G.I.N.A.
presents
an AURORA production
Spiel!
as Antichrist
in
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
presents
an AURORA production
Spiel!
as Antichrist
in
THE COSMIC BARGAIN
or
Wie zu spazieren nach Hause?
A rock-operetta
by
Wie zu spazieren nach Hause?
A rock-operetta
by
Arranged & Performed
by
The Traveling College of Time Consciousness
(from New Jerusalem)
Starring:
(Helmut) Spiel! as 888
Gina (Blanca) as 803
Sir David O'Clock as 108
COUNTERREVOLUTIONARY PROPAGANDA CAMPAIGN
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
by
The Traveling College of Time Consciousness
(from New Jerusalem)
Starring:
(Helmut) Spiel! as 888
Gina (Blanca) as 803
Sir David O'Clock as 108
COUNTERREVOLUTIONARY PROPAGANDA CAMPAIGN
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
888
Letter to Brian Eno
July 25, 1990 AD
July 25, 1990 AD
Blumen für Dracula
Prelude
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1989
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
Prelude
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1989
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
ARCANUM
(Press Release)
(Press Release)
G.I.N.A. (Grosse Idealistische Naturschutz Arbeit) – casting agency of
the Overnational Socialist Party (Home of the Universal Refugee) – is
delighted to bring you the real Jesus Christ in a bulletproof cage, as
unpredicted. Performed by Spiel!, self-anointed leader of the living
dead, in the role of 888 (Angel of Revenge), the credited image is guaranteed
to anthropomorphize as authentically as meta-physically possible. The elevated
host will be exposed in solitary confinement behind a semi-transparent
window of his mobile cell only the outside can look in. He’ll act therefore to
invisible eyes like live on film. His anticipated appearance takes its due
place in the hectic environment of an interactive revue alternating from
improvised dialogues to choreographed duettes. Washing away the last frontier
between reality and fiction, this chef d’oeuvre of Osh, Author of all
Works of Art, will surely profit from the impeccable interpretation of the idea
staged by the emigrant troupe of TCTC (Traveling College of Time
Consciousness) – Transylvania-Tibet-New Jerusalem – under the watchful aegis of
their invisible producers.
The rolling cubicle wherein the exhibition happens is smartly devised to be transportable with an amazing ease on a permanent basis - no huger than a bus. TCTC is willingly destined to spend the rest of their existence on the road to nowhere, like gypsies from outer space with no permanent residence and citizenry designated, carrying the beast of Eden around the globe. Advertised as ‘THE COSMIC BARGAIN’ – in reference to the terrible dialogue between God and the Devil – the roving circus of apparent manipulation will candidly reanimate expressionist schemes of old-time side-gigs, overtly summoning the epic era of traditional burlesque. The functionalist fusion of incongruent elements – a landmark in the history of adult entertainment – is accurately calculated to create a perplexing ambiance of organized chaos, confusing the unbalanced spectator to an unprecedented degree. The abstract concept of the open theatre is a putschist cabaret at its core, simultaneously striving for cult following and mass popularity.
The blasphemous demystification of our culture’s principal icon will provide the profane vaudeville an inexhaustible source of controversy by itself. Yet behind its seductive façade, the interaction-packed demonstration of the devious antithesis is in fact an advertising stab of the Party’s unholy crusade against the nations divided by tongues. The perennial world tour of the act is planned to serve as an open cover-up of the Antichristian lobby’s electoral campaign opposed to both church and state. The ambitious operetta is indeed the Trojan horse of an overnationalist takeover without a gun shot. The Covenant of Peace.
The actual stage of the flying playhouse is a cube of stained glass with golden bars on eight wheels – a hexahedral wagon wherein the alleged Savior of the elect is kept hostage by Time, according to the storyboard. He’s been kidnapped in final need and lives in his luxury cage ever since, so in public as in private, exploited and transported like a mindless freak. Terrified of urban communication and jaded from the beauties of nature, the apathetic symbol of a homeless race – the soul of man in galactic exile – will express but utter disinterest and spiteful ignorance about the territory of his actual whereabouts. He is a mechanical puppet of the show perfectly identical with his message. He’ll never shroud behind the incognito of an image and won’t show any signal of discomfort with his evacuated status. It is in his contract that he may not break loose from his air conditioned coffin as long as alive. In the fake solitude of a collective peep-show, the naked thought will be watched like through the keyhole of his boudoir – in the intimacy of his dressing room transported centerstage. He’ll have to behave as before hidden cameras of constant surveillance. The interior of the symbolic cell should be holographically revised: a different décor every time quite up to the show’s local organizers. Only the wardrobe, also the producer’s choice, have to be materialized, and an emblematic dinner trolley kept as the sole steady prop in the background. This item will serve as a static buffet supplied with fresh desserts the eternal homeboy will regularly consume during the talkfest. Awakened in public by the stroke of midnight, the obscene actor will as well be drinking aromatized coffees and alcoholic beverages, smoking cigarettes and pot in chain, and taking various drugs as indicated on the daily schedule. Wearing the make-up of a resident artist, the junky monkey will be doing his potential best to act destructive and incomprehensible by all norms of a civilized society. Yet, he’ll never forget about his confirmed task of prognostic doomsaying about the final countdown to the end of the dark ages.
