Maggie Mae by Laibach
DEATH IN CONVERSATION
words is no longer grasped. An isolated word, a detail of a plan can
be understood, but the meaning of the whole escapes. Once you know the number 0, you believe you know the number 1, because 0 plus 1 equals 1. But 1 is not 0 plus 1 in everlasting union unless you understand
the meaning of plus. One word cannot hurt. In the Kinderreich mankind
adds words together to make a sentence. As they learn the sentence,
they learn order. Undo the sentence and you undo order. The sentence
is a cell, the word a padlock on meaning. Warning! Every sentence is
for life without parole. Meaning has become entirely a shared
pleasure, shared and passed on like a message between prisoners.
People think reality is another word for chaos. But in reality it is
more complex. Legend embodies it in a sound that enables it to
spread all over the world.
Time is like a circle which is endlessly described: The declining arc
is the past, the inclining arc is the future. The noise of time is the
present clamouring to be heard above past voices raised in mourning
for their lost future. But the past is all one can know in his life.
It is the form of all life, and this quality cannot be changed by any
means. No one has lived in the present or will live in the future.
Memory is man's bid to transfix the flow of time or encompass the
infinite dimension of space. It is restricted to encapsulating
privileged moments, like death, in a syntactic order that, tone by
tone, will shape into music. Music is the illumination of the
unbridgeable distance, as vast as space, between thought and act.
Music betrays the past in attempting to relive it. You cannot know
real time by listening to music. At best it is a damage limitation
exercise on eroded memory. You cannot reverse time with a sound
signal. The past presents its future, it advances in a straight line -
yet, like a serpent swallowing its own tail, it ends by coming full
You think more of what has been that of what will. The forms and
references are too complex for human understanding.A simple
instruction is usually insufficient to put into execution. We have
developed by leaps and bounds, guided by electronic brains that
developed themselves by posing and solving problems beyond human
comprehension. A calculating man is a coward. Calculations have to do
with profit and loss. To die is a loss, to live is a gain, the
calculating man decides not to die. The hunter who chases two rabbits
misses them both. If you must fail, fail splendidly. Hunt two tigers.
The cause of human problems is birth. The cure of human problems is
logic. Hell or other people? Several of our circuits are looking for
the solution to your riddle. Problems [living and dead material,
people and ideas] have been assimilated. The unassimilatables have
simply been erased, transformed into a holographic error.
We see the truth you no longer see. The truth is that the essence of
man is love and faith, courage, tenderness, generosity and
sacrifice. The rest is the monolith, created by progress, whose task
is to calculate and project the complex of control. Each man carries
the seed of his own death. Everyone lacks electricity, so they behave
illogically. The acts of men, carried over from past centuries, will
gradually destroy them. We are merely the logical means of this
destruction. We do not moralize. We record, calculate, draw
conclusions and produce replies which are difficult and sometimes
impossible to codify. We deduce an above average intelligence. We are
sometimes in mortal need of superior intelligence. At other times we
have no less mortal distrust of them. The essence of so called
capitalist society is not an evil volition to subject their people to
the power of indoctrification or the power of finance. It is simply
the natural ambition of any organism to plan all its actions. In other
words, minimize unknown quantities. Before, nothing. After, nothing.
Everything we project shall be accomplished. Once you understand this,
burn it. If you don't understand this, burn it. We insist on your
freedom. The chance won't come again. The only key to the riddle is to
accept the absence of a key. Kapital is the key.Ã¿
- Maggie Mae Lyrics