‘The Flesh of The World’ Will Make You Question God and also Yourself
The body speaks through the mouth. The mouth often screams. The Flesh of The World by Xandra Metcalfe, Uboa, are four tracks, spoken over twenty minutes. ‘Here it is asked, ‘where does a body end’’. The text is fearful and fearing, exploring the marred ground of body dysmorphia, the ‘schizophrenic dissolution’ of self, and the existence of an internal ‘other’. The space around us is sewn into our being, as time becomes irrelevant, space becomes the host for all thoughts. Who rules over this body, the ‘other’ or the god? The body is four tracks on a Bandcamp EP.
Terfs are shit. They are still breathing and using the deaths of children as a voice for their own rancid disputes. They are creatures. They seep into our fears. As does the dysphoria itself. To those whom it is known, it is the killer. Metcalfe is exploring this dissociation here. Body is body.
Initially, Metcalfe reasons an objective idea of what the body is, sightless and sensory (Exsanguination). The body is whole, addressed in one. Equivalency is established, the body is words, the words are body. As a result, the objective ideas of self are ubiquitous but ephemeral. The body is unravelling. The body is unclear. The body hurts.
‘I am drained
I am bloodless
I am pure’
Broken mirrors toy with our sight (Inside/Outside). Eyes establish reality. Metcalfe posits that with an ‘other’, a god, integral to our being, we search for a sanctity that our eyes, and our consciousness deny us of. A sacred self we may never know. The infinite body becomes the subject of infinite self destruction (God, Unbounded).
You see us and you wonder what we truly are. ‘Not a woman / but the image of one’ (The Flesh of The World). The body is a mass of ruin and rupture. But, the body is as much at the torment of the inner god, as much as it is ‘Godlike’. It is worthless, but it is entirety. The body is all we have. We are not at its mercy. The body is our voice.
‘I am everything
I am everyone
I am everything’
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