Ultraviolence

The video above is a beautiful edit I found on YouTube of Jonestown to Lana's song Ultraviolence that puts everything into perspective perfectly. (All quotes in this chapter are actual quotes said by Jim Jones from the death tape.)

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It was November 18, 1978.
Earlier that morning a storm had blown through Jonestown, some would later say that evil itself had blown into our perfect little town. He had called me to him as the sky turned black and the thunder crashed.

"Come on DN."
That's all he'd said, reaching a hand out to me.
He used to call me DN. That stood for Deadly Nightshade. He told me that he called me that because I was filled with poison. Jim told me that. He told me that I was blessed with beauty and rage.
The nervous malace that vibrated from him as I took his hand told me that paradise would soon come to an end.
I knew the outsiders had caused this. They couldn't leave him alone. They couldn't leave us alone. I could only watch as he self destructed slowly, dragging me and everyone else down with him. He had been gone for a while now I just couldn't bring myself to admit it. I had thought I could pull him back. Thought I could save him.
•
I stood faithfully beside him, wide eyed, catatonic, as he sweet talked them all into death.

"How very much I've loved you. How very much I've tried my best to give you a good life. But in spite of all of my trying a handful of our people, with their lies, have made our lives impossible. There's no way to detach ourselves from what's happened today."

His words made tears well up in my eyes, knowing he was right. I left his side for a moment, strolling like an apparition through the busy masses of people who were bidding his will.
•
I could hear the sirens. Sirens. All around us. Some blaring from the loudspeakers throughout our little paradise.
Others coming from those who he felt forced him to do this.
They were coming for him, to take him away.
He knew that.
"Take our life from us. We laid it down. We got tired. We didn't commit suicide. We committed an act of revolutionary suicide protesting the conditions of an inhumane world."
My body shook from the chill of his words. Some of his last, beautiful words. The kind that can only spill from the most beautiful of minds.
"If we can't live in peace then let's die in peace."
The tears slipped from my eyes dropping onto the churning dust below my feet.
I could hear the violence. So much violence.
Screams of pain, of triumph, of disappointment and loss and victory. My head was spinning with horror.
I can hear the sirens.
Military planes shot overhead, rumbling the very ground on which his faithful congregation lay dying.
I would have lost my mind if there were anything left to lose of it.
I can hear the violence.
All that used to be my mind was now him entirely.
Everything that was me, was his. And I lived for it.
"My sweet poison. It's our turn to go."
Thats all he'd said. He used to call me poison. Like I was poison ivy.
I could have died right then, simply because he was right beside me. All I'd striven for in my life, it's only purpose was to please him. To be accepted by him.
He took my hand as another plane shot over our heads not knowing what to do as they looked down on us.
I watched it's reflection in his sun glasses, waiting for his command as he stared at the sky.
He knew they were coming for him. I knew it too.
I didn't want to die but I couldn't lose him either. My heart pounded in my chest, my very soul being rent in half.
The noises of violence were starting to become quieter. Dying out. Scattered in the wind.
I had to fix this.
•
"Please don't do this."
I whispered clasping his hands in mine and staring up at him. My eyes were so blurry with tears I could barely make out his face.

"You said we would fight! You said we could beat this!"
He looked at me with no emotion.

I though for a fleeting moment of how hard it had been at first, to love someone who loved everyone one the way he did. He'd hurt me but it felt like true love.
I thought of how hard it would be to go on without him.

"Let's go back to New York. We can go back til it's dark. Where they don't know who we are!"
I knew it was a lost cause but I had to try.

"If heaven is on earth like you said then how will it still be that way if your not here anymore?"
Tears ran like rivers from my eyes.

"I'll die without you, please let's just run away! Like when we were kids!"
I was sobbing now, the words tumbling out.

•

I saw his hand rear back before hitting me. It wasn't a hard hit. It felt like a kiss. Just something he had to do to wake me up. To make me realize he was right.

I stopped crying, looking at his face as the last tear ran down my cheek. I studied him for all it was worth because I never wanted to forget what he looked like, who he was. He gently laid a hand on my cheek where he struck me and I laid my hand on top of his closing my eyes for a moment. In that moment I knew that loving him was never enough. My love couldn't pull him back, it couldn't save him. So for the last time I would do exactly what he asked.

•

He laid me down, in the middle of everything we'd built. Everything we'd made and loved. The center of our universe. He held the cup to my lips as I drank. I never let go of his hand until he kissed both of my eyes and laid me down, ever so gently. More gently then he'd ever been before. As my vision started to blur I softly whispered what I hoped he'd remember forever.

"I love you the first time,
I love you the last time,
Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines.
'Cause I'm your jazz singer,
And you're my cult leader,
I love you forever,
I love you forever..."

•

As I closed my eyes for the very last time I could see him standing above me. That sweet smile on his face. The one that always brought a lump to my throat as he whispered, "Goodnight my darlings, sleep tight."

¥

I began reading about the Jonestown murder/suicide and as my interest grew I noticed that many singers/songwriters use pieces of audios left from Jonestown in their music or wrote songs about Jim Jones in particular who was responsible for the massacre. One of these included Lana Del Rey who wrote Ultraviolence about him specifically (there's been some controversy on whether it's actually about him but Lana has confirmed it saying she became interested in Jim after joining a cult herself as a young girl). This song hit hard because it was if Lana was singing from a first person point of view of the horror that happened at Jonestown in the moments that it was happening but she added a touch of romanticism which made it even more emotional for me personally. Every time I heard it a story flashed through my head and it just hasn't left so I decided to throw in all of the information that I've learned together with Lana's song to create that story. A lot of this story is mine based off of Jonestown facts but some of it is Lana lyrics as well. Bold quotes are Jim's from the deathtape.