[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Kristine asks, Why are you doing this?
I told you. Because I can.
Why me?
You were there.
Kristine is still alive. Jack is going through her clothing. He
finds a scrap of paper in her front pants pocket. He unfolds it, reads.
He asks, Who are these people?
She doesn t know who he s talking about.
He shows her the paper, asks, Did you know Nika?
We were friends.
Who are they to Nika?
It starts to occur to her why she hasn t seen her friend. She
asks, Did you kill her?
I cut out her uterus.
Kristine catches a sob, asks, Why?
Songs of the Dead " 289
Because she wasn t a doer.
He asks again, Who are these people?
I don t know.
He hits her. What did you tell them?
Nothing.
He hits her again. You told them everything.
There was nothing to tell. How could I?
What do they know?
I don t know. I don t know.
I don t believe you.
Kristine is dead. Her body is in the river. Jack derived no
pleasure from any of this. He didn t even bother to ask her what she
saw as she died. He wishes he would never have found that piece of
paper. He can t get those people out of his head. It cannot be a coin-
cidence that they had contact with two of these women. How many
more do they know about? They must know something. But what?
twenty
six
t h e v o i c e o f g o d
Songs of the Dead " 291
I m up late writing, and when I come to bed, Allison is long-
since asleep. I remove my clothes and put them on the floor in one
corner, then briefly flash the overhead lights so I can find my night-
shirt. In the dark I put it on. I slip into bed. Allison doesn t stir. I
whisper her name to see if she s awake enough to chat or make love,
and she doesn t respond. We both have standing invitations that if
the other wants to make love they can wake us up, but we almost
never pursue that. There s always plenty of time when we re both
awake.
I m tired, but as so often happens the moment I lie down the
muse begins to speak to me. She gives me words and sentences and
images. This night she begins by telling me to listen to Nika. I don t
know what that means, in part because I don t remember Nika saying
anything. I keep picturing her reaching out. I keep feeling our fingers
touch.
And then the images shift as I start to drift. I see the demons
and I hear the stamping of their feet. I hear the director say in a hiss-
ing voice, Choose.
I am asleep now, and I am dreaming. I am dreaming of the
attempts to assassinate Hitler, and I am dreaming of the miracles that
kept Hitler alive. In this dream I am wondering how we can possibly
defeat the force that made and makes these miracles. I am won-
dering what miracles can possibly overmatch these.
I am dreaming of Stauffenberg s ring. And I am dreaming of
rivers full of salmon, skies full of birds, forests and deserts and rivers
and lakes and oceans full of lives. And then I am dreaming of my cat
who died, the cat who made it back home from the vet s. She comes
up to me. I tell her I thought she was dead, and she crooks her tail
at me. I pick her up and she purrs and purrs. I see Nika. She reaches
out her hand.
I see hall after hall filled with beautiful pieces of art. I see
someone pulling them down, tearing them into pieces. I ask why.
The person turns to me and says, Because I can.
292 " Derrick Jensen
I see people operating machines. I see these machines pull-
ing down forests. I see them erecting dams. I see them killing oceans.
I see them sterilizing everything they touch. I look at these people. I
don t even ask, and still they say, Because we can.
And then I hear the voice of God. The voice says, You can-
not win. Don t even try.
And then I see Stauffenberg s ring. I see Nika. She is reach-
ing out.
I see salmon going away. I see salamanders going away. I
see swordfish going away. I see songbirds going away. I see apes and
wolves and bison going away.
And then I see tiny salmon darting back into this world,
smelling the waters, sensing if it is yet safe to come home. I see that
lone ivory-billed woodpecker doing the same. I see passenger pi-
geons, wood bison, great auks. They all do the same. They are all
waiting till it is safe to return. I see them all hiding. I see them all
wanting to come home. And I know that if we all of us, from sea-
horses to rivers to humans to muses to demons do not stop this wé-
tiko culture if the God of stasis wins they will never get to come
home. And neither will we.
And I hear again the voice of God, saying, You cannot win.
