When the credits finally roll for this, the worst story ever told, don’t bother sifting through the names for yours or anyone you know. Unless they were by chance a shepherd king, a virgin birth, a resurrection, a messianic prince or some such childish thing. You can storm the edit suite or move to block its theatrical release, but I think we can safely guarantee that there will be no revisions to the script made on behalf of a supporting cast(e).
Because history exalts only the pornography of force-that of murderers and psychopaths (the rest of us, of course, stricken from the narrative wholesale: a back drop to the tale)-as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with the jawbones of asses. No stirring curtain call for the masses.
No floral bouquet. No breaking of legs. No recurring role. No artistic control. And so in these days, in this terminal phase, it’s all left to chance. A piece of advice: if you’re cast on thin ice, you may as well dance.
Do what you feel you must, but as for me I was not put upon this earth to subjugate or serve.
Propagandhi Lyrics Supporting
When the credits finally roll, on this the worst story ever told, don't bother sifting through the names for yours or anyone you know, unless they were by chance a shepherd king, a virgin birth, or resurrection, a messianic prince or some such childish thing. You can story end is sweet move to block its theatrical release, but I think we can safely guarantee there will be no revisions to the script made on behalf of a supporting caste.
Cause history accepts only the pornography of force, that of murderers and psychopaths, the rest of us of course stricken from the narrative wholesale. A backdrop to their jail! As we with two pence, are rushed right swiftly off the stage with Child bones, of asses, the story couldn't call for the masses. No floral bouquet, no breaking of legs, no recurring role, no artistic control!
Its so weird these days, this torment we face, its all left to chance, A piece of advice, if you're cast on thin ice, you may as well dance. Do what you feel you must, but as for me I was not put upon this earth to subjugate or serve.
Supporting Caste is.easily. one of their top eight albums. I bought the digital album off their former label g7welcomingcommittee back in 2009 and have been kicking myself ever since for not getting a physical copy. Now with this LIMITED EDITION CD AUTOGRAPHED BY THE BAND I can finally achieve the visceral pleasure of chucking one in my recycling bin. Knowing they broke many, many crayons trying to spell their own names on the cover makes it worth the extra $ Wait a minute are crayons vegan?
Favorite track: Potemkin City Limits. Apr 1996 contact / help Track Name: Night Letters Your world was blown right apart on a night of sickening death. You went running for your life and never went home again. I spend sleepless nights as my head swims worrying about you. You work the night shift so you won’t be alone. I am adept at cold.
You have travelled so far from home. Sorrow has followed every step of the way. You’re caught between this life and the one left behind. I see it’s burning you inside like some exploding sun. Your mind constantly returns to a place that’s not so fucking cold, but on fire with war.
You’re starting over from scratch, sending your money home. You’re working as hard as you can while life hangs in the air.
I see distant lights up ahead but I’m worrying about you. It’s all taking its toll and you can’t concentrate.
You are being crushed by the world. I have gotten lucky so far. We sit at the end of this night dialing. An answer finally reached through a long distance line.
News of threatening night letters. Stones tossed over the fence. Your loved ones taunted by murderers. Tell them it’s three years that they’ll have to wait as their whole world implodes. Track Name: Supporting Caste When the credits finally roll for this, the worst story ever told, don’t bother sifting through the names for yours or anyone you know. Unless they were by chance a shepherd king, a virgin birth, a resurrection, a messianic prince or some such childish thing.
You can storm the edit suite or move to block its theatrical release, but I think we can safely guarantee that there will be no revisions to the script made on behalf of a supporting cast(e). Because history exalts only the pornography of force-that of murderers and psychopaths (the rest of us, of course, stricken from the narrative wholesale: a back drop to the tale)-as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with the jawbones of asses. No stirring curtain call for the masses.
No floral bouquet. No breaking of legs.
Propagandhi Supporting Caste Lyrics
No recurring role. No artistic control. And so in these days, in this terminal phase, it’s all left to chance. A piece of advice: if you’re cast on thin ice, you may as well dance. Do what you feel you must, but as for me I was not put upon this earth to subjugate or serve.