The rolling cubicle wherein the exhibition happens is smartly devised to be transportable with an amazing ease on a permanent basis - no huger than a bus. TCTC is willingly destined to spend the rest of their existence on the road to nowhere, like gypsies from outer space with no permanent residence and citizenry designated, carrying the beast of Eden around the globe. Advertised as ‘THE COSMIC BARGAIN’ – in reference to the terrible dialogue between God and the Devil – the roving circus of apparent manipulation will candidly reanimate expressionist schemes of old-time side-gigs, overtly summoning the epic era of traditional burlesque. The functionalist fusion of incongruent elements – a landmark in the history of adult entertainment – is accurately calculated to create a perplexing ambiance of organized chaos, confusing the unbalanced spectator to an unprecedented degree. The abstract concept of the open theatre is a putschist cabaret at its core, simultaneously striving for cult following and mass popularity.
The blasphemous demystification of our culture’s principal icon will provide the profane vaudeville an inexhaustible source of controversy by itself. Yet behind its seductive façade, the interaction-packed demonstration of the devious antithesis is in fact an advertising stab of the Party’s unholy crusade against the nations divided by tongues. The perennial world tour of the act is planned to serve as an open cover-up of the Antichristian lobby’s electoral campaign opposed to both church and state. The ambitious operetta is indeed the Trojan horse of an overnationalist takeover without a gun shot. The Covenant of Peace.
The actual stage of the flying playhouse is a cube of stained glass with golden bars on eight wheels – a hexahedral wagon wherein the alleged Savior of the elect is kept hostage by Time, according to the storyboard. He’s been kidnapped in final need and lives in his luxury cage ever since, so in public as in private, exploited and transported like a mindless freak. Terrified of urban communication and jaded from the beauties of nature, the apathetic symbol of a homeless race – the soul of man in galactic exile – will express but utter disinterest and spiteful ignorance about the territory of his actual whereabouts. He is a mechanical puppet of the show perfectly identical with his message. He’ll never shroud behind the incognito of an image and won’t show any signal of discomfort with his evacuated status. It is in his contract that he may not break loose from his air conditioned coffin as long as alive. In the fake solitude of a collective peep-show, the naked thought will be watched like through the keyhole of his boudoir – in the intimacy of his dressing room transported centerstage. He’ll have to behave as before hidden cameras of constant surveillance. The interior of the symbolic cell should be holographically revised: a different décor every time quite up to the show’s local organizers. Only the wardrobe, also the producer’s choice, have to be materialized, and an emblematic dinner trolley kept as the sole steady prop in the background. This item will serve as a static buffet supplied with fresh desserts the eternal homeboy will regularly consume during the talkfest. Awakened in public by the stroke of midnight, the obscene actor will as well be drinking aromatized coffees and alcoholic beverages, smoking cigarettes and pot in chain, and taking various drugs as indicated on the daily schedule. Wearing the make-up of a resident artist, the junky monkey will be doing his potential best to act destructive and incomprehensible by all norms of a civilized society. Yet, he’ll never forget about his confirmed task of prognostic doomsaying about the final countdown to the end of the dark ages.
*
Surrounded with a psych’o’delic carnival thrown by the given destination’s
resident elite in honor of The Golden Cage passing through, the tabloid spectacle
of unexpected conflicts will rock and roll between the main character and his
two versatile sidekicks forming the trio of VITAM &
SANGUINEM: a post-situationist triune of dramaturgic control.
Sir David O’Clock (108), impersonator of Time in the retroactive play, is featuring the captivating merchant of the Monster Messiah: the eventual owner of the misappropriated detainee kept alive and safe behind the bars as his most valuable merchandise. His main concern therefore is the marketability quotient. Half headhunter, half wizard, the itinerant barker of his superslave won’t restrain from adopting buffoonery’s most pathetic jests, and dictionary’s tritest superlatives, in selling out his profitable subject. Their atavistic antagonism is one of the Leitmotives of the transcendent psychodrama. Gratuitously promising prophetic augury and instant illumination, the crafty master of the odd ceremony will unceasingly push the indefinite limits of the disgraceful exposition, aggressively urging neutral onlookers to test the genuineness of the exhibitionist recluse for themselves. He is in charge to uphold the event’s high intensity against his client’s compulsive catatonia only distracted by outbreaks of tactless pathos. Routinely simulating the counterfeit enthusiasm of a greedy preacher, the engaged comedian will act as the promoter in panic of bankruptcy – urging the evening’s distressed star for more and more revelations. Teaching thus a memorable lesson on the divine business to the optional voters. Doing the arbitrary manager of the human comedy, the benevolent huckster will flaunt a staggering example of artificial intelligence, his manners vividly ranging from loud repetitions of irrelevant slogans to unscrupulous eliminations of statements considered endangering the outcome of the ballot. In case the worst should come to the worst, he’ll always have the final resort of sincerely apologizing for the candidate’s mistakes attributable to the demonic possession coming with the lackluster isolation.
Lieutenant Gina (803), in the fetishist uniform of the Brideship on the other hand, will – simultaneously – counteract as the mean dominatrix of the male center with objectively tainted love, much like a lion tamer. Emoting the neutral mediator between the Man and his public, her meritorious job is to dispel confusions arising from the mouth of the incarcerated leader and moderate the probable discontent of the instigated crowd with erotic intermezzos. In the bogus position of an independent dispatcher, she’ll have to take good care of keeping the verity intact from the consternation it may cause. Showing Arcadian trust in her delicate mission, she’ll correct the perplexed idol when he misunderstands questions of the fanbase, and won’t hesitate to protect the vulnerability of the raging lamb versus his bewildered audience. This moral opposition puts her in atavistic contrariety with unstoppable Time’s mercantile methods provoking reconciliation – contributing another element to the multiple discord. Beside all that and the concert, it’s also her stage duty to appease the recurring fury of her groom with tease or whip if necessary. Which, nevertheless, won’t wholly defend her from her love interest’s abusive paranoia turning ideological issues into marital arguments with an insane penchant. Although she is only a customized bitch in leather by depiction, in the praxis she’s a camouflaged officer of envy, daringly attempting to steal the show from the guys, claiming all the attention to her fairer sex.
