callous heels numbed in travel; endless maps made by their scalpels.

29th dec 2008

i’ve been so up and down with my emotions today, for all sorts of reasons, manifesting from me just thinking too much about everything and everyone. but right now i’m pretty good, smiling, actually.

i wrote out this long, long, long and extremely self-revealing explanation of why i felt so shit today; mainly about boys and leaving and feeling pretty lonely. it made me feel better, but i deleted it. stuff like that is always good, it helps you rationalise your own emotions; to figure out why i was crying in the shower about not being missed when i go to sydney even though i know i will and all sort of fundamentally irrational shit.

so right now i’m listening to at the drive-in, i have all of their albums, but haven’t listened to them in ages. they’re pretty amazing, i lovelovelovelove their lyrics.

This song, which is about the dead women of juarez, through a long twisted path of research actually inspired my extension history major work (i am that cool), and fanned the flames of my interest in mexican culture, especially the place of women.

http://www.revcom.us/a/v24/1161-1170/1166/juarez.htm

actually some stuff from my research (off the top of my head): ciudad juarez is a city in mexico, quite close to the border with america. it is a hub of factories, especially “maquiladoras”, $55 a week assembly plants, operated by huge corporations with vast wealth; some of the wealthiest in the world, in fact. 70% of workers are women and girls, some as young as only 13 years old.

at least 370 women, most of them factory workers, almost all of them young, slim, pretty, with long dark hair, have been raped and murdered here since 1993. 500 are still missing.  yet despite this, little is done to protect the scores of women who continue to arrive in juarez desperate for even the minute amount of money maquiladora work can provide; nor seek or bring to justice whoever is doing this to these women. every 12 days, a woman goes missing, yet authorities have only responded due to mounting pressure from advocacy groups and international authorities, and have largely scapegoated and made excuses.

yet from this has emerged a strong consciousness of the need for women to protect women, with many advocacy groups being created. not just in terms of this horrific violence, but the violence and misogyny that permeates much of mexico. in 2002 a law was made in chiahuahua (where ciudad juarez is located) where sentences for rape could be reduced if the victim “provoked” them. this is symptomatic of the base problems of a society where a husband cannot be charged with raping his wife and domestic violence is rarely prosecuted; where even the attorney general said that murder and rape victims brought it on themsleves by dressing provocatively. clearly, violence against women is not taken seriously, as the inattention by authorities to these murders ilustrates. this has catalysed a greater awareness amongst the women of mexico to their rights and responsibility to fight for themselves against violence and misogyny.

the things you write at 1 in the morning.

at the drive-in. pretentious, perhaps, but brilliant? undeniable.

Invalid Litter Dept.

Intravenously polite, it was the walkie-talkies
That had knocked the pins down
As their shoes gripped the dirt floor
In the silhouette of dying.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

Yeah, they had plans for him
But they had spun the last of the pimps
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips
While the guillotine just laughed again.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

And the paramedics fell into the wound
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant,
An anaesthetic penance beneath
The hail of contraband.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes.)

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

They had defected and been excommunicated
And all the pulses were subverted,
And they made sure the obituaries
Showed pictures of smoke stacks.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

A vivid dissection that mocked
The strut of vivisection
A semi-automatic colony
And a silencing that still walks the streets.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

In the company of wolves
Was a stretcher made of
Cobblestone curfews.
And the federales performed
Their custodial customs quite well.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes.)

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

Intravenously polite, it was the walkie-talkies
That had knocked the pins down
As their shoes lay dangling on the dirt floor
In the silhouette of dying.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

Well, yeah, they had plans for him
But they had spun the last of the pimps
Polyester, satin nailed, jewelery lips
While the guillotine just laughed again.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes…)

And the paramedics had fallen into the wound
Like a rehired scab at a barehanded plant,
An anaesthetic penance beneath
The hail of contraband.
(Dancing on the corpse’s ashes.)

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way,
Nails broke and fell
Into the
Wishing well.
Wishing well.
Wishing well.

On my way…
Dancin’ on the corpse’s ashes…
Dancin’ on the corpse’s ashes…

Callous heels,
Numbed in travel
Endless maps made
By their scalpels.
Scalpels.

Callous heels,
Numbed in travel
Endless maps made
By their scalpels.

