We all have a little god in us, and that god has gone crazy. Crazy on the peyote delivered across the desert to all our willing and naive minds. Crazy on the information overload that's just a click away, awaiting furious consumption. Polluting the rivers of blood that plead with systems for continued life force and compromising the neurons of our mind. Third eye, mind's eye, all slowly dissipating into a state of engulfing paranoia, a trip much less enjoyable without actual medicinal consumption.
34 minutes. My aim is to free write throughout the entirety of Bring the Sun/Toussaint L'Overture. Lets see the baked images my brain regurgitates.
An ominous cloud forms over the planet Earth, blocking the sun, the moon and the stars, delivering an ominous message from the gods of the universe. The endtimes aren't here, nay, the endtimes have just begun.
Oh, you thought they'd been developing, processing and shipping their methodical hints for decades now, did you? You thought this was just the final resting place for the gravebound planet, did you? Do you see now? Does your paralysis reveal anything new to your periphery? The haunting, shadowless blackness, once a Biblical symbol of Apocalyptic riders, harbingers of chaos, signals of destruction, instead offering no remains of long overstudied and overruined text. Instead just a signpost, with damning evidence of a long-scorched human race. A blender of cultures, burnt to a crisp by one confounding message of universal annihilation, one that doesn't subject you to your sins, lifestyles, choices...no salvation for the chosen few. Blackness. Death-compared blackness.
A hybrid of emotions. Worldwide neurosis. Everybody was wrong. Everybody wishing suddenly that this cloud would dissipate and the Earth would conclude its life cycle on a breakneck collision course with the Sun. Bring the sun, bring the sun! Bring the heat, the cooked flesh of death and ultimate ending chapter. Why such a coda? The black cloud delivers a tone that states the exit wound of this world's planetary inhabitants. Not all, mind you, just those evolved enough to evolve hate and separation into groups of those allowed to enjoy paradise and those scheduled to eternal torture. Just them. A universal cosmic phenomena perhaps only signaled by the planet herself. Gaia's defense. Gaia's last stand against a pesky mite colony that destroys her skin and ruins her oxygen. A colony that pollinates with itself recklessly, and elevates their offspring to the status of untouchable being, only to neglect and stunt their development.
The natural order looks on this colony of human mites with stunned silence. The same stunning feeling they've had for generations. The same motions have been taken, but over the course of centuries, the internal monologue has shifted to include one extra, lurid idea with unbridled fear, "these are the beings that could end our world?"
Humankind lurks in defense of their home. Turning to help one another only leads to a global contamination of excess power. The separated power trip instead leads to a toxic overhaul of powerlessness, with every leader balking at the chance of defense. Some claim divine reasons, others claim lack of resources, others bicker and threaten one another over reasons of noncompliance to standards, destruction of peace treaties, legal and national defense policy restrictions.....
Meanwhile the rest of humanity watches in horror.
The rest watch. The rest get angry, but the rest DO NOTHING.
The cloud turns from black to deep red, and phantom clouds reach down toward the drying Earth. The blackness removing its water to near catastrophic levels, the phantom clouds urinate an acidic rain that further deconstructs the man-made Earthly creations. Homes begin to corrode, cars degrade into nothingness, roads break down, people begin to get sick from interaction, death begins its stink.
Where's the light side? Where's the side of good? The heavenly forces of revelation have the game in front of them and have opted not to show up. Take a sick day. Perhaps for good reason.
This isn't the works of a Satanic force, nor of an antiforce that delivers a balance beam to the overbearing drive of the harbingers of light. Rather, this is natural order. This is a public service that the Earth is delivering herself. Gaia taking a shower, applying the proper medicine to dispose of the pests that threaten her livelihood. The acid urine is accompanied by fierce electricity. Lightning puts the threat lightly, instead seeming to be an opening, a rip in the fabrics of the atmosphere, shifting laws of physics and science while the faithful continue to stand in wait of their ultimate salvation.
Hooves are heard in the minds of those exposed to the acid. The acid alters their mind state to summon a hallucination of what they hoped would happen. They see horsemen, the angels of death and light. The mighty battle of revelation appears in front of them for the period of a few moments, then slowly starts of fade away into the reality of an Earth in chaos, without the mighty battle for the universe present. These visions sparkle and fade from time to time, leaving them frozen in place, their bodies slowly breaking down as they offer no defense. Soon, they die, with one final vision in sight. A vision of an angry Earth roaring to life, shifting plates, crumbling mountains and shaking violently. Some still offer this up to the divine, while others are illuminated into realization that no intervention occurred at all. The educated and non-religious fall to their knees in stunned disbelief, ultimately accepting defeat without much fight. The many fall, while the powerful still bicker about their fate.
Mankind then launches its final deathnail. World leaders summon their nuclear powers and bombs, launching them at random, hoping to strike whatever and whomever. Gaia is prepared, striking the bombs with the sky-opening lightning, transforming the acidic urine into radioactive waste, further melting away the beings infesting her skin. The battle causes great pain, the fumigation takes many innocent forms of collateral damage. World leaders begin to die from the radiation of their choices, while the survivors empty from their corroding buildings only to die upon reaching the decaying streets.