Brief and well, the stand-up ritual camouflaged as a family drama ought to produce an atomic model of nuclear reincarnation’s fiery catharsis for the selected spectators. As a sublime metaphor of mass hysteria, the divinatory swindle will be insolently heralding the apocryphal gospel of the Word’s second coming in broken English.
Sir David O’Clock (108), impersonator of Time in the retroactive play, is featuring the captivating merchant of the Monster Messiah: the eventual owner of the misappropriated detainee kept alive and safe behind the bars as his most valuable merchandise. His main concern therefore is the marketability quotient. Half headhunter, half wizard, the itinerant barker of his superslave won’t restrain from adopting buffoonery’s most pathetic jests, and dictionary’s tritest superlatives, in selling out his profitable subject. Their atavistic antagonism is one of the Leitmotives of the transcendent psychodrama. Gratuitously promising prophetic augury and instant illumination, the crafty master of the odd ceremony will unceasingly push the indefinite limits of the disgraceful exposition, aggressively urging neutral onlookers to test the genuineness of the exhibitionist recluse for themselves. He is in charge to uphold the event’s high intensity against his client’s compulsive catatonia only distracted by outbreaks of tactless pathos. Routinely simulating the counterfeit enthusiasm of a greedy preacher, the engaged comedian will act as the promoter in panic of bankruptcy – urging the evening’s distressed star for more and more revelations. Teaching thus a memorable lesson on the divine business to the optional voters. Doing the arbitrary manager of the human comedy, the benevolent huckster will flaunt a staggering example of artificial intelligence, his manners vividly ranging from loud repetitions of irrelevant slogans to unscrupulous eliminations of statements considered endangering the outcome of the ballot. In case the worst should come to the worst, he’ll always have the final resort of sincerely apologizing for the candidate’s mistakes attributable to the demonic possession coming with the lackluster isolation.
Lieutenant Gina (803), in the fetishist uniform of the Brideship on the other hand, will – simultaneously – counteract as the mean dominatrix of the male center with objectively tainted love, much like a lion tamer. Emoting the neutral mediator between the Man and his public, her meritorious job is to dispel confusions arising from the mouth of the incarcerated leader and moderate the probable discontent of the instigated crowd with erotic intermezzos. In the bogus position of an independent dispatcher, she’ll have to take good care of keeping the verity intact from the consternation it may cause. Showing Arcadian trust in her delicate mission, she’ll correct the perplexed idol when he misunderstands questions of the fanbase, and won’t hesitate to protect the vulnerability of the raging lamb versus his bewildered audience. This moral opposition puts her in atavistic contrariety with unstoppable Time’s mercantile methods provoking reconciliation – contributing another element to the multiple discord. Beside all that and the concert, it’s also her stage duty to appease the recurring fury of her groom with tease or whip if necessary. Which, nevertheless, won’t wholly defend her from her love interest’s abusive paranoia turning ideological issues into marital arguments with an insane penchant. Although she is only a customized bitch in leather by depiction, in the praxis she’s a camouflaged officer of envy, daringly attempting to steal the show from the guys, claiming all the attention to her fairer sex.
Brief and well, the stand-up ritual camouflaged as a family drama ought to produce an atomic model of nuclear reincarnation’s fiery catharsis for the selected spectators. As a sublime metaphor of mass hysteria, the divinatory swindle will be insolently heralding the apocryphal gospel of the Word’s second coming in broken English.
*
The disharmonic operetta’s literary relevance is its bold attempt to challenge
the passivist subjugation of the Elohim’s unjust sentence by means of a mint
formula of protestant activism. The trialogue’s epitome is the revolt of logic
against the governing principles of common sense. It is about the syntactic
notion of the infinitive verb to re-introduce imperative mood in the tedious
sphere of multiplying conditionals that murder free thinking and the will to
passion. It ought to loudly denounce the evil trinity of the passing tenses
driving the immortal soul to nihilism and suicide. Mixing an intoxicating
cocktail from the fruits of pop, the undercover maneuver will gallantly spread
an astounding rumor all over the global village about the Great Vampire’s
updated comeback. As a typically uncategorizable form of heathen reproduction,
the virtual encounter beyond belief will operate as a forum of therapy and
education – an exorcist diversion praxis. The alchemical combination of secular
and sacerdotal – defined as “workship” by the initiate – will thereby
provide a superpowered vehicle to communicate the Law of new mores as redefined
by the overhauled Ten Commandos, which is the slapstick tragedy’s foremost
inclination.