Scalpels…

Catacombs

Lark throated spit through beaks tonight
These gagging chirps were written in disguise
What’s that sound?
Caskets floating

Hey you, did you ever intend to sleep inside my tomb
And you would you ever attempt to kick from inside this womb
Hey you, would you ever attempt the excavation of these fossils
And in case you haven’t noticed, we’re already dead

This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage
This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage
This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage

Pendulum swing through tantrum slits
This scalpel’s gaze untamed won’t feel romantic
What’s that sound?
Caskets floating

In laymen’s terms sewn through matrimony

Hey you, did you ever intend to
Hey you, did you ever intend to
Hey you, did you ever intend to
Hey you, did you ever intend to

This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage
This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage

What’s that sound coming?
What’s that sound I hear coming?

This gravity is a quadriplegic horse and carriage

One-Armed Scissor

Yes this is a campaign,
slithered entrails
in the cargo bay
Neutered is the vastness
Hallow vacuum check the
oxygen tanks.
They hibernate
but have they kissed the ground
pucker up and kiss the asphalt now
Tease this amputation
splintered larynx
it has access now

cut Away, cut Away
Send transmission
from the one-armed scissor
cut away, cut away

Banked on memory.
Mummified circuitry,
Skin graft, machinery,
Sputnik sickles found in the seats

Self-destruct sequence
this station is non-operational
Species growing
Bubbles in an IV loitering

Unknown origin
Is this the comfort of being afraid?
Solar eclipsed
Black out the vultures
as they wait

cut away, cut away
Send transmission
from the one-armed scissor
(get Away, get Away)

Dissect a trillion sighs away
Will you get this letter?
Jagged pulp sliced in my veins
I write to remember
Cause I’m a million miles away,
Will you get this letter?
Jagged pulp sliced in my veins
I write to remember…
I write to remember…
My right to remember…

cut away, cut away
Send transmission
from the one-armed scissor
cut away, cut away
(cut away cut away cut away cut away)

Cosmonaut

we sample from the shelves
tore a page out from this chapter
deface the essays in the book that you’re reading
we are the leaches that stop the bleeding
deficit attention program
by any means necessary
blare sirens to the library
whisper instructions to the book-wormed glossary

is it heavier than air – tell us, is the black box lying?
is it heavier than air – tell us, is the black box lying?

aeronautics hacked
the spine of paragraphs
prepare to indent, a coma that read-
floating in a soundproof costume
here comes the monolith
brass knuckles for the hissie fit
an abbreviation for the landing of fleets
incoming

is it heavier than air – tell us, is the black box lying?
is it heavier than air – tell us, is the black box lying?

position the stitches – like miles of torpedoes
permission was hinted
lungs that hollered in a sleeper hold

is it heavier than air – am i supposed to die alone?
is it heavier than air?
is it heavier than air – am i supposed to die alone?
is it heavier than air?

position the stitches – like miles of torpedoes
permission was hinted
lungs that hollered in a sleeper hold

position the stitches – like miles of torpedoes

Pattern Against User

the proposition
handcuffed to the park bench
hypodermic people poking
fun at the living
please lift the weight out of this
it takes the weight out of living
are we just infants
that are ripe for the training
the opposition
can’t feel the tenticle reach
suction cup the numb arms
of the elderly
please lift the weight out of this
it takes the weight out of living
let these walkers trip on
endless proof

pattern against user- dilated
bastard waiting for nothing
circus carny guarding
the gates of heaven
like stuck in limbo abduction
wormed our way through
distant earth

this intuition
limps with the cane of suspicion
folding space in the crease
of this page
it takes the weight out of this
it takes the weight out of-
trickling the ticking of this
grandfather clock
the opposition
can’t feel the tenticle reach
suction cup the numb arms of
the elderly

chorus

and if this clock keeps ticking away
will time be hesitated
of all the minutes that were
taken away
will your watch be waiting
sand falls through
time portals
these landfills – immortal
and if this clock keeps
beating down
let the branded time
keep playing
of all the minutes that
were taken away
will your watch be waiting

fuck i love them, but i hate the mars volta! i guess i just prefer the sound of at the drive-in, they’re… i don’t know, i like their energy, as well as their lyrics. seeing them live would be so awe-inspiring, i’ve seen many youtube clips, they’re crazy on stage.

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