Her Revolution, His Rope - Thom Yorke with Burial, Four Tet

Her Revolution

She is watching us now - Mkay, watching is what I'm doing. I'm finding out whether the latest little explosion will prove observable if I reveal the interior beforehand via a letter, -or not. The past has given me enough confidence to try. 

I suppose I will have to interpret the song from both directions since I am asserting the most essential lyric is wrong, she will sell us out. I simply appeal to you to listen to it, and check the other changes I've made against the original while you're at it, and see for yourself which you agree with or prefer. The line in question is a syllable short according to the official transcript and doesn't sound right. It sounds more like "never" with Thom dropping off on the second syllable. Of course the change in meaning is massive, being the direct opposite. And considering it was the center of my internal debate literally the whole time (TRIMB, basically from September 15th until October 3rd, starts at the mid of p. 15), in the sense of veering back and forth, for pages and pages, on the question of whether to tell or not tell, and asking what was wanted, it really matters what happens with respects to this element in the universal feedback right now. -Priceless, really, that the first thing I'd get back on this is ambiguous or opposing, forcing me to reconsider... -in a nutshell, the problem is would revelation itself simply be commodifying a personal relationship and that's selling out?

It is a question, not of what is fair (being permitted to produce the book under creative license is what's fair under the circumstances; everyone else did it (made it art), and I've a far nobler purpose they didn't have I've scrutinized for decades now). It's a question though, not of what is fair, but what is the right thing to do? And that boils down in this particular debate to whether establishing this reality is more of an unsafe rather than a safe thing to do. For me the question is just about impossible to differentiate because it's had no exposure outside of myself and it is indistinguishable for me whether the fear is unsubstantive and rooted in my historical abuse, as opposed to being a fear based on reality (the child staring out the window at the world expecting the danger inside to reflect outside). But my point in elucidating the question is that I've actually eliminated all the other vantages of this particular debate through the course of my life. Particularly the passage of the last seven years is testament that I'd accept the whole thing being destroyed by the "other side"'s willingness to sell out, and was solely capable of identifying it as a sellout, and willing to let the chips fall that way, which is strong testament indeed. (These two aspects are responsible for the cracks fissuring out from the center, what they both consigned me to.) For me it's always boiled down to the question of whether or not it was the right thing to do. That's another aspect of not selling out.  

A darling revolution
It is always in love           -Well I think it's the biggest love letter ever written in terms of an explanation (and in TRIMB top of p. 40, last paragraph on September 29th it theoretically translates as a universality), but we'll see what you think-

While we go spinning       -When I said "peeled off and danced" this involved spinning, although I didn't say it, p. 25 paragraph 3. And the sum of the interaction took place in the mind, as in offline, which is the point. At the moment social media came along to harvest us as information and map our every interaction for the same, that was the moment we demonstrated we were capable of connection without any connection.... Also 1st paragraph, p. 41, did involve me actually spinning....
Walking offline
As wings up in the sky

We are breaking a heart       -"Dear [           ]" is the history of getting my heart broken twice over. It is the discovery that what lies at the bottom of everything that has happened is a heart getting broken, a heart that was so confined and decimated by the circumstances it could no longer feel, except through final sublimation (that the verdict is unresolved on even being possible, but I'm pretty happy with it). But what lies at essence in that debate is whether what's felt is real or not, and whether it's the same as not feeling, as in what was mediating it being broken and unfeeling for 7-11 years in the first place? Which translation is the real one? Thom gives us the expression of a paradox, (my heart, it feels nothing) that I've been given no choice but to tell in the effort to escape it. The sum of my experience arrived out of having my heart broken and existential solitude I was not given a choice about. (I chose to not have my heart broken, and I definitely didn't choose a life sentence of self-awareness in existential solitude.) Attempting to prove what's happening is the direct opposite of that. Nonetheless I have been forcibly confined to existential solitude inside my own mind by all the particulars I've encountered on this for twenty years.