Nothing. One final worldwide flash.
Nobody.
A bloodied planet begins its healing process. The plates are reset, the land mass restored over the radioactive decay. Volcanoes flow nonstop magma to cover the evidence, while flooding rains rebuild the oceans and rivers.
Like nothing ever happened.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Musical Expansion
So its been quite a while since I last posted on here, Nation. This topic is something that I feel I would have a better time putting in the written text, but may make a video to accompany it, so be on the look out just in case that happens.
Today I've been cycling through some of my music collection, adding some new finds, a lot of them non-metal or at least non-traditional and its made me think about myself some. Its made me realize just how much age does tend to shift your music taste a little bit here and there. In reality, no music fan should listen to the same crop of artists throughout the entirety of their lives. Its actually rather impossible to do so, especially in an age where so many bands have their material available for purchase, and its actually easier to share things around than ever before. That said, one would imagine that my recent crop of buys, finds or general listens would be aimed at new bands, or hell, metal bands. Quite the opposite, really.
Heavy metal will always have a place in my heart, and I listen to it more often than I do any other genre of music. I review it for a second living, I love talking about it, and consider myself somewhat of a guru. Ok, no I don't, people have said that about me. They've come to me for advice, etc. I'm definitely not the best guy for that in my own opinion, but as my harshest critic, of course I'd say that. Recently, I've turned to various other styles of music to find my muse. Pushing 30 doesn't make your hero over the hill where young bucks should be buying me Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass albums, but the past year has redefined a lot about my listening habits.
Lets examine the past week just as an example. Coldplay, The Black Keys, Widespread Panic, Allman Brothers, Winger, Stevie Wonder, Santana, Afghan Whigs, just to name a few. Something seems absent, doesn't it? Where's the metal? Well, that's my spare time. The review time has been ripe with metal. Agalloch, Down, Killer Be Killed, just to name a few. However, the eclectic nature of my likes and maybe, just maybe, my age are really catching up.
As you grow up, your horizons should branch out by leaps and bounds. Its fair to prefer a style of music over all the others. After all, maybe you're just listening to a few cuts here and there from a spattering of artists, but that's still, in a way, showing appreciation for the vastness of music. After all, what really is wrong with loving jam bands, or southern rock, or new wave? What's a crime about listening to Blondie right after listening to Cannibal Corpse? Nothing. In fact, its pretty damn funny to hear the transition. Why not go from doo-wop to technical death metal to disco to rap to the blues? Beardfish to The Game to Stevie Wonder to Miles Davis? Its like musical chairs, and its a damn fun experience.
So many sounds are out there. Its not a tragedy, its a blessing. If you're ever bored with your music collection or have no idea what to listen to, just type in a name, then look on the side, at the recommended videos. Find a name that's not recognized by you, then play it. Or hell, go for a name that is, but you've never dove headlong into their work. You know who Barry White is, but you've never listened to Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe? Tonight's the night. Didn't realize that Joe Bonamassa did a cover of Tom Waits' "New Coat of Paint?" Listen to it, its blues bliss.
I've always been an ambassador of music, a role that hasn't always been obvious thanks to my anger-laced rants...but its because I want more out of the music of today. I want the children of this generation of teenagers to be able to go back 20-30 years musically and find work just as legendary as the wealth of musical joy we have. I don't want Lil' Wayne to be defined as the artist of this generation, because then this generation is a farce, a lie, a rouse. I'd rather shout to a small audience about the insanely talented work of those not going platinum than whisper at the masses for additional profit. You start small and you foster a change of heart. Sure, you won't get everyone, and you shouldn't. Music touches us all in different ways, and it should. But how, I ask, HOW, is someone emotionally connected with, "now come on and pop that pussy for a real nigga"? HOW? And how dead inside as an artist must you be to repeat that line in multiple songs? Is it some sort of call-back joke? Almost like Wayne saying, "i can spit the same verses and these dummies still make me platinum?" Sure seems like it. I don't care for Lil Wayne that much, but I don't see him as a moron.
Remember when something was big when you were a kid, and you wanted nothing to do with it? I do. Boy bands. Fuck. One of the most annoying fads of the late 90's which, by itself, killed the momentum of alternative rock and made it where a few similar sounding bands had to be seen as the alternative to the 4 to 5 piece boy sobbing. Nu-metal. Nope, not so new anymore, and really, not that relevant anymore, too. It has its place historically, and still maintains a fanbase, but the music many of these fans have moved on to isn't nu-metal. Five Finger Donkey Punch and Avenged Sevenfold? Nope, not nu-metal. Dissimilar sounds, man.
It may not seem like they've grown up, but they have. I see them buying Vanilla Ice or MC Hammer every so often, then shock the collective local universe by grabbing a U2 record. U2, Sonic Youth, Melvins, R.E.M., indie fans, remember where you came from.
Listen to something brand new tonight, and not from your genre of choice. Take a goddamn risk. Maybe I'm in the minority in finding this to be one of the most fun ideas or ways to spend an evening. Maybe you'd rather go on a marathon of Game of Vampires or True Life of an American Idiot, and hey, I like tv, too. I have a second channel that one of these days will be covering that with some gaming. But if you claim to love music, and love "everything" then you should try something off the wall every now and again.
