Art is subjective yet objective. It is the paradox of itself. That which is common lends grounds for detest; that which is uncommon lends grounds for scorn.
Yet the Superman is one who lives dangerously (spandex optional); he is the one who walks on tightrope, who has, as a calling, taken danger to be part of his life. And it is him, who is set apart from the Ultimate Men, who have made the world small, who *feels* life, who sees it, who breathes it... Agonisingly, fleetingly, and ultimately, joyously.
I desire not small irritance; I desire something grand. I wish not to forget; I wish to both forget and remember.
And so, it is with much fire that I wish to leave for this land... I wish for it fiercely, strongly, and with ardent desire.
This land is something that will make me say, "I have lived, and I will live through it again and again, without any hesitation."
This land has been divided into parts; its unemployment rate is high; its ruins are rampant; bums are on the street - it is the place that I want to be.
Someday.
Without it, there is no reason to live. I say this the way a surgeon would when he dissects his own tumour - in pain, yet with realisation that most would never have the courage to summon.
1001, and it is Xmas too. Thank you.
And here is a song that, upon listening to, word for word, has brought me to tears. SONG DOWNLOAD HERE:
s2.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1IQ…Dalai Lama [1]
Lyrics ©2004 Rammstein.
Ein Flugzeug liegt im Abendwind
An Bord ist auch ein Mann mit Kind
Sie sitzen sicher sitzen warm
und gehen so dem Schlaf ins Garn
In drei Stunden sind sie da
zum Wiegenfeste der Mama
Die Sicht ist gut der Himmel klar
Weiter, weiter ins Verderben
Wir müssen leben bis wir sterben
Der Mensch gehört nicht in die Luft
So der Herr im Himmel ruft
seine Söhne auf dem Wind
Bringt mir dieses Menschenkind
Das Kind hat noch die Zeit verloren
Da springt ein Widerhall zu Ohren
Ein dumpfes Grollen treibt die Nacht
und der Wolkentreiber lacht
Schüttelt wach die Menschenfracht
Weiter, weiter ins Verderben
Wir müssen leben bis wir sterben
Und das Kind zum Vater spricht
Hörst du denn den Donner nicht
Das ist der König aller Winde
Er will mich zu seinem Kinde
Aus den Wolken tropft ein Chor
Kriecht sich in das kleine Ohr
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind gut zu dir
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind Brüder dir
Der Sturm umarmt die Flugmaschine
Der Druck fällt schnell in der Kabine
Ein dumpfes Grollen treibt die Nacht
In Panik schreit die Menschenfracht
Weiter, weiter ins Verderben
Wir müssen leben bis wir sterben
Und zum Herrgott fleht das Kind
Himmel nimm zurück den Wind
Bring uns unversehrt zu Erden
Aus den Wolken tropft ein Chor
Kriecht sich in das kleine Ohr
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind gut zu dir
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind Brüder dir
Der Vater hält das Kind jetzt fest
Hat es sehr an sich gepresst
Bemerkt nicht dessen Atemnot
Doch die Angst kennt kein Erbarmen
So der Vater mit den Armen
Drückt die Seele aus dem Kind
Diese setzt sich auf den Wind und singt:
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind gut zu dir
Komm her, bleib hier
Wir sind Brüder dir
Translation ©2004 Jeremy Williams.
An airplane is in the evening wind
On board is a man with his child as well
They sit secure and warm
and so they fall into the trap of sleep
In three hours they will be there
for mama's birthday [2]
The view is good the sky is clear
Onwards, onwards into destruction
We must live until we die
Humans don't belong in the sky
So the lord in Heaven calls
his sons to the wind
Bring me this human child
The child has still lost time
Then an echo jumps to his ears
A muffled rumbling drives the night
and the driver of the clouds laughs
He shakes the human cargo awake
Onwards, onwards into destruction
We must live until we die
And the child says to the father
Don't you hear the thunder
That's the king of all the winds
He wants me to become his child
From the clouds falls a choir
which crawls into the little ear
Come here, stay here
We'll be good to you
Come here, stay here
We are your brothers
The storm embraces the flying machine
The pressure falls quickly in the cabin
A muffled rumbling drives the night
In panic the human cargo screams
Onwards, onwards into destruction
We must live until we die
And to God the child pleads
Heaven take back the wind
Bring us unharmed to earth
From the clouds falls a choir
which crawls into the little ear
Come here, stay here
We'll be good to you
Come here, stay here
We are your brothers
The father is now holding onto the child
and has pressed it tightly against himself
He doesn't notice its difficulty in breathing
But fear knows no mercy
So with his arms the father
squeezes the soul from the child
Which takes its place upon the wind and sings:
Come here, stay here
We'll be good to you
Come here, stay here
We are your brothers
[1] The Dalai Lama is the most powerful figure in the Gelugpa or Gelug sect of Tibetan Buddhism. The current one, Tenzin Gyatso, is also afraid of flying.
[2] The word "Wiegenfest" is used, which is an old word for "birthday", but literally translated would be "cradle celebration".
Note: The song is at least partially based on the poem "Erlkönig" which was written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe in 1782.