Says all this revolution
At such a cost            -"Vive la revolution" was Machina Mystery Part 8, my final pitch to "Glass" twenty years ago, which he didn't have the nerve to take up then. (It had zero to do with getting together, it was only about the affirmation "Yes, [the connection]'s real". That's my revolution....) I deliberately confined the implication to the context of June and Glass and music itself. The offer hasn't changed; I'm still hoping there's an individual out there willing to take it up, because the establishment of connective consciousness (which can only obtain veracity between myself and someone performing on "the other side") is the revolution I care about. I already paid the price in terms of a lifetime. It would be nice to have it pay off. It would be nice not to break me with the premise, by forcing it into the solitude of my own mind, anymore. Because let's face it, forcing it to abide inside the solitude of my own mind is the same verdict as saying it has never once existed, and this is the confinment I've been forced and relegated to by the particulars potentially involved (I think it's pretty safe to assert that they were involved at this threshold) for twenty years. 

His Rope

Here's the tiny piece of you I saved              -yes, like the bottom p. 31 (out of over 160 original pages) is where these next two verses happened.... one page out of 160 of what I relate...
I awake to the birds singing
I cut the rope, step out                             -How astonishing in that in the entirety of the interior hallucination I relate, the unidentified assembly of spirits have only one moment where they take an active role, which is that they autonomously choose to cut me down from bondage, depicted as being tied up with a massive amount of rope? -And Thom writing this lyrically is that act? 
In an instant it's all over
I'm done

Here's a tiny piece of you I saved
Just enough rope               -just enough rope to hang one's self. -The twist....
Just enough rope
Sex and death
Total self-destruction
Turn your body over
To me                    Thom writing this is this very act in itself, identifying the prone body that's been taken down. This song is identifying me for Thom Yorke. He has done it himself deliberately, though how deliberate that is in terms of myself is an open question. All I'm saying is I don't want this to transpire (again) in terms of the ramifications of what happened to David Bowie, with him expressing having never gotten to know as self-expression at the end of his life, with everything being left an open question. I was not responsible for it then, and I don't want it to keep happening. So this time, let's turn my body over, for real. Yes, I just completely avoided what the lyric would mean, in terms of the narrative. That's because it's so big. Who repatriated my body and what did H/he do when he did? It was literally the most important moment in the narrative. He knelt and produced the ring.

Thom has cut the rope figuratively. It’s a metaphor that’s exists now to help you to decide to actually do it. -That the feedback has told me, -that Thom has told me, that is what tells me it is the right thing (this is what it should tell you too), -regardless of what anyone else knows about or decides to do in this instance. (Perhaps I will remain alone, confined to the interior knowledge of knowing what it means for the rest of my life, which really just compounds the sentence of interior knowledge, while real life in the real world gets to sentence me to I won't say.) The only emancipation I have from the life sentence my father deliberately set my life up to be, is to countervail it by proving reality. The only way this proves real is by stepping into the room and thereby making it veritable. -That’s actually cutting the rope. The real reason the title is “His Rope”... is because was my father’s rope. 

-It's rather interesting that the song follows my interior pov a little too well, as we have the direct evolution into "sex and death" and "total self destruction", basically the extrapolation of my world view in terms of what patriarchy enabled on a world scale. In other words, welcome to my "sex and death" footnote. I exhort you to find a more existential nutshell of the direct correlation between "sex and death" than what my argument portrays here as really happening right now, (namely the commodification of all reproduction (i.e., the advent of amoral capitalism) for the sake of an infinite growth economy which overheated and destroyed the planet), footnote #8 in the delivery made December 5th. Anyway, good f***ing luck finding a more direct correlation in terms of an existential argument of what not to do with sex..... This concept is threaded through the pre-dated writ itself; -it appears in (the unrevised letter you don't have) notes portion in a nutshell of two sentences on p. 109 paragraph 3, also paragraph 4. p. 80, and the first paragraph p. 113. We can argue til the cows come home on the question of whether I am right about my theory or not, agree to disagree, whatever. That is not the point! The real implication is that this has appeared in immediate exacting reflection in the first place.