(extract of Latter days of humanity) The grumbler at his office (reading) : "Desiring to establish the exact time required for a tree that stands in the forest turns into paper, the boss of a paper mill had the idea to make a very interesting experience. At 7:35, he knocked down three trees in the nearby woods and, after stripping, taking them to the plant pulp. The transformation of the three tree trunks in wood cellulose liquid was so fast that from 9:39, the first roll of printing paper came out of the machine. This roll was taken immediately to the printing of a newspaper to four miles away, and at 11 o'clock in the morning, the newspaper was sold in the street. It has therefore took three hours and twenty-five minutes to allow the public to read the latest news on material from trees whose branches on the same morning, birds chirped again. "
It is five hours. The answer is there. The echo of my bloody madness ... How? We would be traveling salesmen weapons factories, not supposed to testify with their mouths but their business performance with their bodies of the inferiority of the competition? Where travelers were many, there will be plenty of lame ! They transform the sales areas into battlefields, either! They had the power to the most noble of mind in the service of villainy, the devil himself would have dared imagine such a consolidation of his power. And if he had whispered that the first year of the war an oil refinery would be 137% of net earnings over the entire share capital and 73% David Fanto, the Creditanstalt 19.9 million net profit, and that dealers in meat, sugar, fuel alcohol, fruit, potatoes, butter, leather, rubber, coal, iron, wool, soap, oil, ink, arms would be compensated many times over the depreciation of the blood of others, the devil himself would have voted in favor of peace by renunciation! And that's why you crawled over four years in the mud, that's why the letters were hampered you were designed, selected books that would comfort you. They wanted you to stay alive because they had not stolen enough in their exchanges, not enough lied in their newspapers, not enough people abused their offices, not yet quite distraught humanity, not yet drawn enough pretext of the war to justify their disability and sadism - they had not yet finished dancing in the carnival tragic when men were dying in front of reporters to war and where female butchers became Doctor of Letters _honoris causa_ ... Statesmen, called fast decay only to curb the bestial instincts of humanity, have unfettered! Under the cloak of technical, hysteria is sweeping nature, the paper command to arms. We were handicapped by the action of the rotary before the guns do the victims. All areas of the imagination had they not been evacuated? At the end was the Word. Whoever killed the spirit had no other choice but to generate action. And it is the press who did this, by itself, it has corrupted the world with his whoring. It's not that she has set in motion the machinery of death but have emptied our heart to the point we can no longer imagine the likely outcome, that is his responsibility for the war!
... And you, sacrificed, you did not rebel against this project? You did not defend against mandatory death the ultimate freedom and cons of becoming arsonists? Cons This diabolical ruse to demand, under the banner of moral pathos, sacrifice for the benefit of the wool market ... And the glory and the fatherland in all this? You were naked as before God and your beloved face a commission of brutes and bastards! Country, we have seen in the thirst for power of the slave unchained and the amenity of the blackmailer thirsty tip. Except that we, if we had seen that in the guise of these atrocious general - who interfered during this great era in the pages of the Spectator cabbage leaves instead of the ladies of the high order of attest in this world we do not just fornicate, it also kills - in fact we had hoped at the close of this bloody mess!
How you there, and killed, cheated, you did not rebel against this company? You have supported freedom and lives of these beautiful media strategists, parasites and buffoons, like your unhappiness and your constraints? Knowing they were receiving honors for your suffering? You do not have their glory spat in his face? Sleeping in trains of wounded that these scoundrels could spread in the press? You do are not escaped, have not defected to join the holy war: to free us from the rear of the enemy we are bombarded daily deadly brain with his lies? You are dead for this trade? You have endured the horror to extend ours, which we here Tirions language between the wear and distress, painful contrasts between the irrelevance of consumption and plump dumb. Oh, you felt less compassion for us than we do for you, we who claim they want a hundredfold every hour all these years they have torn from your life, we who had always one question at the mouth to look like you if you survive that? When you have escaped the ultimate goal of the glory that hyenas do your graves and offer guides to the curiosity of tourists! Disease, poverty, decay, lice, hunger, agony, death at the front, all to raise tourism - that is our common lot! They have risked your skin and in our own minds practice has earned purses. You, you had weapons - and you are not parties to attack the rear? You did not turn around to save us and you, leaving this area of shame for the most honest of wars? Dead, you do not raise your holes in the ground, bringing to this filth, to haunt his sleep of your faces grimacing flown at the time of death, with eyes dimmed by waiting heroic, with your mask unforgettable staging of madness imposed on your youth! So stand up and fight them with your heroic death to the cowardice that control life finally knows her features and she looks at her eyes in the eye, a life! Tear them to sleep in your cry of agony! Disturb their enjoyment by the ghost of your suffering! They were able to kiss the girls night after the day they have strangled you! Save us from them, save us a peace that brings plague their neighborhood! Save us from calamity to shake the hand of military judges returned home and returned to civilian executioners.
