"Thus my blood spoke to me, A child of a sanguine century, Born in a normal time, The periodic slaughter of millions By the civilized nations of the earth."
I think, however, it would be more linguistically accurate to say that most people want to be deceived, for the world, the earth doesn’t give a damn, as the French poet Jacques Prévert reminds us in “Song in the Blood”:
There are great puddles of blood on the world
where’s it all going all this spilled blood
is it the earth that drinks it and gets drunk
funny kind of drunkography then
so wise…so monotonous…
No the earth doesn’t get drunk
the earth doesn’t turn askew
it pushes its little car regularly its four seasons
rain…snow
hail…fair weather
never is it drunk
[…]
It doesn’t give a damn
The earth