Sunday, June 29, 2008 :::
 

#Kulturzik#




















The door stands open
Across lines, invisible hands are held, golden streamers building in the night.
Alone, the possibilities are enormous.
Step outside and parasites, deprived of their meat, wait to suck on tiring flesh,
Unending statistics that fatten leaders, prisoners of their morality.
Afraid of death, we cannot save ourselves.
To breathe is not enough.

(...)

Words sometimes don't seem to mean much;
Of anyone we've used more that most.
Feelings from the heart that have been distorted and mocked,
Thrown around in the spectacle, the grand social circus.




















Television is today's Nuremberg.
Bowing to its authority, they become it.
I've seen four years old children conforming to media roles
Main-lining the gross theatre that will become their lives.
The television has so dampened people's anger.
The population is mesmerised by the flickering screen
And the streets, where the politics of reality were once created,
Are deserted at night and the rulers sleep secure.
They are under no threat as long as the people are sedated.
Those who suffer headaches from excessive intake of electrons are prescribed valium,
Or pay for a fix at the pub where men have to piss up the wall
And the stench of urine lasts well into the next pint.

Entertainment is designed to gloss over real problems
And very often those who profess dissent only add to the deception.
Words are banded about, but always at the whim of the puppeteer.
Actionless sloganeering is just another Punch and Judy show.

Any information that we receive concerning the real world is carefully controlled,
Why else would fiction have such licence?
We are allowed to see endless theatrical deaths,
But when the real deaths started on the Falklands
Government censors prevented us from seeing them.
We were given the excuse of 'National Security'
By the lying shits who were interested only in saving their political skins.
It didn't matter a fuck to them how many died
As long as their popularity ratings didn't suffer,
For that reason alone we were shielded from the truth.
While the real violence is kept from us
We are exposed to constant pantomimes of death and destruction.
Those in power are rightly aware that if we had access to the real facts
We would cease to be simply passive observers.
Media coverage of Viet Nam created massive dissent in the U.S.A.
Thatcher's government was aware of that when, embarking on the Falkland charade,
They refused press cards to anyone who they knew would not support their line.




















It is easy to dismiss those who seek peace as dreamers,
But isn't our whole culture built on past dreams?
It is essential that our dreams become a reality
Or there will cease to be one.


















We look through one eye hoping the other won't see,
That way we only need deal with a half of it.
Like bloody ostriches, oblivious,
Not because we are, but because we choose to be.
Most people see through the lies
But are too afraid to admit it.
It's so much easier to be the passive observer.
How much longer can people afford to just sit by like this?
All the indications are there.
Massive unemployment,
Recession, depression.
But who's looking? Who cares?
Tamely the population is being led down the road to total bondage.
Government is daily strengthening its powers.
Those who stand against it are ridiculed,
Discredited or abused and punished.
Those in power are totally cynical.
Rather than analysing the seriousness of the problem
They simply strengthen the army and police to combat it
They are ready for the inevitable response.
It happened in Brixton, Toxteth and Moss Side.
It happens daily in Northern Ireland.
Under Thatcher's regime there has been massive increases in police brutality.
In London police shot down a man
Only to find it was the wrong person.
We regret to inform you. Regret to inform you.
Regret to inform you. We regret to inform you
That today another Christ was shot in the back of the head.
We regret to inform you. Regret to inform you,
That another Christ, not yet ten years old, was shot today,
By agents of Her Majesty's Government, with a plastic bullet.
They say that plastic bullets were designed not to kill,
They do.
I say that human beings were not designed to kill, not us, not me;
We do.
We regret to inform you.

Crass - Yes Sir, I Will.

(One squaddy, horrifically burnt in the Falklands War, was approached by Prince Charles during a presentation. "Get well soon" said the Prince, to which the squaddy replied, "Yes Sir, I will".)

Labels: Anarchie pour les briques, gauchisme, kulturzik, Punk, Résistance

::: posted by Tranxenne at 9:01 PM

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