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WAR (Blood Meridian)
07:38
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1.) See the child. He is pale and thin, he wears a thin and ragged linen shirt. He stokes the scullery fire. Outside lie dark turned fields with rags of snow and darker woods beyond that harbor yet a few last wolves. His folk are known for hewers of wood and drawers of water but in truth his father has been a schoolmaster. He lies in drink, he quotes from poets whose names are now lost. The boy crouches by the fire and watches him.
Night of your birth. Thirty-three. The Leonids they were called. God how the stars did fall. I looked for blackness, holes in the heavens. The Dipper stove.
The mother dead these fourteen years did incubate in her own bosom the creature who would carry her off. The father never speaks her name, the child does not know it. He has a sister in this world that he will not see again. He watches, pale and unwashed. He can neither read nor write and in him broods already a taste for mindless violence. All history present in that visage, the child the father of the man.
2.) The judge cracked with the back of an axe the shinbone on an antelope and the hot marrow dripped smoking on the stones. They watched him. The subject was war.
The good book says that he that lives by the sword shall perish by the sword, said the black.
The judge smiled, his face shining with grease.
What right man would have it any other way? he said.
The good book does indeed count war an evil, said Irving. Yet there’s many a bloody tale of war inside it.
It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. That is the way it was and will be. That way and not some other way.
... because they inhere in the worth of the principals and define them. But trial of chance or trial of worth all games aspire to the condition of war for here that which is wagered swallows up game, player, all.
...This is the nature of war...War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god.
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Psycho
06:20
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The Ride
05:28
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5. |
Electric Worm
07:00
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Zro Granada, Spain
Egbert A. Waldhoff. Born in Germany. Traveled extensively in the Middle East during the '70 and later all over Asia and South America. Settled finally in Andalusia, Spain. Worked throughout the world as race driver, mechanic, entrepreneur, builder, fashion designer. Classic education in Piano at Dusseldorf Robert Schuman Konservatorium. Plays keyboards, electric and classical guitar. ... more
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