Do not try. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
Kristine asks, Why are you doing this?
I told you. Because I can.
Why me?
You were there.
Kristine is still alive. Jack is going through her clothing. He
finds a scrap of paper in her front pants pocket. He unfolds it, reads.
He asks, Who are these people?
She doesn t know who he s talking about.
He shows her the paper, asks, Did you know Nika?
We were friends.
Who are they to Nika?
It starts to occur to her why she hasn t seen her friend. She
asks, Did you kill her?
I cut out her uterus.
Kristine catches a sob, asks, Why?
Songs of the Dead " 289
Because she wasn t a doer.
He asks again, Who are these people?
I don t know.
He hits her. What did you tell them?
Nothing.
He hits her again. You told them everything.
There was nothing to tell. How could I?
What do they know?
I don t know. I don t know.
I don t believe you.
Kristine is dead. Her body is in the river. Jack derived no
pleasure from any of this. He didn t even bother to ask her what she
saw as she died. He wishes he would never have found that piece of
paper. He can t get those people out of his head. It cannot be a coin-
cidence that they had contact with two of these women. How many
more do they know about? They must know something. But what?
twenty
six
t h e v o i c e o f g o d
Songs of the Dead " 291
I m up late writing, and when I come to bed, Allison is long-
since asleep. I remove my clothes and put them on the floor in one
corner, then briefly flash the overhead lights so I can find my night-
shirt. In the dark I put it on. I slip into bed. Allison doesn t stir. I
whisper her name to see if she s awake enough to chat or make love,
and she doesn t respond. We both have standing invitations that if
the other wants to make love they can wake us up, but we almost
never pursue that. There s always plenty of time when we re both
awake.
I m tired, but as so often happens the moment I lie down the
muse begins to speak to me. She gives me words and sentences and
images. This night she begins by telling me to listen to Nika. I don t
know what that means, in part because I don t remember Nika saying
anything. I keep picturing her reaching out. I keep feeling our fingers
touch.
And then the images shift as I start to drift. I see the demons
and I hear the stamping of their feet. I hear the director say in a hiss-
ing voice, Choose.
I am asleep now, and I am dreaming. I am dreaming of the
attempts to assassinate Hitler, and I am dreaming of the miracles that
kept Hitler alive. In this dream I am wondering how we can possibly
defeat the force that made and makes these miracles. I am won-
dering what miracles can possibly overmatch these.
I am dreaming of Stauffenberg s ring. And I am dreaming of
rivers full of salmon, skies full of birds, forests and deserts and rivers
and lakes and oceans full of lives. And then I am dreaming of my cat
who died, the cat who made it back home from the vet s. She comes
up to me. I tell her I thought she was dead, and she crooks her tail
at me. I pick her up and she purrs and purrs. I see Nika. She reaches
out her hand.
I see hall after hall filled with beautiful pieces of art. I see
someone pulling them down, tearing them into pieces. I ask why.
The person turns to me and says, Because I can.
292 " Derrick Jensen
I see people operating machines. I see these machines pull-
ing down forests. I see them erecting dams. I see them killing oceans.
I see them sterilizing everything they touch. I look at these people. I
don t even ask, and still they say, Because we can.
And then I hear the voice of God. The voice says, You can-
not win. Don t even try.
And then I see Stauffenberg s ring. I see Nika. She is reach-
ing out.
I see salmon going away. I see salamanders going away. I
see swordfish going away. I see songbirds going away. I see apes and
wolves and bison going away.
And then I see tiny salmon darting back into this world,
smelling the waters, sensing if it is yet safe to come home. I see that
lone ivory-billed woodpecker doing the same. I see passenger pi-
geons, wood bison, great auks. They all do the same. They are all
waiting till it is safe to return. I see them all hiding. I see them all
wanting to come home. And I know that if we all of us, from sea-
horses to rivers to humans to muses to demons do not stop this wé-
tiko culture if the God of stasis wins they will never get to come
home. And neither will we.
And I hear again the voice of God, saying, You cannot win.
Do not try. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]