In the Name of the Father (But Without Spirit)

Do you know what an earworm is? The technical term is ‘involuntary musical imagery’ (IMI) and refers to those catchy choruses or gimmicks you can't get out of your head, even after hearing them just once. They keep playing on a loop long after the music has stopped, and the most annoying thing is that, oftentimes, we don't even like these tunes.

Two particularly persistent examples come to mind: "Barbie Girl" and "Sigma Boy". Both featuring lyrics as dull as a dishwater and a numbing beat. Yet, the mere mention of these titles is enough to set them looping in our heads as if they were dormant programs being reactivated. A bit like a jukebox. And that's exactly what it's all about. Advertising, political propaganda, mantras and other forms of indoctrination, all make extensive use of this phenomenon.

To break this repetitive cycle, we must therefore substitute our own words and shift the melody. It is important to know that, in this matrix, music is highly magnetised and acts in a spellbinding manner through human emotions (regardless of their nature), which generates the much-coveted loosh.

That's how the lyrics of this song came about: to break a spell and turn the weapon against its creators by altering the wave through vibration. Kind of hacking the matrix. I then uploaded my words to a music AI and with a prompt, it generated everything else (vocals, instrumentation, atmosphere, etc.). Such AIs may be soulless, but not devoid of resonance.

And I must admit that the result is quite impressive. But what matters most to me is not so much how it sounds, but rather how it makes you feel. What it conveys and stirs up in you. Or does not.

Please, note that this video clip was produced entirely without AI, using only royalty-free images.

These words are intended for those who confuse the voice of the programme with inner guidance. For those who preach light with inverted words, in a spiritual theatre where egos masquerade as prophets.    

These lyrics may thus resonate only with those who can see behind the scenes, recognise inversion and dissonance — and look beyond words. 

If it speaks to you, then it was meant for you.

Au nom du Père

You dream so hard of gathering
Your flock of strays
To herd them
Into your bubble of false sovereignty
Where no one will ever dare
Dethrone you
Ah ah ah ah ah ah
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

I will never be one of those
Who bow down before you
Or your phoney king
Poor astralised stooge,
In your dream, you're all by yourself
All by yourself
Ah ah ah ah ah ah
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

In the name of the Father, but without Spirit,
By mystery, not by faith
Ask yourself why... why you aren't king

You cast doubt, you charm them,
Knowing that none of your arguments
Make any sense
You think you've cracked
The writings and prophecies,
Yet still, you pray
Ah ah ah ah ah ah
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

Friday night messiah
You preach love and hope
In total ignorance
Poor spiritual castaway
In your dream, you're all by yourself
All by yourself
Ah ah ah ah ah ah
Oh oh oh oh oh
Oh oh oh

In the name of the Father, but without Spirit,
By mystery, not by faith
Ask yourself why... why you can't see

© La Pensine Mutine. All rights reserved. Reproduction prohibited.

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