The agitative subrealism of the mystic cabaret will militantly voice humanity’s heartfelt desire to regulate the stream of history disrupted by the polar forces of opposite attractions. Looking forward too in anger, it will offer absolute devotion to the Lord of Atheism alone, valiantly withstanding all temptations of the ephemeral present’s dying gods. Though presented as the theatrical release of a new testament, the event’s eventual symbolism is as trivial as can be: it is a satirical take on the resurgence of Adam in the shape of New Jerusalem (The City of Eden) – the amateur trash of a reality showcase making sacrilegious fun of the Holy Kabal. According to the unwritten script of the mundane mystery play, the target of the re-search is the lost Arc: the architecture of the Kingdom. The tragic hero’s self-imposed seclusion – a sacrificial gesture to illustrate the drama of creation – is meant to once and for ever unseal the secret about the bloody business of redemption and the human resources as its currency. Though the sublime taste of the animated dummy won’t permit him political stirs, he won’t recoil from pushing the end of decline, calling for a global civil war against the quantitative judgement whenever he gets exited in the lair of his one-man zoo.
The spectacles start precisely at the Zero Hour of the day. The exact duration of one classified act is 155,2 minutes. That makes eight rooms in New Style, each launched with a doctrinal folk song performed live by the performing unit on the chime of the decimal clock violently interrupting the course of the ongoing dialogue. The spoken segments’ improvised ambiance will thus be finely counterbalanced by the rehearsed tunes electronic discipline assured by the professional musicians and dancers accompanying. Albeit the individual actions do not have any particular theme or tendency, the chants will always coincide with the occasional topic like invoked accidents. The repertoire’s numbered anthems have no discrepancy whatsoever and do not follow any conceptual libretto: they will be picked by runes cast before each showtime. Yet, due to the occult convention’s inherent pact with improbability, every track is promised to sound like premeditated response edited by the unlimited hazard. The strictly measured verbal breaks between two numbers are also used for assisted changing of the costumes proper for the next ditty.
The futuristic stage of the informative varieté decorated with symbols, flags, and slogans will be built as a magic altar set to open a purified space for channeling the spirit of an interplanetary marriage. With Dream’s exploited power in the center between the wings of Life (Art Scene) and Death (Sex Scene), the black mass of a white wedding will gently endow its witnesses with the lasting sensation of an unholy communion. The parallel actions of guest performers joining the College on its trip for one special night will in no manner affect the subplot but will essentially enrich the atmosphere of the soirees each time unique in them static frame. The overall tendency of the manifestation is to generate its own genre beyond geography and climate, suitable for the instant recruitment of born-again drop-outs of the mortal majority. Our rock operetta is the elitarian plot of a homocentric conspiracy in the dark tunnel of the Bardo, publicized as an audio-visual scroll of the ancestral fable. Condemning compassion and patience, it is to advocate the pleasure of being and justice for all.
The agitative subrealism of the mystic cabaret will militantly voice humanity’s heartfelt desire to regulate the stream of history disrupted by the polar forces of opposite attractions. Looking forward too in anger, it will offer absolute devotion to the Lord of Atheism alone, valiantly withstanding all temptations of the ephemeral present’s dying gods. Though presented as the theatrical release of a new testament, the event’s eventual symbolism is as trivial as can be: it is a satirical take on the resurgence of Adam in the shape of New Jerusalem (The City of Eden) – the amateur trash of a reality showcase making sacrilegious fun of the Holy Kabal. According to the unwritten script of the mundane mystery play, the target of the re-search is the lost Arc: the architecture of the Kingdom. The tragic hero’s self-imposed seclusion – a sacrificial gesture to illustrate the drama of creation – is meant to once and for ever unseal the secret about the bloody business of redemption and the human resources as its currency. Though the sublime taste of the animated dummy won’t permit him political stirs, he won’t recoil from pushing the end of decline, calling for a global civil war against the quantitative judgement whenever he gets exited in the lair of his one-man zoo.
The spectacles start precisely at the Zero Hour of the day. The exact duration of one classified act is 155,2 minutes. That makes eight rooms in New Style, each launched with a doctrinal folk song performed live by the performing unit on the chime of the decimal clock violently interrupting the course of the ongoing dialogue. The spoken segments’ improvised ambiance will thus be finely counterbalanced by the rehearsed tunes electronic discipline assured by the professional musicians and dancers accompanying. Albeit the individual actions do not have any particular theme or tendency, the chants will always coincide with the occasional topic like invoked accidents. The repertoire’s numbered anthems have no discrepancy whatsoever and do not follow any conceptual libretto: they will be picked by runes cast before each showtime. Yet, due to the occult convention’s inherent pact with improbability, every track is promised to sound like premeditated response edited by the unlimited hazard. The strictly measured verbal breaks between two numbers are also used for assisted changing of the costumes proper for the next ditty.
The futuristic stage of the informative varieté decorated with symbols, flags, and slogans will be built as a magic altar set to open a purified space for channeling the spirit of an interplanetary marriage. With Dream’s exploited power in the center between the wings of Life (Art Scene) and Death (Sex Scene), the black mass of a white wedding will gently endow its witnesses with the lasting sensation of an unholy communion. The parallel actions of guest performers joining the College on its trip for one special night will in no manner affect the subplot but will essentially enrich the atmosphere of the soirees each time unique in them static frame. The overall tendency of the manifestation is to generate its own genre beyond geography and climate, suitable for the instant recruitment of born-again drop-outs of the mortal majority. Our rock operetta is the elitarian plot of a homocentric conspiracy in the dark tunnel of the Bardo, publicized as an audio-visual scroll of the ancestral fable. Condemning compassion and patience, it is to advocate the pleasure of being and justice for all.
* * *
DIGEST
(Promo Sheet)
(Promo Sheet)
THE COSMIC BARGAIN™ is a rock operetta for the elitarian masses. Part open
theatre -part a staged musical, it combines a concert’s artificial appeal with
the natural infomancy of a historic document, eradicating the electrostatic
frontiers between word and music like nothing before. It opens the ancient gate
of wireless transmission in the high-tech milieu of audio-visual control.
