Tag: jamesreindeer

jeremiah iv : 23-27

i beheld the earth, and, lo, it was waste and void; and the heavens, and they had no light… i beheld the mountains, and, lo, they trembled, and all the hills moved to and fro… i beheld, and, lo, there was no man, and all of the birds of the heavens were fled… i beheld, and, lo, the fruitful field was a wilderness, and all the cities thereof were broken down at the presence of the lord, and before his fierce anger… for thus saith the lord: this whole land shall be desolate; yet i will not make a full end…

– jeremiah

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fear incantations from the western lands no.3

surveillance drones sail high above the demilitarised-zone… insect buzzing behind insect eyes, following the nazca line blast-wall corridors circling the green zones… checkpoints, defence forces, border patrols, la migra… machine guns and flashlights out across the swamp-lands, desert lands, over the hazy moonlit delta… wheeling bodies into the pit,  clouded in cement dust; creeping existential panic…

a hostile world, slowly rendered meaningless, one which no one any longer truly understands… systems expanding and contracting; deplorables, carcinogens and pharmaceuticals… guerrillas storming the lobbies, black helicopters hovering over downtown, five percent nuclear war; game theory statisticians clawing at the disparate data strands as superstructures buckle under the weight of a thousand detuned mass dampers…

fear incantations from the western lands… controllers, operators, mannequins, idiot boys, doomed girls; decay, collapse and burning body parts… cities of the brave new world in flames… throwness, lostness… fire-bombing, carpet-bombing… child soldiers bleed out on field hospital folding beds…  embedded reporters lying to themselves as the tanks roll in like doomed centipede columns… tyranny, war, mind-games… coup, putsch, junta, regime change…

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blood-letting and the virgin bride no.3

new jerusalem measured in cartesian geometry as technicolor fears and lucid doubts swarm with distortion out through the rusting valves… agony in the welding pit, turmoil on the shop floor… grand visions of staged reality built on a beautiful lie, now flooded with polluted ideas and strewn across fields of unexploded ordnance…

life as a series of bland background entertainment shows; live on stage ideologies… ritual blood-letting of  the virgin bride… policemen in parallel lines, idiot-boys, wild-girls… conflict, starvation, agony, meaninglessness… the screens steadily flickering through the cerebral cortex, psychotropic trips in an ongoing noise-field of paranoia and isolation…

centuries of self-harm… glass and steel monoliths rising from the desert in the dawn’s early light…  jagged knives against the city sky… greasy fingers plying their trade over mahogany tables; insatiable lust of the pension-funds… a figurehead in flames, captains of bled-out industry; tea dances and ballroom masquerades… this earth no longer sacrosanct…

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war reports from new jerusalem no.3

here is the new jerusalem, the glorious inhuman rite… dead insect eyes staring out from endless grave-sites… fields of nothing, forever, the policeman inside our head choking us to death… water-torture, terrorise; ambivalence in waves… steadily reducing civilisation to nil…

the children were conditioned to kill, the authorities cower in fear; pissing themselves in pits of corrupt sins… those games from the old-world battles and wars justified once again; a requiem of infernal sodomy… dancing demons in the oil-pools; diabolical suicide pacts, mass graves, mass genocide…

the governments served as theatre props, the guise of order, systems in place… operators pushing buttons, reacting to the flickering lights… no one understanding, no one in control… the poison keeps on coming, business-blood inside the veins… money-hunger drip-feeding power games…

dream-death scar the broken, primal screams inside the war zone… sleep-death covers the fallen… innocents chopped to pieces by the war machine… four per cent growth, cheap white goods and nazi-trump crusaders… pain incantations, nausea, salvage… fake it, fuck it, fight, fight, fight…

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fear incantations from the western lands no.2

fear incantations from the western lands… a world rendered meaningless that no one any longer understands… controllers, operators, mannequins, idiots, deplorables… wheeling bodies into the pit, clouded in cement dust; carcinogens, pharmaceuticals and body parts…

cities of the arabic world in flames… throwness, lostness, decay, collapse… fire-bombing, carpet-bombing, surveillance drones glide above the war-zone… blast-wall corridors demarcate the green-zone…

game theory statisticians, five percent nuclear war, child soldiers turned to mincemeat out in that rawest field… embedded reporters pissing themselves as the tanks roll in like doom centipede columns…

creeping existential panic, tyranny, war, mind-games… coup, putsch, junta, regime change… taste the metal on your tongue as each freedom is slowly chipped away… bite the bullet, baby… bite the bullet…

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