Martiros Saryan (Armenian, 1880-1972), Mount Aragats at summer. 1922. Oil on canvas. Saryan Museum, Yerevan, Armenia.
(via futurewitchdoctor)
(Source: dadpranks)
“
Then will appear the man who, as the first of all, has dared strip his soul naked and submit it alive to the outmost thought of the lineage, the very idea of doom. A man who has fathomed life and its cosmic ground, and whose pain is the Earth’s collective pain. With what furious screams shall not mobs of all nations cry out for his thousandfold death, when like a cloth his voice encloses the globe, and the strange message has resounded for the first and last time:
“– The life of the worlds is a roaring river, but Earth’s is a pond and a backwater.
– The sign of doom is written on your brows – how long will ye kick against the pin-pricks?
– But there is one conquest and one crown, one redemption and one solution.
– Know yourselves – be infertile and let the earth be silent after ye.”
And when he has spoken, they will pour themselves over him, led by the pacifier makers and the midwives, and bury him in their fingernails.
He is the last Messiah. As son from father, he stems from the archer by the waterhole.
”— Peter Wessel Zapffe, 1933 in “The Last Messiah”
“I like to be among the dead, they do me no harm, and they are people, too.”From Josef Winkler’s novel Graveyard of Bitter Oranges, the bloody boar.
Art credit Anthony Cudahy.
(Source: theparisreview, via hart-hart-blog)
