But You, Sir, You shall die. That is what it is about

Claus Carstensen
2003 Parallax  
The text has previously been published in the Danish newspaper Information March 17th-18th 2001. Although evolving around another genocide than the one discussed on the exhibition Pavilion Of The Naked (Galleri Tom Christoffersen 30.05.-28.06.2008), the text touches upon the same subject matters. At least fifty mostly decomposed cadavers covered the floor, wadded in clothing, their belongings strewn about and smashed. Macheted skulls had rolled here and there. The dead looked like pictures of
more » ... e dead. They did not smell. They did not buzz with flies. They had been killed thirteen months earlier, and they hadn't been moved. The killers killed all day at Nyarubuye. At night they cut the Achilles tendons of survivors and went off to feast behind the church, roasting cattle looted from their victims in big fires, and drinking beer. (Bottled beer, banana beer -Rwandans may not drink more beer than other Africans, but they drink prodigious quantities of it around the clock.) And, in the morning, still drunk after whatever sleep they could find beneath the cries of their prey, the killers at Nyarubuye went back and killed again.
doi:10.1080/1353464032000048007 fatcat:simzarqyezhj7h2p6oh6cqtk3q