Post-mortem and pre-naissance, the performance is prepared for an encounter of the transient and the eternal in the form of a laid-back ritual beyond art and entertainment. It is happening under the clock but outside the reign of the imperfect present, producing a parody of non-existence whilst delivering a subrealist lecture on time-consciousness.
Confronting order and chaos in an unprecedentedly combative way of revelationary conflict, the living theater of dead souls is configured for an ecstatic liberation of the categorical mind from the contemporary chains of evil dogmas by promoting the virtues of individual independence. It is aimed at introducing a new Law of moral supremacy through multiple agitation of the uncensored Word sung and spoken.
Basically an associative conversation between the controversial protagonist confined to a golden cage and his two antagonist associates in perennial interaction with the instigated public, the strictly improvised and largely spontaneous dialogue will disregard the sacredest logic of conformist correctness and ignore the sweetest taboos of the established norms of discretion and decency. It will use scandal as its deliberate means of manipulation.
Structurally, the happening will comprise of eight speaking parts à 14.4 minutes, violently interrupted with a song at accurate chimes. Albeit in a different sequence on each occasion they’ll be supposed to magically correspond with the flow of the actual discourse underscoring the musical’s transcendent credit. It will leave no room for reasonable doubt.
Except for a few own composition, most of the bargaining songs are written to existing tunes of the collective memory selected from the most popular evergreen arsenal, with a personal penchant of military marches mainly from the Soviets’ heroic era. They will be respectfully updated by new lyrics of the Atheist argument, using nostalgia as a weapon. The music is arranged around the modern lines of industrial and goth metallica, bereft of experimentality and housing projects. It will play to ensure the events’ overall martial ambience.
In brief and concise, the post-narrative drama of the ideological clash will effectively serve as a work of pure intelligence, engineered as a high fidelity propaganda machine of THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY’s electoral campaign calling out the universal refugee of the world for a global civil war on crime through a seditious Antichristian propaganda of hope.
It is designed as a traveling extravaganza of unconditional love.
Post-mortem and pre-naissance, the performance is prepared for an encounter of the transient and the eternal in the form of a laid-back ritual beyond art and entertainment. It is happening under the clock but outside the reign of the imperfect present, producing a parody of non-existence whilst delivering a subrealist lecture on time-consciousness.
Confronting order and chaos in an unprecedentedly combative way of revelationary conflict, the living theater of dead souls is configured for an ecstatic liberation of the categorical mind from the contemporary chains of evil dogmas by promoting the virtues of individual independence. It is aimed at introducing a new Law of moral supremacy through multiple agitation of the uncensored Word sung and spoken.
Basically an associative conversation between the controversial protagonist confined to a golden cage and his two antagonist associates in perennial interaction with the instigated public, the strictly improvised and largely spontaneous dialogue will disregard the sacredest logic of conformist correctness and ignore the sweetest taboos of the established norms of discretion and decency. It will use scandal as its deliberate means of manipulation.
Structurally, the happening will comprise of eight speaking parts à 14.4 minutes, violently interrupted with a song at accurate chimes. Albeit in a different sequence on each occasion they’ll be supposed to magically correspond with the flow of the actual discourse underscoring the musical’s transcendent credit. It will leave no room for reasonable doubt.
Except for a few own composition, most of the bargaining songs are written to existing tunes of the collective memory selected from the most popular evergreen arsenal, with a personal penchant of military marches mainly from the Soviets’ heroic era. They will be respectfully updated by new lyrics of the Atheist argument, using nostalgia as a weapon. The music is arranged around the modern lines of industrial and goth metallica, bereft of experimentality and housing projects. It will play to ensure the events’ overall martial ambience.
In brief and concise, the post-narrative drama of the ideological clash will effectively serve as a work of pure intelligence, engineered as a high fidelity propaganda machine of THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY’s electoral campaign calling out the universal refugee of the world for a global civil war on crime through a seditious Antichristian propaganda of hope.
It is designed as a traveling extravaganza of unconditional love.
~ VERITAS LIBERABIT VOS ~
The Antichrist Overture & Song No. 1
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1994
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1994
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
"Es ist kein Schriftsteller.
Es ist ein Wolf.
Schade."
Es ist ein Wolf.
Schade."
What
is better: to fear alright or to get frightened?
To be ready is half prevention, that’s all I meant.
Is knowledge not the grandmother of neurosis?
Just on the contrary, you must ignore the causes.
How to attain oblivion in the killing field?
Simulation becomes a reflex if well concealed.
Will it defeat the darkness to whistle a little?
A lot might depend on the tune you’d chose to whistle.
To be prepared for shock – ain’t it a contradiction?
Stop escapism! Return to fiction!
refr.: you hear the thunder
the thunder is perennial
we must be sly and tender
but won’t ever surrender
don’t be too proud
Heaven is down and out
wink at the cloud but never believe the blue
spit in the Sun
thy will be done
(But) what can you do when your knees tremble like a rabbit’s?
It surely ain’t the exact time to alter habits.
Can good manners protect us from oncoming peril?
If you are rich enough they can repulse the devil.
But if it’s too late? What if it’s too late for defense?
I tell you, demons cannot harm the one that repents.
So where’s the guarantee – in running or in hiding?
Don’t worry baby – you just have to do the right thing.
To imitate acting – ain’t it too complicated?
