Transmissions

Day by day and almost minute by minute

The past was brought up to date

In this way every prediction could be shown

By documentary evidence to have been correct

Nor was any item of news, or any expression of opinion

Which conflicted with the needs of the moment

Ever allowed to remain on record

Scraped clean and re-inscribe

The past had not merely been altered

It had been actually destroyed

For how could you establish even the most obvious fact

When no record existed outside your own memory?

All history scraped clean and re-inscribed

Exactly as often as was necessary

War is peace, freedom is slavery

Ignorance is strength

The whole climate of thought will be different

In fact, there will be no thought, as we understand it now

Orthodoxy means not thinking-not needing to think

Orthodoxy is unconsciousness

Scraped clean and re-inscribed exactly as often as was necessary

Orthodoxy is ignorance

Ignorance is slavery, War is Peace

The war is not meant to be won, it is meant to be continuous

The war is waged by the ruling group against its own subjects

And its object is not victory

But to keep the very structure of society

Intact, scraped clean and re-inscribed

War is peace freedom is slavery

Ignorance is strength

They were said to be building a palace in the sky

But nothing changes, everything stays the same

Just wrapped in different plastic, I am too dead for dreaming

We will be remembered for what we destroyed

A world of corpses, a world of corpses

Decay and collapse where we spoke of pain

A rope around my neck but we will make corpses of you all

Time will make us sell it so short in our race down

We think we know things

And are close to mastery yet time passes

We have become gods

Knowing what is good and evil

And so we live with the knowledge of death

Sublime intoxication

Will this destroy me? Rot my body?

Groin to dry, catch my thoughts in rots?

The more I know the more I need to get me through

Sublime intoxication

When did the future become a threat?

The past has been destroyed

The war is not meant to be won

All history turns to plastic

Scraped clean and re-inscribed

Some things are so corrupt

That the only clean act is nihilism

As we slip and disintegrate

Layer by layer

If we don’t build we must burn

Civilization is the infection

Where we revere the sticky spoor of blood

These are brutal times