Rendeece – Endgame Sessions part III – Haven’t I Enough To Do Without Burying People?

The third installment in the Endgame series by Greek electronic experimental producer Rendeece!!




Rendeece – Is Mother Pegg’s light on? – Light! How could anyone’s light be on? – Extinguished! – Naturally it’s extinguished. If it’s not on it’s extinguished. – No, I mean Mother Pegg. – But naturally she’s extinguished! – Is she buried? – Buried! Who would have buried her?

Rendeece – I once knew a madman who thought the end of the world had come. He was a painter and engraver. I used to go and see him, in the asylum. I’d take him by the hand and drag him to the window. Look! There! All that rising corn! And there! Look! The sails of the herring fleet! All that loveliness! He’d snatch away his hand and go back into his corner. Appalled. All he had seen was ashes. – A madman? When was that? – Oh way back, way back, you weren’t in the land of the living. – God be with those days.

Rendeece – Do you not think this has gone on long enough? – Yes! What? – This… this… thing. – I’ve always thought so. You not? – Then it’s a day like any other day. – As long as it lasts.

Rendeece – Scoundrel! Why did you engender me? – I didn’t know. – What? What didn’t you know? – That it’d be you.

Rendeece – The man came crawling towards me, on his belly… It was an extra-ordinarily bitter day, I remember, zero by the thermometer. But considering it was Christmas Eve there was nothing… extra-ordinary about that… He raised his face to me, black with mingled dirt and tears. No no, don’t look at me, don’t look at me. He dropped his eyes and mumbled something, apologies I presume… Come on now, what is the object of this invasion? It was a glorious bright day, I remember, fifty by the heliometer, but already the sun was sinking down into the… down among the dead. Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labors… It was then he took the plunge. It’s my little one, he said… My little boy, he said, as if the sex mattered. Where did he come from? He named the hole. What are you insinuating? That the place is still inhabited? No no, not a soul, except himself and the child—assuming he existed… And you expect me to believe you have left your little one back there, all alone, and alive into the bargain? It was a howling day, I remember, a hundred by the anenometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them… away. Come on, man, speak up, what is it you want from me, I have to put up my holly. Well to make it short it finally transpired that what he wanted from me was… bread for his brat? Bread? But I have no bread. Then perhaps a little corn? Corn, yes, I have corn, it’s true, in my granaries. But use your head. I give you some corn, a pound, a pound and a half, you bring it back to your child and you make him—if he’s still alive—a nice pot of porridge. The colors come back into his little cheeks—perhaps. And then? Use your head. You’re on earth, there’s no cure for that! It was an exceedingly dry day, I remember, zero by the hygrometer. Ideal weather, for my lumbago. But what in God’s name do you imagine? That the earth will awake in the spring? That the rivers and seas will run with fish again? That there’s manna in heaven still for imbeciles like you? Well to make it short I finally offered to take him into my service. He had touched a chord… In the end he asked me would I consent to take in the child as well—if he were still alive. It was the moment I was waiting for. Would I consent to take in the child… I can see him still, down on his knees, his hands flat on the ground, glaring at me with his mad eyes, in defiance of my wishes.

Rendeece – Let us pray to God. – Again! – Me sugar-plum! – God first! Are you right? – Off we go. – And you? – Our Father which art…  – Silence! In silence! Where are your manners? Off we go. Well? – Wait! Nothing doing! – The bastard!! He doesn’t exist. – Not yet.

Rendeece –Whom did you call when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark? Your mother? No. Me. We let you cry. Then we moved you out of earshot, so that we might sleep in peace. I was asleep, as happy as a king, and you woke me up to have me listen to you. It wasn’t indispensable, you didn’t really need to have me listen to you. I hope the day will come when you’ll really need to have me listen to you, and need to hear my voice, any voice. Yes, I hope I’ll live till then, to hear you calling me like when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark, and I was your only hope.

Rendeece – What are you doing? – Putting things in order. I’m going to clear everything away! – Order! – I love order. It’s my dream. A world where all would be silent and still and each thing in its last place, under the last dust. – What in God’s name do you think you’re doing? – I’m doing my best to create a little order. – Drop it! – After all, there or elsewhere.