Cure egoism! Doom the belated!
refr.
Is there no concrete device of orientation?
The Ten Commandos free the mind from hesitation.
Aren’t words too abstract in front of physical dangers?
Of course they aren’t. They ought to be your guardian angels.
Don’t virtues too often attract unjust punishment?
That’s why the great vampire of redemption is sent.
Is The Party to restore one’s right to rule his fate?
And to gather the dead ready to leave the estate.
To repurchase nightmares – ain’t it an absurd business?
Praise atheism! Prohibit misteries!
refr
To be ready is half prevention, that’s all I meant.
Is knowledge not the grandmother of neurosis?
Just on the contrary, you must ignore the causes.
How to attain oblivion in the killing field?
Simulation becomes a reflex if well concealed.
Will it defeat the darkness to whistle a little?
A lot might depend on the tune you’d chose to whistle.
To be prepared for shock – ain’t it a contradiction?
Stop escapism! Return to fiction!
refr.: you hear the thunder
the thunder is perennial
we must be sly and tender
but won’t ever surrender
don’t be too proud
Heaven is down and out
wink at the cloud but never believe the blue
spit in the Sun
thy will be done
(But) what can you do when your knees tremble like a rabbit’s?
It surely ain’t the exact time to alter habits.
Can good manners protect us from oncoming peril?
If you are rich enough they can repulse the devil.
But if it’s too late? What if it’s too late for defense?
I tell you, demons cannot harm the one that repents.
So where’s the guarantee – in running or in hiding?
Don’t worry baby – you just have to do the right thing.
To imitate acting – ain’t it too complicated?
Cure egoism! Doom the belated!
refr.
Is there no concrete device of orientation?
The Ten Commandos free the mind from hesitation.
Aren’t words too abstract in front of physical dangers?
Of course they aren’t. They ought to be your guardian angels.
Don’t virtues too often attract unjust punishment?
That’s why the great vampire of redemption is sent.
Is The Party to restore one’s right to rule his fate?
And to gather the dead ready to leave the estate.
To repurchase nightmares – ain’t it an absurd business?
Praise atheism! Prohibit misteries!
refr
Song No. 2
SINCERITY IN FOG
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1990
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
SINCERITY IN FOG
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1990
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
"Alles
musst Angst haben vom Hund.
Denn Hund ist mehr stark den Alles."
Denn Hund ist mehr stark den Alles."
There is no soul.
There’s no ascension.
– Aren’t we sentenced to life to wage an unholy war?
There is no goal.
There’s no direction.
– Aren’t we expected to take revenge and kill ’em all?
refr.:
ghosts without resource
smitten with remorse
cursed with love from an unfairy tale
penal servitude
seek for attitude
lost for good between two shades of pale
There is no will.
There is no treason.
– Aren’t we to destroy the nations dividing the Earth?
There is no thrill.
There is no reason.
– Aren’t we to spread the good news of nuclear rebirth?
refr.:
dazed by the Sun’s lies
deprived and unwise
in endless workship from down to doom
slaves forced to evolve
create and revolt
charged with building the Eternal’s tomb
There is no proof.
There’s no illusion.
– Aren’t we tenfold commanded to make cash and save Time?
There is no truth.
There’s no solution.
– Aren’t we promised a land free of illnesses and crime?
refr.:
overreproduced
disarmed and reduced
waiting sored up for final retail
hoping wild to quit
growing quite horrid
drinking the purple blood of the Grail
Song No. 3
FAITH IN FLOOD
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1990
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
FAITH IN FLOOD
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
New York, 1990
Video by VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
Lyric No. 3 (Beguine)
Faith In Flood
Faith In Flood
"Etwas
hat gesagt
Dass das ist etwas
Aber es ist nichts
Etwas hat gelügt
Warum?"
Dass das ist etwas
Aber es ist nichts
Etwas hat gelügt
Warum?"
A./ – Stop the clap-trap and reveal me right now
Why were we born and why must we die
If you don’t provide a normal answer
I won’t love you and will thell them that you lie
B./ (aside)
– What should I say, oh Lord, isn’t she charming
When getting on and out of her mind
If your heart don’t break at so much kismet
I’ll disclaim you and will admit that I’ve lied
B./ (direct)
Hey, what’s the buzz, why would I be lying
Don’t you know that I must be a spy
Why on Earth you want to get a message
That would only make you desperately cry
refr.: martyrs of the cosmic bargain
nobody knows where we are
one day we’ll lay down the burden
and this day is not too far
classified, marketed helots
wondering for whom to vote
one night we’ll unite the methods
and change control less remote
A./ – I had enough, please inform me clearly
Is there life after death or nothing
If you keep on riding ont he same track
I won’t follow you and will return the ring
B./ (aside)
– What should I do, how to put it quite new
She’s such a virgin, what could turn her head
If you don’t help me to find the right term
I’ll desert the post and will shoot myself dead
B./ (direct)
– Don’t make a fuss, what’s the matter with me
Words alone will never tell you more
I’m only here to redeem your soul girl
I’ve only come true to execute the war
refr.
A./ – Hallelujah, would you kindly disclose
Will the saints ever go marchin’ in
If you don’t give me a date to count with
I won’t support you and will endulge in sin
B./ (aside)
– What should I play, can’t you see she waiting
Why do you leave me always alone
If this business is low to Your Highness
I’ll disappear and won’t reimburse the loan
B./ (direct)
– Oh, come on, what’s the whizz my sweet darling
– Don’t you know this program is divine
– Clemency won’t defend us from vortex
– All we’re left to do is now and dead on time
refr.
