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Halloween!
1 min read
Prevyet, my comrades, my loyal followers, my sisters and brothers in the war against all that would stand in the path of chaos and insanity!
There is much to be said on this greatest and last day of October, in the two-thousandth and twelfth year of our tyrannical Lord, yet so little time to say it all! But rest assured, I shall return in time to give you a more complete exposition of all that I, your humble prophet and admirer, have done and had done to me!
But first, I must rest - suffice it to say that my "Halloween experience" has left me somewhat lacking in the realm of cognitive function.
Stay tuned!
There is much to be said on this greatest and last day of October, in the two-thousandth and twelfth year of our tyrannical Lord, yet so little time to say it all! But rest assured, I shall return in time to give you a more complete exposition of all that I, your humble prophet and admirer, have done and had done to me!
But first, I must rest - suffice it to say that my "Halloween experience" has left me somewhat lacking in the realm of cognitive function.
Stay tuned!
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Broken Shackles
2 min read
One of the most magical experiences of my life occurred yesterday afternoon when, after eleven months of impeccable functionality, my mp3 player headphones broke. I do not mean they ceased to create sound – quite the opposite, in fact. They broke in their ability to create sound as it was intended to be. Instead, they now emit dual streams of warped, distorted, and, yes, perverted parodies of the songs I once knew... and I'll be damned if it's not the most amazing music I've ever heard.
I have spent hours on end listening to the thousands of songs in my archives, some of which I've neglected for years, and stared with open ears at the mind-bending insanity that hath possessed them all. The purity of Mozart and Beethoven, rendered mad by the agony of chaos... The enticing people's spirit of the Celts and the Incas, driven to demonic possession by the overturned laws of nature... The madness of Golem and Perkalaba, tortured and enraged to even greater levels of insanity...
Cymbals clash with unholy strength and tyranny, while ghostly voices chant and moan from their watery graves. Tenors wallow in the depths and whine in submission to the grotesque monstrosity of the bassos. Titanic drums pound in fury from savage jungles, while depraved horns shriek in pain and roar in madness from the fire-scorched mountaintops. And then, resounding above all else, is the maniacal oscillations of the inhuman whispers that absorb and possess every sound within the musical insanity...
I wish with all my heart that I could capture this sound in its pristine state, that I could share it with all of you and make your lives complete. Yet I am constrained by the inability to recreate such imperfections in technology. Ironic, isn't it? That such beauty could be created by an imperfection, by an inherent failure – and thus, be irreproducible.
As such, I am rendered powerless to share with you this discovery, this enlightenment, which hath set my musical archives free of their bonds, their shackles, which once bound them to the constraints of mortal tunes. It is all I can do to give you the wish, the hope, that you too may one day listen to the demonic rhythms to which I am now enslaved.
Staring at: the ceiling
Listening to: musical insanity
Thinking about: nothing else
I have spent hours on end listening to the thousands of songs in my archives, some of which I've neglected for years, and stared with open ears at the mind-bending insanity that hath possessed them all. The purity of Mozart and Beethoven, rendered mad by the agony of chaos... The enticing people's spirit of the Celts and the Incas, driven to demonic possession by the overturned laws of nature... The madness of Golem and Perkalaba, tortured and enraged to even greater levels of insanity...
Cymbals clash with unholy strength and tyranny, while ghostly voices chant and moan from their watery graves. Tenors wallow in the depths and whine in submission to the grotesque monstrosity of the bassos. Titanic drums pound in fury from savage jungles, while depraved horns shriek in pain and roar in madness from the fire-scorched mountaintops. And then, resounding above all else, is the maniacal oscillations of the inhuman whispers that absorb and possess every sound within the musical insanity...
I wish with all my heart that I could capture this sound in its pristine state, that I could share it with all of you and make your lives complete. Yet I am constrained by the inability to recreate such imperfections in technology. Ironic, isn't it? That such beauty could be created by an imperfection, by an inherent failure – and thus, be irreproducible.
As such, I am rendered powerless to share with you this discovery, this enlightenment, which hath set my musical archives free of their bonds, their shackles, which once bound them to the constraints of mortal tunes. It is all I can do to give you the wish, the hope, that you too may one day listen to the demonic rhythms to which I am now enslaved.
Staring at: the ceiling
Listening to: musical insanity
Thinking about: nothing else
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