Track Name: Tertium Non Datur All the sucked thumbs and held skirts and blankets so secure that they block out the sweep of the floodlights that could free them from the darkness that surrounds them. From the demons that keep hounding them and gouge their eyes until all they can see are rigid dichotomies of the sacred and the profane. Of salvation or shame with fuck all in between. The human impulse to explain hijacked: a controlled flight into terrain to ensure no passenger ever makes any connection between the proscription of mystery and their malaise.
Tidy pairings of inverse binaries. We all seek meaning in our lives, but when every shadow of doubt is denied the sanctification of hatred thrives on every sucked thumb and held skirt and blanket so secure that they block out the sweep of the floodlights that could free us from the darkness that surrounds us. The demons that keep hounding us. We put out our own eyes and reproach the blind. Track Name: Dear Coach's Corner Dear Ron MacLean.
Dear Coach’s Corner. I’m writing in order for someone to explain to my niece the distinction between these mandatory pre-game group rites of submission and the rallies at Nuremburg. Specifically the function the ritual serves in conjunction with what everybody knows is in the end a kid’s game. I’m just appealing to your sense of fair play when I say she’s puzzled by the incessant pressure for her to not defy the collective will, and yellow ribboned lapels, as the soldiers inexplicably rappel down from the arena rafters (which, if not so insane, would be grounds for screaming laughter).
Dear Ron MacLean, I wouldn’t bother with these questions if I didn’t sense some spiritual connection. We may not be the same but it’s not like we’re from different planets: we both love this game so much we can hardly fucking stand it. Alberta-born and prairie-raised. Seems like there ain’t a sheet of ice north of Fargo I ain’t played. From Penhold to the Gatineau, every fond memory of childhood that I know is somehow connected to the culture of this game. I can’t just let it go.
But I guess it comes down to what kind of world you want to live in, and if diversity is disagreement, and disagreement is treason, well don’t be surprised if we find ourselves reaping a strange and bitter fruit that sad old man beside you keeps feeding to young minds as virtue. It takes a village to raise a child but just a flag to raze the children until they’re nothing more than ballast for fulfilling a madman’s dream of a paradise where complexity is reduced to black and white. How do I protect her from this cult of death?
Track Name: This Is Your Life You’re not really mad at Iran or Afghanistan. You’re mad at the fact that your wife can’t stand you anymore.
You don’t know where she is. You’re going crazy in your basement hole.
Clicking your remote control. Spitting insults at the screen because tomorrow you’re back at work, where you can’t stand being the little man. Despite your groveling you can’t get ahead. No one really laughs at your stories anymore. You’re too cynical and mean so they’ve fucked off bored. Your kids are at the mall. They just sit and stare at the walls.
You think you tell it like it is. You say you can’t stand bleeding hearts but every single day you just sit there bleeding for yourself. You whine and cry in your manly voice. This is your life.
You do it to yourself. Take the load off your mind. Go out into the world. You’ll see you’ll probably survive.
This is your life. Track Name: Human(e) Meat (The Flensing of Sandor Katz) “I swear I did my best to ensure that his final moments were swift and free from fear. But consideration should be made for the fact that Sandor Katz was my first kill, so I trust the reader will understand that while his screams may well have seemed like conscious objections they were in reality simply a request to honour his strength and speed! With gratitude and tenderness I singed every single hair from his body, gently placed his decapitated head in a stock pot, boiled off his flesh and made a.
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Supporting Caste When the credits finally roll for this, the worst story ever told, don’t bother sifting through the names for yours or anyone you know. Unless they were by chance a shepherd king, a virgin birth, a resurrection, a messianic prince or some such childish thing. You can storm the edit suite or move to block its theatrical release, but I think we can safely guarantee that there will be no revisions to the script made on behalf of a supporting cast(e). Because history exalts only the pornography of force–that of murderers and psychopaths (the rest of us, of course, stricken from the narrative wholesale: a back drop to the tale) as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with the jawbones of asses.
No stirring curtain call for the masses. No floral bouquet. No breaking of legs. No recurring role.
No artistic control. And so in these days, in this terminal phase, it’s all left to chance.
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A piece of advice: if you’re cast on thin ice, you may as well dance. Do what you feel you must, but as for me I was not put upon this earth to subjugate or serve.