Lyric No. 4 (March)
Respect In Tempest
Respect In Tempest
Precedence.
Preference.
Where have all the good times gone?
Equal rights.
No one guides.
The global beastdom thrives on.
– What we got to do with living?
– When you’re dead you don’t have to think.
Dignity.
Sympathy.
Where have all the good styles gone?
Kiss the bums.
Bless the scum.
Antichrist rides a blind swan.
refr.:
born to build this fucking bloody hell
supporting the burden pretty well
laying new foundations on the mud
trying to make wheels without a hub
what happened to the laws of Moses?
why freedom engenders psychosis?
why is man ashamed of being right?
who will help us through the dreamless night?
Selection.
Protection.
When shall the golden age come?
Snobbish guilt.
Self fulfilled.
The Prince of the Air saves none.
– What we got to get by giving?
– When you’re dead you don’t have a thing.
Gallantry.
Modesty.
When shall the judgement rage come?
Jerks on screen.
Fashion scene.
The Great Whore of pop makes fun.
refr.
Lyric No. 5 (Waltz)
Honesty In Frost
Honesty In Frost
"einmal
der Hund hat zu viel getrunken
und gesungen etwas"
und gesungen etwas"
subinformed, miscarried, defected – driven insane
arrested, detested, rejected – risen in vain
exploited, expended, expired – no wish to know
mesmerized, paralyzed, terrorized – no means too low
refr.:
blinded by the colors, broken by tongues
ringing the storm-bell that’s always been rung
waiting intensely for a crack in the sky
fallen for Gravity, tempted to fly
disengage, deviate, demolish, get up and walk
testify, rectify, sanctify, hands up and talk
die again, share the chain, yield to pain – no grace to-night
on the knees, int he bed, face the wall – no place to hide
refr.
negligence, exigence, indigence – back in the blue
solitude, consumption, self-defence – seeking a clue
accidents, incidents, pestilence – no price too high
inflation, extortion, redemption – no will to try
refr.
Encore:
armistice, liberty, tolerance – God gives a shit
injustice, poverty, violence – behold the kit
people’s pope, saints on dope, kings of soap – no sage to ask
monsters breed, demons freed, creeps of creed – no race to task
refr.
Song No. 6
Order In Flood
VideoDemo
Realised with Vitam & Sanguinem
New York City, 1992
Remix & Video by DJ/VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
Order In Flood
VideoDemo
Realised with Vitam & Sanguinem
New York City, 1992
Remix & Video by DJ/VJ NoMore, 2011
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
A frame from the 'Order In Flood' video
Lyric No. 6 (Rock)
Order In Flood
Order In Flood
"Wenn ich war ein Kleinhund
Ich bin zu viel gegangen Irgendwo
Jetzt ich bin ein Starkhund
Und will beissen einen jeden"
Ich bin zu viel gegangen Irgendwo
Jetzt ich bin ein Starkhund
Und will beissen einen jeden"
– You’re sent the call/but can’t recall/why the chosen should not pray.
– Just be a slave/work and behave/become any merchant’s prey?
– What’s the matter/ain’t it better/than to hit that awful trance?
– Mountains tumble/waters rumble/everyone knows there’s no chance.
refr.:
he sold his car
put on his star
and went up to Prague
he formed a band
but missed the trend
and stayed in the dark
– ’Cause a member/should remember/that those in need ought to pay.
– So go to sleep/cheat and deceive/perform every madman’s play?
– Wait a minute!/Where’s the limit?/Imagine me telling truth!
– You must be right./Here comes the night./Nobody takes more bad news.
refr.:
she changed her name
took the next plane
and flew to L.A.
she rushed for gold
but was too bold
and put into jail
– Twelve tribes unite./God save the Bride./And the Image in the ray...
– This is bullshit./How to worship?/There’s nothing left to betray.
– Don’t be so down./Who wants to drown./Join the Party and rejoice.
– That’s quite hollow./Soul can’t follow./Manpower is no resource.
refr.:
they stopped smoking
burned their cloathing
and moved to Tibet
they put it straight
but could not wait
and were killed by monks
Lyric No. 7 (Rock)
Obedience In Flood
Obedience In Flood
"Ausgehen!
Ich will es nicht sehen!"
Ich will es nicht sehen!"
refr.:
build your arc in the dark
’cause no genes of the queens
will prevail
save your skin, kith and kin
’cause the Lord can’t afford
the regale
here comes pardon, here comes Christ
everyone must be enticed
no more hunger, no more beast
welcome to the wedding feast
refr.
those who don’t seek shall not find
change your body, change your mind
there’s no justice without fame
no more context, no more shame
long live the Word, long live Time
no more stanza, no more rhyme
those that don’t sow shall no reap
join the Bridehood whilst it’s cheap
refr.
Lyric No. 8 (Samba)
Hygiene In Downpour
Hygiene In Downpour
"Weisst du wie zu spielen sas Gottspiel
Du kannst es nicht sehen
Du kannst es nicht horen
Aber du musst es finden
Keine Zeit, keine Zeichen
Das ist das Gottspiel"
Du kannst es nicht sehen
Du kannst es nicht horen
Aber du musst es finden
Keine Zeit, keine Zeichen
Das ist das Gottspiel"
– Love is divine terror.
– I thought it’s to set you free.
– Love is inclined error.
– Sounds like a kick in the knee.
– Love is treason to truth.
