am not yet in the kingdom of heaven
- I am too entangled in your messes.
- If I were God, I would first curse the journalists and especially all
- Who certainly are not good people
- And whenever you catch them, you always catch them well.

If I Were God by Giorgio Gaber - 1980
If I were God
-
If I were God-
And I could even be-
If not, I don’t see who could be.-
If I were God, I wouldn’t let myself be fooled by the crafty ways of people-
I wouldn’t be an amateur-
I’d always be present-
I’d really be everywhere, spying-
Or even better, criticizing, indeed-
What people do.-
For example, the so-called common man-
How boring he is-
He never commits major sins-
He’s never intensely sinful.-
After all, poor thing, he’s too miserable and petty-
And even knowing that God is the most perfect computer-
He thinks that the tiny mistake-
Is either not seen or not counted at all.-
That’s why if I were God-
I’d prefer the last century-
If I were God, I’d regret the ancient fury-
Where they loved, and then hated-
And killed the enemy.-
But I’m not yet in the kingdom of heaven-
I’m too entangled in your messes.-
If I were God-
I wouldn’t have saved up-
I would have made a better man.-
Yeah, alright, I admit it-
It hasn’t turned out that great-
And that’s why, to preach what’s right-
I sometimes get rid of a few
-but then people like to interpret
-and it makes even more chaos.
-If I were God
-I wouldn’t have made the mistakes my son made
-And especially regarding love
-I would have explained myself a bit better.
-In fact, you mortal men for trivial things
-For bullshit like compassion and fake help

Big Brother is listening! They are frightening because they kidnap men they don't even know and do it on behalf of others: judges, directors of asylums and Nazi prisons, scientists, secret agents, communists. They can do whatever they want with me, but I keep thinking that all of them are just one gang of monsters, just like Christians, Jews, pacifists, Buddhists, ecologists, Satan's ass worshippers, Indian princes who used to beat old horses to death, and everyone else who always represents something else, never their own desperate self.
I look at the moon through the trees and see the millions of human beings who are my companions on this earth, but how can I distinguish them if they have just one expression? How the hell can I understand their words if they don't speak? How the hell can I tell the earth from the sky if they keep shifting them? I have changed; the world hasn’t.
Here around me, in the silence, everything pronounces its true name—why not men? Why not the filthy banks that use my money to finance wars, science fiction research, and that money isn't mine? Why not the completely mad scientists who fly into space like vultures? Why not the Catholic Church that tonight, December 24, '95, renews its power over the world? Why do I feel detached from the earth and far from the sky with chains of gold at my feet? Millions of men who all together are a single fat and unbalanced animal with skin of aluminum, no muscles or bones—only the bone of the heart that doesn't understand that the new world exists beyond every state and politics, government and religion.
And how to tell the truth about oneself without feeling lost—BLUES FAUSTO ROSSI.

There are men who touch money as if it were energy,
men who lose their true voice very early in life,
who speak of things they have never seen in their lives,
millions of men whose (other men) have destroyed their bodies,
modified dreams, possessed consciousness
in exchange for artificial light.
Men who worship science as if it were God and name God as if it were true,
and have entrusted their bodies to the magical power of universal information.
Men hiding under a flag,
and like children, betray themselves and others out of fear,
who watch television for only 5 minutes a week,
and for this, they feel better than other men,
but still, they cannot end it.
Men who speak of art as if it were nature and look at nature as if it were a painting,
men who defend Yugoslavs, Indians, Puerto Ricans, Africans, Indians,
so they let them die.
There are young men who enter 'social centers' as if they were a church.
And I don’t understand them.
Old men who cry abandoned and die alone everywhere in the world,
but there is really nothing we can do.
Men who talk about soul, reincarnation, spirit,
and they don’t even know what the hell they are talking about.
Men who detest this society and already have their new rules ready,
but they will have to use weapons as always.
There are millions of men who have lost their reason out of fear of loneliness,
the loneliness that oppresses,
the loneliness that expands the mind,
the loneliness that is the melancholy of all the consciousness of the body,
the loneliness that is a streak of blood on one’s own door left by the angel in the night,
the loneliness that humiliates power and makes its idols crawl at my feet one by one,
the loneliness that is the power of the body, natural light, and the need for love,
the loneliness that is stopping being afraid,
the loneliness that is the end of the kingdom of God.
Everything on this earth is kept under control:
machines, men,
millions of human beings locked in prisons and asylums,
in Milan like Tehran, Los Angeles, Johannesburg, Cuba, Japan,
and we cannot save them.
Each of us can attempt to save himself.
There are men who constantly worry about others' wars,
thus hiding their own war inside each of them.
Men who sing words whose meaning is the death of imagination,
who play ethnic music because in their veins flows the blood of missionaries,
merchants, and soldiers, and like them, they think of a new world order.
Men who invented the word 'art' through which they control and divide
human beings, invent catalogs of emotions, and produce holy wars.
Art, whose concept belongs to those who created it,
to those who own fiercer weapons and broader power.
You will have to fight to establish yours, and it’s no joke.
Men who have invented mental illness, psychiatrists, people who treat brains
on behalf of the government, and to prove it, they have destroyed the brains of
millions of human beings, and thus invented drugs and drug addicts.
Madness, psychotropic drugs, invent good and evil and keep under
control every plant or flower present on this planet, and they have invented
a single possible mind. And then you become incurable.
Intellectual men who spend time rummaging through each other's pockets,
men who collaborate with the government while reading newspapers, listening to the radio,
watching television, playing with computers.
Men who talk about deadly tobacco
and not a word about the radioactivity it contains.
Men who wear uniforms, weapons in their pockets, and instill fear because they have absolute power,
because there are millions of them all over the world, and they have the best weapons,
and they all agree because they are an organized army to defend
the heart of the 'great machine.' The masses of people open up when they pass
with their high-speed sirens, and then the wings close in silence.
No one can speak; Big Brother is listeni