mon crime est trop grande pour moi

Speaking in tongues. To write

perhaps to bring this

assemblage of the

unconscious to the light of

day, to
select the whispering voices,

to gather the tribes and

secret idioms from
which I extract something I

call my Self (Moi). I is an

order-word. A
schizophrenic said:
"I heard voices say: he is conscious of


My direct discourse is still the

free indirect
discourse running through

me, coming from other worlds

or other planets. (Recurrent image of the radio; the voices in Beckett's characters)

That is why so many artists

and writers have been

tempted by the seance

Canetti's suggestions, we may

begin from the following

pragmatic situation:
the order-word is a death

sentence; it always implies a

death sentence,
even if it has been

considerably softened,

becoming symbolic, initiatory,
temporary, etc.


bring immediate death to

those who receive
the order, or potential death

if they do not obey, or a death

they must themselves
inflict, take elsewhere.


father's orders to his son,

"You will do
this," "You will not do that,"

cannot be separated from the

little death sentence
the son experiences on a

point of his person.
___________________________________ God said to Abraham
_____________________________________________Kill me a son
________________________________________Abe said man you must be
___________________puttin me on

death; it is the
only judgment, and it is what

makes judgment a system.

The verdict.
_________________________________ You pray the Lord above
___________________________________________Oh please send you a friend

the order-word is also

something else, inseparably

connected: it is like a
warning cry or a message to


It would be

oversimplifying to say that
flight is a reaction against the

order-word; rather, it is

included in it, as its
other face in a complex

assemblage, its other


Canetti is right to
invoke the lion's roar, which

enunciates flight and death

_________________________ r brain is a-bleedin'
your legs can't seem to stand

-tuggin' at your sleeve
Youlook crazy

Like the dirty drivin'
Your wife's screams are stabbin' you

There's no water in your well

The order-word has two Theres seven breezes a-blowin
around the cabin door

Seven shots ring out
Like the oceans pounding roar

the sentence denounced yet to arrive
sent ages ago
a package
an unmarked postal sign

tones. The prophet receives

order-words just as
much in taking flight as in

longing for death:

Jewish prophetism fused the

wish to be dead and the flight

impulse with the divine


And on that day Thou shalt die ~