– Ain’t it the road to Kingdom?
– Love will give you the blues.
– Ain’t itt he price for wisdom?
– Love won’t save you from fate.
– But at least helps to forget.
– Love shall keep you afraid.
– That’s what redeems the old debt.
refr.
infantry ont he line
don’t we act much too fine
standing at attendance
waiting for the sentence
last bid and no refound
don’t miss to turn around
we’ve seen enough moonlight
let’s start the great Noontide
– Love cannot rise the dead.
– They say love is eternal.
– Love shouldn’t drive you mad.
– Seems like getting infernal.
– Love doesn’t bear with pride.
– What love has to do with genes?
– Love is the purblind’s guide.
– Who wants to live without dreams?
– Love is drug to the slave.
– But only love brings down soul.
– Love is test on the brave.
– All we need is muster-roll.
refr.
Song No. 9
HATE IN SNOWSTORM
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
Montreal – Copenhagen
1992 – 1996
Video by VJ NoMore, 2010
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
HATE IN SNOWSTORM
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
Montreal – Copenhagen
1992 – 1996
Video by VJ NoMore, 2010
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
Lyric No. 9
HATE IN SNOWSTORM
“Du kannst
spielen alles
Was nicht die Wahrheit ist
Nur die Wahrheit
Du kannst nicht spielen”
Was nicht die Wahrheit ist
Nur die Wahrheit
Du kannst nicht spielen”
‘…when Heaven ceased to practice its policy of creation
and declined investing more spirit
into futile insinuation, A
the liberal Beast ascended the throne of Babel fallen vacant
(videlicet, the goddamn nations
proved unequal of repayment)…’
the overpopulation crowded the House
rumours of afterlife spread mouth to mouth
asocialism granted uncivil rights
subhumanists praised their imbecile Christ
B
laws were abolished to safeguard the mob
prophets demolished the church of the god
dream factories produced serial nightmares
even the wolves were hiding in their dark lairs
Refr.: Ready for reincarnation
Filled with joy and pride
Black leather and white carnation
Hail the Jewish bride
C
From Jerusalem to Rome
Hear the same sane sound
Traitors on the line for home
The tribes lost and found
‘…when the tower collapsed for want of firm foundation
and global decay returned space age
into native tribulation,
the divine budget got plain reduced to low-cost mystic stimulation
(igitur, daemons won full power
to profit from the situation)…’
nostalgia nourished the cancer of secession
cosmopoliticians peddled with recession
underground overcame but no one noticed them
scrimshankers fought for the welfare system
unpopular science was reduced to fiction
the crime of tolerance bore no more restriction
rock and roll escaped to pass a resolution
freedom police embraced the revolution
Refr.: (repeat)
‘…when the cosmic bargain yielded the fifth dimension
and greed transformed the human specie
into scum beyond redemption,
the living dead declared the global war of independence
(nota bene, no word could correct
the wrong translation of the sentence)…’
*
Solfeggio
of Interlude
wuf – wuf – wuf wuf – waf
wof – wof – wof – wof
wif – wif – wif waf – wof
wef – wef – wef – wef
waf – waf – waf waf – wof
waf – waf – waf – waf
wuf – wuf – wuf wuf – waf
wof – wof – wof – wof
wif – wif – wif waf – wof
wef – wef – wef – wef
waf – waf – waf waf – wof
waf – waf – waf – waf
♫
THE MARCHANT
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
Toronto – New York
1983 – 1992
Video by VJ NoMore, 2010
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
THE MARCHANT
Antichrist contra Faith
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
With The Key of The Gate
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
Antichrist contra Faith
With The Key of The Gate
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
With The Key of The Gate
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
Antichrist contra Faith
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
...
DEMO
Realized with Sir David O'Clock
Toronto – New York
1983 – 1992
Video by VJ NoMore, 2010
Released in the framework of
THE OVERNATIONAL SOCIALIST PARTY'S
LAST FIVE-YEAR PLAN
by
THE MINISTRY OF REPRODUCTION
in benefit of
THE LAST JUDGEMENT
2014 AD
THE MARCHANT
Antichrist contra Faith
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
With The Key of The Gate
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
Antichrist contra Faith
With The Key of The Gate
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
With The Key of The Gate
Eight Hundred Eighty Eight
Antichrist contra Faith
Sings The Marchant
Halleluyah
Halleluyah
Eluyah
Eluyah
...
AFFIDAVIT
~ DOWN WITH HEAVEN ~
31 DECEMBER 1989
G.I.N.A.
(“Grosse Idealistische Naturschutz Arbeit”) in intelligent
service of the Overnational Socialist Party (Home of the UR) as unrivaled
proprietor of the sacred monopoly on the virtual city of New Jerusalem
before
the burning altar of Nuclear Reincarnation in the
pantheistic name of the Author hereby solemnly vows that
every profit arising from TCTC’s Electoral Campaign against the
contending powers of the cosmic bargain including all performances,
products, documents, and merchandizes will be directly and in full
transferred to the savings accounts of
the Joe Roes Trust Fund (The Hole of the Key) and invested
into the foundation of the Atheist Church through the Traitor’s Network of
the globalitarian elite.
~ DOWN WITH HEAVEN ~
31 DECEMBER 1989
SPIONS REVIAL
Volume I.
VideoBook
Includes 'THE COSMIC BARGAIN Part One'
Published by WordCitizen
2011
SPIONS Lyrics
Letter to = from Bardo
SPIONS Videos
Contact:
wordcitizen@gmail.com