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The Orders From The Dead
by Diamanda Galás
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
But these flames are NOT new
To OUR dead
OUR dead did cry their final prayer in those flames
Our dead did sing their last lullaby in those flames
Our dead prayed to our infidelite GOD in those flames
Our dead whispered a last goodbye to their mother IN THOSE FLAMES
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
OUR dead clawed their children close in
THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
OUR dead watched their daughters
16 times
RAPED AND BEATEN
in the still-burning of THOSE FLAMES
OUR dead watched an ax remove their
mother's skull
and crown a wooden spit
in the continuous burning of THOSE FLAMES
OUR DEAD watched while Chrysotomos
eyes and tongue were pulled out,
teeth and fingers broken, one by one,
in the laughing and the cheering OF THOSE FLAMES
OUR DEAD watched their sisters drenched with gasoline
and scream with melting skin
"THE WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES"
OUR DEAD gave birth to Turkish victories
the gurgling and then dying trophy.
on a bayonet which marked the borders of
THE WORLD WHICH IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
OUR DEAD WERE DRAGGED IN MARCHES
THROUGH THE DESERT SUN
FOR WEEKS UNTIL THE SUN BURNED OUT THEIR LUNGS
and when the desert sun which was burning them like flames
ripped apart their lips, we heard the final prayer
LORD GOD HAVE MERCY LORD UPON OUR SOULS!
They saw the WORLD IS GOING UP IN FLAMES
buried, not yet dead inside the pits
engraved:
"GIAOURI, INFIDELI:
OUR GOD HAS CHOSEN YOU TO DIE"
And now the unblessed dead have ordered us to say:
THIS is my GRAVE, MY HOLY BED
YOU CANNOT take it
YOU can NOT ERASE MY NAME
YOU can NOT ERASE OUR DEAD
YOU CANNOT ERASE THE DEAD
Because we have been ordered now
to list their names, their numbers,
to give their date of birth, their earthly city,
their father's name, the sweetness
of their mother's eyes
GOODBYE
GOODBYE
GOODBYE
and forevermore
We'll see you when the desert meets the sky
But do not FORGET MY NAME
And so these were the orders from the dead
said without a word but with a final glance:
the
SECOND
granted to the Infidel
since an Infidelite Hell
should NOT require a prayer
should NOT require a silent moment
And now the Infidel is told
to forgive and to forget
to understand :
Advance into a paradise of Dead Memories,
of Living Death, the Old Folks Home
of Catatonia
of Madness
and Despair.
"Do not ask me for the NUMBER of that Grave:
It has been stolen."
"What IS this love for bones and dirt?
Put this ancient thing behind you, Infidelite
You HAVE no claim to GOD
You Have no claim to PEACE
YOu HAVE no claim to JOY
YOU HAVE NO CLAIM
YOU HAVE NO CLAIM
YOU HAVE NO CLAIM
GIAVOURI!!!!
Remember just how lucky, sperm of Satan,
that you are:
to even BE
alive.
NOW!
HERE!
ACROSS THE SEA!
GIAVOUR!
You HAVE no God.
A man without a God
Can NOT be burned ALIVE
He never WAS alive,
not as a MAN, giavour,
but as a DOG."
[PAUSE]
BUT I HAVE orders from the Dead
that warn me:
"DO NOT FORGET ME:
My blood will fill the air you breathe
FOREVER."
"MY DEATHBIRD is Not DEAD
HE CARRIES ALL MY TEETH:
MY SMILE OF UNFORGETFULNESS,
MY LAUGH!
VRYKOLAKA!
I am the man unburied
who CANNOT sleep
IN FORTY PIECES!!!!!
I am the girl,
dismembered
and unblessed,
I am the open mouth
that drags your flesh
and will never rest
until
MY DEATH IS WRITTEN
IN A ROCK THAT CAN
NOT BE
BROKEN!"
And these are the orders
from The Dead.
This short-experimental film juxtaposes Diamanda Galas' three tracks (track 14 from the album 'Schrei X', tracks 4 and 6 from the album 'You Must Be Certain of The Devil.') While the film attempts to demonstrate what escapes one, what cannot be captured, Diamanda Galas' agonizing voice and piano tunes arrest one endlessly and haunt the viewer within its impossibility. There is an expectation of manifestation of the disaster but it cannot be seen or stared at, because its existence continually evades the viewer.
The film utilizes Maurice Blanchot's idea of the Other and the Disaster in a way where the viewer becomes the Other and stares at the anguish without seeing the eyes of the witness or rather the victim. The most basic human experience of anguish resonates and wears the mask of blankness. The exposure of thought is hidden and not revealed behind the agony, yet the viewer is to confront the expression in a radical sense.
The sound/the scream is the infinite reflection of the cruel monster that introduces the misery and the predicament of the human existence. Diamanda Galas' (www.diamandagalas.com) disquieting voice penetrates the images as if declaring the limitless insecurity as a means of disastrous affirmation of the Outside. One is made acquainted with the sorrow and chilling reality of suffering in Diamanda Galas' multi-octave voice. The haunting scream echoes and attacks the hearer and the viewer.