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about

The unavoidable biological limitations of the work force — evident both in its dependence on the natural cycle of sleeping and waking and in the debilitating effects of irreversible time over each individual’s lifetime — are treated by the modern production system as strictly secondary considerations. As such, they are ignored in that system’s official proclamations and in the consumable trophies that embody its relentless triumphant progress. Fixated on the delusory center around which his world seems to move, the spectator no longer experiences life as a journey toward fulfillment and toward death. Once he has given up on really living he can no longer acknowledge his own death. Life insurance ads merely insinuate that he may be guilty of dying without having provided for the smooth continuation of the system following the resultant economic loss, while the promoters of the “American way of death” stress his capacity to preserve most of the appearances of life in his post-mortem state. On all the other fronts of advertising bombardment it is strictly forbidden to grow old. Everybody is urged to economize on their “youth-capital,” though such capital, however carefully managed, has little prospect of attaining the durable and cumulative properties of economic capital. This social absence of death coincides with the social absence of life.

lyrics

Machine arms wrap around you, generating a sense of warmth
And by the conveyer belt they’ve painted pictures of childhood
It’s so easy, it’s so simple
Close your eyes or they’ll be closed for you
Inch by inch, one by one
One by one

Machine voices sing you to sleep, machine tears on your neck
As they’re broadcasting a 3-d image of your birth
And it’s so easy, it’s so simple
A prayer, a pill, a porno flick
As we get picked off, one by one
One by one

Eternity is what we’re after
Eternity is what we’re against

Machine hands place a flag on the window sill
With enough flags you can cover the sky
And it’s so easy, it’s so simple
We built this world and we can rip it up, inch by inch, one by one
One by one

Eternity is what we’re after
Eternity is what we’re against

credits

from Awaken Necropolis, released August 23, 2010

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Baby Killer Estelle Washington, D.C.

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