Help, the slain! Help me, I am not obliged to live among men, by ambition or survival instinct, ordered that hearts stop beating, that mothers have white hair! Come back! Ask them what they did to you! What they did when you were suffering through their own fault before dying because of them! ... corpses with weapons, tear up this petrified! Come on! Advance, dear supporter of the mind, and calling them your dear head! And you - where are you, you who are dead in the hospital? They sent me my last card with the notification: "Out of the hospital. Address unknown. "Advance to tell them where you are and how it is there, tell them that you never wanted to let you use for that! ... This is not your death - your life I want revenge those you have inflicted!
It is five hours. The answer is there. The echo of my bloody madness ... How? We would be traveling salesmen weapons factories, not supposed to testify with their mouths but their business performance with their bodies of the inferiority of the competition? Where travelers were many, there will be plenty of lame ! They transform the sales areas into battlefields, either! They had the power to the most noble of mind in the service of villainy, the devil himself would have dared imagine such a consolidation of his power. And if he had whispered that the first year of the war an oil refinery would be 137% of net earnings over the entire share capital and 73% David Fanto, the Creditanstalt 19.9 million net profit, and that dealers in meat, sugar, fuel alcohol, fruit, potatoes, butter, leather, rubber, coal, iron, wool, soap, oil, ink, arms would be compensated many times over the depreciation of the blood of others, the devil himself would have voted in favor of peace by renunciation! And that's why you crawled over four years in the mud, that's why the letters were hampered you were designed, selected books that would comfort you. They wanted you to stay alive because they had not stolen enough in their exchanges, not enough lied in their newspapers, not enough people abused their offices, not yet quite distraught humanity, not yet drawn enough pretext of the war to justify their disability and sadism - they had not yet finished dancing in the carnival tragic when men were dying in front of reporters to war and where female butchers became Doctor of Letters _honoris causa_ ... Statesmen, called fast decay only to curb the bestial instincts of humanity, have unfettered! Under the cloak of technical, hysteria is sweeping nature, the paper command to arms. We were handicapped by the action of the rotary before the guns do the victims. All areas of the imagination had they not been evacuated? At the end was the Word. Whoever killed the spirit had no other choice but to generate action. And it is the press who did this, by itself, it has corrupted the world with his whoring. It's not that she has set in motion the machinery of death but have emptied our heart to the point we can no longer imagine the likely outcome, that is his responsibility for the war!
... And you, sacrificed, you did not rebel against this project? You did not defend against mandatory death the ultimate freedom and cons of becoming arsonists? Cons This diabolical ruse to demand, under the banner of moral pathos, sacrifice for the benefit of the wool market ... And the glory and the fatherland in all this? You were naked as before God and your beloved face a commission of brutes and bastards! Country, we have seen in the thirst for power of the slave unchained and the amenity of the blackmailer thirsty tip. Except that we, if we had seen that in the guise of these atrocious general - who interfered during this great era in the pages of the Spectator cabbage leaves instead of the ladies of the high order of attest in this world we do not just fornicate, it also kills - in fact we had hoped at the close of this bloody mess!
How you there, and killed, cheated, you did not rebel against this company? You have supported freedom and lives of these beautiful media strategists, parasites and buffoons, like your unhappiness and your constraints? Knowing they were receiving honors for your suffering? You do not have their glory spat in his face? Sleeping in trains of wounded that these scoundrels could spread in the press? You do are not escaped, have not defected to join the holy war: to free us from the rear of the enemy we are bombarded daily deadly brain with his lies? You are dead for this trade? You have endured the horror to extend ours, which we here Tirions language between the wear and distress, painful contrasts between the irrelevance of consumption and plump dumb. Oh, you felt less compassion for us than we do for you, we who claim they want a hundredfold every hour all these years they have torn from your life, we who had always one question at the mouth to look like you if you survive that? When you have escaped the ultimate goal of the glory that hyenas do your graves and offer guides to the curiosity of tourists! Disease, poverty, decay, lice, hunger, agony, death at the front, all to raise tourism - that is our common lot! They have risked your skin and in our own minds practice has earned purses. You, you had weapons - and you are not parties to attack the rear? You did not turn around to save us and you, leaving this area of shame for the most honest of wars? Dead, you do not raise your holes in the ground, bringing to this filth, to haunt his sleep of your faces grimacing flown at the time of death, with eyes dimmed by waiting heroic, with your mask unforgettable staging of madness imposed on your youth! So stand up and fight them with your heroic death to the cowardice that control life finally knows her features and she looks at her eyes in the eye, a life! Tear them to sleep in your cry of agony! Disturb their enjoyment by the ghost of your suffering! They were able to kiss the girls night after the day they have strangled you! Save us from them, save us a peace that brings plague their neighborhood! Save us from calamity to shake the hand of military judges returned home and returned to civilian executioners.
Help, the slain! Help me, I am not obliged to live among men, by ambition or survival instinct, ordered that hearts stop beating, that mothers have white hair! Come back! Ask them what they did to you! What they did when you were suffering through their own fault before dying because of them! ... corpses with weapons, tear up this petrified! Come on! Advance, dear supporter of the mind, and calling them your dear head! And you - where are you, you who are dead in the hospital? They sent me my last card with the notification: "Out of the hospital. Address unknown. "Advance to tell them where you are and how it is there, tell them that you never wanted to let you use for that! ... This is not your death - your life I want revenge those you have inflicted!
Karl Kraus 1919.
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