martedì 5 luglio 2011
The Cries of the Carrots!!! The Cries of the Carrots!!
(allora: ho due rubriche di Stefano e la doppia recensione di The Room da pubblicare, ma non c'ho per niente tempo. Mi dispiace: lo farò, appena sarò lucido abbastanza. mi dispiace per i lettori abituali o occasionali, ma è un periodaccio, in termini di tempo ed energie a disposizione - e sì, anche in altri termini. Comunque, cercherò di pubblicare quanto arretrato entro i prossimi giorni. A metà luglio ci sarà l'oroscopo dell'estate di Cinzia e dopodiché direi che chiuderò battenti per l'estate. L'idea sarebbe di scrivere e disegnare, quest'estate: ci rivedremo poi.)
(per ora, beccatevi questa classica traccia nascosta - pezzo 66 di Undertow, 1993, se non vado errato - che io stesso non ascoltavo da un sacco di tempo, e leggetevi il testo, che è carino, soprattutto la prima parte mi fa sempre un sacco ridere)
And the angel of the lord came unto me, snatching me up from my place of slumber. And took me on high, and higher still until we moved to the spaces betwixt the air itself. And he brought me into a vast farmlands of our own midwest. And as we descended, cries of impending doom rose from the soil. One thousand, nay a million voices full of fear. And terror possesed me then. And I begged, "Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?" And the angel said unto me, "These are the cries of the carrots, the cries of the carrots! You see, Reverend Maynard, tomorrow is harvest day and to them it is the holocaust." And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat like the tears of one million terrified brothers and roared, "Hear me now, I have seen the light! They have a consciousness, they have a life, they have a soul! Damn you! Let the rabbits wear glasses! Save our brothers!" Can I get an amen? Can I get a hallelujah? Thank you Jesus.
Life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on........
This is necessary.
It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch. You looked up at your sky then. That made blue be your color. You had your knife there with you too. When you stood up there was goo all over your clothes. Your hands were sticky. You wiped them on your grass, so now your color was green. Oh Lord, why did everything always have to keep changing like this. You were already getting nervous again. Your head hurt and it rang when you stood up. Your head was almost empty. It always hurt you when you woke up like this. You crawled up out of your ditch onto your gravel road and began to walk, waiting for the rest of your mind to come back to you. You can see the car parked far down the road and you walked toward it. "If God is our Father," you thought, "then Satan must be our cousin." Why didn't anyone else understand these important things? You got to your car and tried all the doors. They were locked. It was a red car and it was new. There was an expensive leather camera case laying on the seat. Out across your field, you could see two tiny people walking by your woods. You began to walk towards them. Now red was your color and, of course, those little people out there were yours too.