Off to listen to Off the Wall. Who's the artist? Come on, this is an easy one...
Today I've been cycling through some of my music collection, adding some new finds, a lot of them non-metal or at least non-traditional and its made me think about myself some. Its made me realize just how much age does tend to shift your music taste a little bit here and there. In reality, no music fan should listen to the same crop of artists throughout the entirety of their lives. Its actually rather impossible to do so, especially in an age where so many bands have their material available for purchase, and its actually easier to share things around than ever before. That said, one would imagine that my recent crop of buys, finds or general listens would be aimed at new bands, or hell, metal bands. Quite the opposite, really.
Heavy metal will always have a place in my heart, and I listen to it more often than I do any other genre of music. I review it for a second living, I love talking about it, and consider myself somewhat of a guru. Ok, no I don't, people have said that about me. They've come to me for advice, etc. I'm definitely not the best guy for that in my own opinion, but as my harshest critic, of course I'd say that. Recently, I've turned to various other styles of music to find my muse. Pushing 30 doesn't make your hero over the hill where young bucks should be buying me Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass albums, but the past year has redefined a lot about my listening habits.
Lets examine the past week just as an example. Coldplay, The Black Keys, Widespread Panic, Allman Brothers, Winger, Stevie Wonder, Santana, Afghan Whigs, just to name a few. Something seems absent, doesn't it? Where's the metal? Well, that's my spare time. The review time has been ripe with metal. Agalloch, Down, Killer Be Killed, just to name a few. However, the eclectic nature of my likes and maybe, just maybe, my age are really catching up.
As you grow up, your horizons should branch out by leaps and bounds. Its fair to prefer a style of music over all the others. After all, maybe you're just listening to a few cuts here and there from a spattering of artists, but that's still, in a way, showing appreciation for the vastness of music. After all, what really is wrong with loving jam bands, or southern rock, or new wave? What's a crime about listening to Blondie right after listening to Cannibal Corpse? Nothing. In fact, its pretty damn funny to hear the transition. Why not go from doo-wop to technical death metal to disco to rap to the blues? Beardfish to The Game to Stevie Wonder to Miles Davis? Its like musical chairs, and its a damn fun experience.
So many sounds are out there. Its not a tragedy, its a blessing. If you're ever bored with your music collection or have no idea what to listen to, just type in a name, then look on the side, at the recommended videos. Find a name that's not recognized by you, then play it. Or hell, go for a name that is, but you've never dove headlong into their work. You know who Barry White is, but you've never listened to Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe? Tonight's the night. Didn't realize that Joe Bonamassa did a cover of Tom Waits' "New Coat of Paint?" Listen to it, its blues bliss.
I've always been an ambassador of music, a role that hasn't always been obvious thanks to my anger-laced rants...but its because I want more out of the music of today. I want the children of this generation of teenagers to be able to go back 20-30 years musically and find work just as legendary as the wealth of musical joy we have. I don't want Lil' Wayne to be defined as the artist of this generation, because then this generation is a farce, a lie, a rouse. I'd rather shout to a small audience about the insanely talented work of those not going platinum than whisper at the masses for additional profit. You start small and you foster a change of heart. Sure, you won't get everyone, and you shouldn't. Music touches us all in different ways, and it should. But how, I ask, HOW, is someone emotionally connected with, "now come on and pop that pussy for a real nigga"? HOW? And how dead inside as an artist must you be to repeat that line in multiple songs? Is it some sort of call-back joke? Almost like Wayne saying, "i can spit the same verses and these dummies still make me platinum?" Sure seems like it. I don't care for Lil Wayne that much, but I don't see him as a moron.
Remember when something was big when you were a kid, and you wanted nothing to do with it? I do. Boy bands. Fuck. One of the most annoying fads of the late 90's which, by itself, killed the momentum of alternative rock and made it where a few similar sounding bands had to be seen as the alternative to the 4 to 5 piece boy sobbing. Nu-metal. Nope, not so new anymore, and really, not that relevant anymore, too. It has its place historically, and still maintains a fanbase, but the music many of these fans have moved on to isn't nu-metal. Five Finger Donkey Punch and Avenged Sevenfold? Nope, not nu-metal. Dissimilar sounds, man.
It may not seem like they've grown up, but they have. I see them buying Vanilla Ice or MC Hammer every so often, then shock the collective local universe by grabbing a U2 record. U2, Sonic Youth, Melvins, R.E.M., indie fans, remember where you came from.
Listen to something brand new tonight, and not from your genre of choice. Take a goddamn risk. Maybe I'm in the minority in finding this to be one of the most fun ideas or ways to spend an evening. Maybe you'd rather go on a marathon of Game of Vampires or True Life of an American Idiot, and hey, I like tv, too. I have a second channel that one of these days will be covering that with some gaming. But if you claim to love music, and love "everything" then you should try something off the wall every now and again.
Off to listen to Off the Wall. Who's the artist? Come on, this is an easy one...
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