General CommentNot sure I agree sandihume re: these lyrics not being to the point this song is basically suggesting that as the human 'story' draws to a close, and stating that for the most part ordinary people will never receive recognition for their contibutions unless they are 'a shepherd king, a virgin birth, etc' (i.e. Someone like Jesus) - which is a another way of pointing out that there was nothing more (or less) remarkable about Jesus compared to anyone else who has ever lived and yet billions worldwide follow his life. This point is later emphasised with the line 'as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off the stage' the line 'Because history exalts only the pornography of force.' Is referring to the fact that history is written by the victors (aka 'murderers and psychopaths'), with the people who are effected by their actions ignored and forgotten. General CommentThe first line describes the 'Worst story ever told'. Since this entire song focuses on history, we assume the 'Worse story' described is humanity itself.
'When the credits filially role' is basically saying when our pathetic little plight has reached its conclusion - when humanity is 'over'. The rest of the song, essentially, is discussing (as many others have pointed out) the fact that the tyrannical tend to prevail, the victims being forgotten or exploited for the victor's gain (ie the pornography of force). The jawbones of asses is a biblical reference, and goes along with another theme of the song: Fucking religion.
It's a reference to the actual actions of the victors, because the 'jawbones of asses' is a reference to some biblical passage describing a man killing a thousand with the jawbone of a donkey. In other words, the often times horrible methods utilized in order to conquer the victim is cast away and hidden from the public eye.
The victor is then painted as a saint. Then you have the last couple of lines, and that rapturous guitar solo. 'Terminal phase' is now, where climate change is increasingly more evident in our daily lives, and the global atmosphere is not exactly peaceful. The next line is, basically, just saying that if your given a shit life, then you should simply 'dance'. Last line is just a fuck you to authority.
Propaghandi fucking rocks, and this song is great. General CommentFiresetsboy you are correct. An article in the Globe and Mail states that 'The title track imagines mainstream history as a film that 'exalts only the pornography of force. As we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off the stage'. The song's terse rhetoric resones with the cover reproduction of The Triumph of Mischief, a huge canvas by Cree artist Kent Monkman that burlesques both the standard history of Canadian settlement and the pictorial codes of 19th-century frontier art.' The line about 'the pornography of force' seems especially meaningful. As was mentioned, this is clearly referring to the idea that recorded history is written by the victors, the people in power, the 'murders and psychopaths'.
But I believe that using the term 'pornography' to describe violence is especially apt. History only seems to remember major events, mostly violent events such as war, acts of terrorism, murders, assassinations, etc, and these events are often exploited and fetishized in much the same manner as sex, and pornography. General CommentThis song plays with the meaning of Caste (en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caste) which is a social hierarchy, or status, used in India and different places. It's widely known for being extremely static, that means that moving from status is almost impossible, a person that is born a farmer, will die as farmer, and so will his family. You may be wondering what does this have to do with the song, and that's when Cast and Caste come along. If you read well, you can figure the Cast and Caste thing here: to the script made on behalf of a supporting cast(e). The supporting cast in a movie barely has any importance, it's just there to fill the movie or play.
Propagandhi here is hardly criticizing how history only exalts the high society, the kings, people with powers (even superpowers), etc. Any other, no matter what you do, is another part of the supporting cast(e). There's no reward for the supporting cast, 'no floral bouquet', 'no recurring role'. General Comment'Because history exalts only the pornography of force that of murderers and psychopaths (the rest of us, of course, stricken from the narrative wholesale: a back drop to the tale) as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with the jawbones of asses. No stirring curtain call for the masses. No floral bouquet. No breaking of legs.
No recurring role. No artistic control.
