Look at these lyrics, then think of Jared Loughner. What you see is incoherence, rambling, a sense of moral and mental decay, and sexual frustration. Presumably the reference is that he needs someone to sit on his “flagpole”.
This song is undoubtedly in part autobiographical. This is our culture, or at least a significant part of it. These are the tatted-out, pierced, black wearing people with purple hair. It is not just a momentary ideosyncracy. It is a failure to adopt a formal meaning system, which is the say the mantle of our shared, traditional culture.
This is a subterranean river, but this is in my view the rough sentiment that is causing Europe to slowly dissipate through the failure to maintain its population. Environmentalism is just the ideological cloak. As I understand it, some Muslims in Sweden are already wearing T-Shirts that say “2030: then we take over”.
Flagpole Sitta
I had visions, I was in them,
I was looking into the mirror
To see a little bit clearer
The rottenness and evil in me
Fingertips have memories,
Mine can’t forget the curves of your body
So when I feel a bit naughty
I run it up the flagpole and see who salutes
(But no one ever does)
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
and I’m so hot ’cause I’m in hell
Been around the world and found
That only stupid people are breeding
The cretins cloning and feeding
And I don’t even own a TV
Put me in the hospital for nerves
And then they had to commit me
You told them all I was crazy
They cut off my legs now I’m an amputee, Goddamn you
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And it’s a sin, to live so well
I wanna publish ‘zines
And rage against machines
I wanna pierce my tongue
It doesn’t hurt, it feels fine
The trivial sublime
I’d like to turn off time
And kill my mind
You kill my mind
Mind…
Paranoia, paranoia
Everybody’s comin’ to get me
Just say you never met me
I’m runnin’ underground with the moles
Diggin’ holes
Hear the voices in my head
I swear to God it sounds like they’re snoring
But if you’re bored then you’re boring
The agony and the irony, they’re killing me, whoa!
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And I’m so hot cause I’m in hell
I’m not sick, but I’m not well
And it’s a sin to live this well