Big Thumb


The thumb above my head grows bigger
check the fucking facts!

I think I’m getting bald.
must be the pressure on my skull
which makes me go bald like this.

Big thumb above my head gets heavier
I cant even see him any more
cannot decipher the dirt
which feasts
under his nails.

Big thumb likes to tease
all unknown survivalists
with their
unknown ideals and their
unknown codes
all know by heart.

Big thumb above my head becomes more stubborn
check the fucking facts!

We chew self-indulgently
on pieces of recycled paper,
wiping our mouths with delicate products
of genuine child labour
and all that other
god-forsaken crap! (very angry)

No Mr. Postmodern can argue with more cynicism
how we touch old ideas with the tip of our tongues
while big thumb keeps on sitting
like a scare crow
in the corner of our eyes.

But deep down big thumb knows
being first just cannot last! (whisper)

My bald spot becomes a portal
masses of light flood out of it
centuries of ignored potential ooze out of it!

Big thumb becomes impatient
Big thumb needs to wash his hands (mean)

But big thumb rubs off all the skin on my skull
which big thumb planted,

…now all security is gone. (blank)

…I think I’m getting bald.
I think I’m just a pile of scabs.
Big thumb likes to just rub it all in (whiny, anxious)
…I think I have a headache
I think all security is gone.

But big thumb doesn’t know
how little I care about appearance
who minds whether or not I’m bald?

Big thumb tries to soothe my anger
but the stench from beneath his nails
makes me chunder,

I throw up
every injustice,
every misconception,
every moment wasted.
And big thumb knows we are living dead time! (reproachful)
Big thumb knows hidden seeds are spread everywhere,
ready to break through the concrete!

And big thumb cant get the dirt off his fingers!
no matter how hard he tries,
because being first just cannot last! (scream)

I think I’ll buy a toupee,
and rub off big thumb’s stench.

But he pushes me
into the streets, into a corner.
He thinks he’ll push so hard
until I’m no longer able
to use
my own hands.


Theory and Action

As soon as you make something concrete
it dies.
If you know what’s coming,
How can there be change?
If you know what’s coming,
How can there be change?
Change your attitude, make something concrete.
Change again and leave it behind.
How can there be change,
If you know what’s coming?
Theory and action, action and theory.
Separate yourself from theory.
Yourself separated from theory,
You will never die.
‘Cus as soon as you make something concrete
it dies.
We don’t wanna die!
We will never die.
We are not concrete.
This is theory.
This is dead.
So I say:
Go and change

Utrecht, Spring 2010