' Someone on here talked about this part - and they are completely off! If you know propagandhi, their political beliefs - AND if you are aware of what has been going on around the world, - you will see that this song is about how we humans are peons/sheep-like and the only awareness that we have of reality - history - and/or - events that we are exposed to, is what-ever the 'murderers and psychopaths' THE POWERFUL/THE RICH - allow us to think about, - and they will dictate how we can look at these things. (we people are given shit, with icing and sprinkles on it, - told that it is cake, and we eat it 99% of the time.) In history, and in the current times - most humans have been mostly sheep-like, and do nothing more than - 'subjugate and serve' the - 'murderers and psychopaths', that he talks about. Murderers and psychopaths = Those that have brought the most death, misery, oppression, injustice, tyrrany and inhumanity to the world. THE POWERFUL / THE RICH The old men- old money, that dictates every aspect of our lives, and guide us to live like peons - our quality of life and well-being at the mercy of this twisted, demented, destructive, horrifying, and unjust thing called Empire, that rules over all of the planet.See - Vietnam, Iraq, Palestine. The murderers and psychopaths are the Empires, Kings, Queens, Governments, and Institutions that are experts in conflict engineering and conflict profiteering.Personal note - If you get your news primarily from TV or US news (Including - NPR/PBS) - You are being lied to - one way or another 99.9% of the time.
Just understand that. General CommentThis song is amazing, definetly one of the best Propagandhi songs ever. Although it doesn't have such strong lyrics that are down to the point. This whole album is more metaphorically based. Anyway, this is what I think the song is about: 'When the credits finally roll for this, the worst story ever told, don't bother sifting through the names for yours or anyone you know.'
-I think this is basically saying that when this story finishes, don't bother wondering who this song is about as they are not from this time, 'or anyone you know'. 'Unless they were by chance a shepherd king, a virgin birth, a resurrection, a messianic prince or some such childish thing.' -I think what they are doing here is referring to the Biblical story of Jesus, and saying that the people in the story are childish - or the story of Jesus is unrealistic. 'Virgin Birth' 'Ressurection' etc are all linked with Jesus and Christianity. 'You can storm the edit suite or move to block its theatrical release, but I think we can safely guarantee that there will be no revisions to the script made on behalf of a supporting cast(e).' - I think this is basically saying that you can complain about all the people believing in it, and I think the revisions bit is sarcastic (he's probably sarcastically saying that the bible hasn't changed as time has moved on and been modified) I don't get the supporting cast(e) bit though maybe referring to the people who support Christ or whatever.
'Because history exalts only the pornography of force that of murderers and psychopaths (the rest of us, of course, stricken from the narrative wholesale: a back drop to the tale) as we, the two-bits, are ushered on and swiftly off this stage with the jawbones of asses. No stirring curtain call for the masses. No floral bouquet. No breaking of legs. No recurring role.
No artistic control. ' - I think it is saying that as time has gone on, that history exalts abuse, or manipulation (pornography is a metaphor) of force, so they are forced to succumb to abuse or manipulation. The murderers and psychopaths are probably referring to holy wars, and extremists who are militant to others that don't follow their religion. 'And so in these days, in this terminal phase' -He is referring to modern society, and how it has become the terminal phase, or near to the end of the world, (like terminal in 'terminal illness'), Chris Hannah has shown his belief in that the world will end soon due to global warming, over-population, etc (couple decades? Cant remember exactly) 'It's all left to chance' This world is very unpredictable he isn't exactly sure when the world will end 'A piece of advice: if you're cast on thin ice, you may as well dance.' -The on thin ice bit is a metaphor for being in trouble or a very dangerous situation, and the dance bit means to confront it with confidence, be fearless, comedic and you get what I mean. 'Do what you feel you must, but as for me I was not put upon this earth to subjugate or serve.'
-He doesn't want to serve this prison in the capitalist, hedonist-inclining world. General CommentFiresetsboy, you said exactly what I was thinking when I was reading that other interpretation, so right on. Expulsive, are you serious? You seem more interested in inserting your own political leanings into the conversation than anything else. You criticize his songwriting as 'oversimplification' as if you're not guilty of that yourself in your little review. The comment 'he's fallen into the all too familiar trap of emphasising the 'story' (as in, a factual and objectively viewed narrative) in 'history' makes it completely obvious that you've missed the point entirely. And the whole Marxist/feminist thing?
Come on man, go back to watching Sean Hannity. Did you steal this album from your grandson or something? Anyway, I think Firesetsboy described this song pretty well. As it says at the beginning of the hilarious Hollywood comedy Braveheart, 'History is written by those who have murdered heroes.'