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The Voyage (Canto I)
by
Blood Axis
on
The Gospel Of Inhumanity
(1995) samples
A Clockwork Orange
(Stanley Kubrick,
):
[film music] Move along there! [whipping] Move along. [whipping] Move along there!
Herr, Nun Lass In Frieden
by
Blood Axis
on
The Gospel Of Inhumanity
(1995) samples
Charles Manson
(Charles Manson,
):
And he lost his brotherhood. That's the reason that thing fell off the bottom of that gun. He lost his swastika and he lost his brotherhood from lying. Cos he thought it was a big joke to stab somebody in the back that just took a life for him. If somebody's giving their life for you and they're going into the battlefield for you, you can't very well laugh at them when they come back. If a man's over in Vietnam and he's over there in the mud and the blood and he's fightin' and dyin' for you and then you come over and you spit in his face, what kinda fuckin' country could that be? You see what I'm sayin'? Does that make sense?
Yeah, yeah.
You know, so it's the same thing all the way down the line. All the way down the line that, uh, uh, people think it's slick to get over on somebody else because they're in a down position, and they find their strength by, by sacrificing their own lands. But they're not sacrificing the lands of their enemies. They're only sacrificing their own children. They're sacrificing their children for somebody else's children. My grandfather told me this. He didn't tell me exactly, but he told my grandmother and I know she'd never lied. She told me, he told my grandmother that he was standing on a, in World War I, he was standin' on a dead body. And he, and, and he seen the Bible in this guy's pocket and he reached down and he got the Bible out of this guy's pocket. And he opened up the Bible and there was the man's picture with his wife and his two, three children, ya dig? And he had a chain with a cross on it, and he looked at the Bible and he looked at the man's children and he looked at the cross and he looked down and he seen himself. He said, Wow man, what am I doing fighting my brother? I'm over here fighting my brother and I don't even know why I'm fighting this guy, ya dig? Why have we been fighting each other? Why are we divided? Why is our house all split up in little pieces? Why are we divided within ourself? We worship the same god, we have the same book with the same words. Different translations, but the same principles, same codes of honor. Why in the Hell are we fightin' each other? Why did my grandfather kill himself? He comes back and tells my grandmother, you know, I was fighting my brothers and I don't even know why. And they didn't know why. And you want me to tell you why?'
They'll ride on ya. They'll ride on ya 'til there's nothin' left of ya and sell your blood all the way.
The Voyage (Canto I)
by
Blood Axis
on
The Gospel Of Inhumanity
(1995) samples
Pasolini intervista: Ezra Pound
(Pier Paolo Pasolini,
):
Thus with stretched sail, we went over sea till day's end./Sun to his slumber, shadows o'er all the ocean,/Came we then to the bounds of deepest water,/Covered with close-webbed mist,unpierced ever/With the glitter of sun-rays/Nor with stars stretched, nor looking back from heaven/Swartest night stretched over wretched men there./The ocean flowing backward, came we then to the place/Aforesaid by Circe./Here did they rites, Perimedes and Eurylochus,/And drawing sword from my hip/I dug the ell-square pitkin;/ Poured we libations unto each the dead,/First mead and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour./Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death's-heads;/As set in Ithaca, sterile bulls of the best/For sacrifice, heaping the pyre with goods,/A sheep to Tiresias only, black and a bell-sheep./Dark blood flowed in the fosse,/Souls out of Erebus, cadaverous dead, of brides/Of youths and of the old who had borne much;/Souls stained with recent tears, girls tender,/Many men, mauled with bronze lance heads,/ Battle spoil, bearing yet dreory arms,/These many crowded about me; with shouting,/Pallor upon me, cried to my men for more beasts;/Slaughtered the herds, sheep slain of bronze;/Poured ointment, cried to the gods,/To Pluto the strong, and praised Proserpine;/Unsheathed the narrow sword,/I set to keep off the impetuous impotent dead,/Till I should hear Tiresias./But first Elpenor came, our friend Elpenor,/Unburied, cast on the wide earth,/Limbs that we left in the house of Circe,/Unwept, unwrapped in sepulchre, since toils urged other./Pitiful spirit
from the first of his