RIP Christopher Hitchens/The Rebellion Against Mental Slavery

1949-2011

Though he was born in Portsmouth, England, Christopher Hitchens came to America and became one its most patriotic citizens. Averse to the idea that his homeland still maintained a royal ruler who also headed the Church of England, Hitchens saw the brilliance of our Constitution, based on secular humanism and not antiquated ideas of superstition. Few people could speak so eloquently, so incisively, and so correctly about such an overriding and broad aspect of civilization: religion. Fearlessly he opposed the evils of religion, striking down with words those who promote the vile nonsense still espoused by theists worldwide. Not only was he a great American, but a great human being, a universal hero who still stands as an object of malevolence for the lost people still clinging to the fleeting concept of religion. Perhaps one day, a good majority of humanity will look upon the man with respect for his bold statements and attempts to combat the most destructive and backwards element of our various societies. His legacy shall not and should not ever be forgotten.



Fight theocratic Fascism in all its forms. Fight the rebellion of mental slavery.



There seems to be many people (many that I know) who don't claim any particular faith, but fall back on Pascal's Wager. They are intelligent enough to realize that religion is nonsense, but it's been bred in their blood for so many generations to be fearful of the consequences of not following a belief. And so often it's put into the heads of children to fear the master they also need to love. It's became an inescapable atavism that people believe in gOD "just in case". Hitchens drew the line (and boldly) where belief in the supernatural and mental freedom divide. One can't be partially faithful to one and to the other as well. Too many nonbelievers cannot surmount the obstruction religion has placed in all our lives, so they defer to it still while claiming nonbelief, or worse, agnosticism. I have heard with my own ears people say "I want all my bases covered" while practicing no tenets of a given religion. To me, this is a sign of cowardice, an unwillingness to stand up for what you truly believe in for fear of a possible deity's reprisal.

Of course we can never really know the absolute truth of the divine, but we can observe the reality of religion's barbarism, wish-thinking, and atavism and how it's plagued our world for so long. Of course many of us are in the process of figuring out religion's validity (or lack thereof) and they would certainly be "agnostic" in that sense. My message is for those who claim to know by not claiming to know, as though that solves the problem. We need people who are willing to use the extraordinary ability of the evolved human consciousness to fight that which attempts to keep it obscured and regressed by divine mandate. We don't need more people who straddle the fence, who pretend that there is no danger to religion, that even though they don't believe it they still treat it with respect and reverence; who claim that it's only institutionalized, organized religion that poses a threat, that religion is pure and good and then corrupted by humans. We need those who know and who aren't afraid to talk of religion being innately immoral and dangerous to the advancement of humanity. The sources of religion are all denigrating to us. When a majority of humanity could not discern the fictitious from the real (just scared mammals ourselves) religion was the element of control. As long as people were kept fearful of their death (and whether or not they would suffer or thrive for ALL ETERNITY), they accepted their own slavery, and still do today, though now religion comes with a much softer, more genial face to its lies. We don't need more cherry-picking, soft religions types who claim to only follow the "good" parts of their religion, creating an even more delusional affront. The leash and chain must be cut for those who realize that religion is baseless. All it takes is the courage to do it for one's self, to stand defiant against thousands of years of dishonesty, mind control, terrorism, bigotry, and mass murder. Shame those who judge others based on an invisible deity who also claim that said deity's "mind cannot be known", yet they instantly presume to speak for it and know its desires.

I always hear statements along the lines of "Well, people need something to believe in, something to comfort them". But they don't. Existence doesn't owe you a need for belief or hope that there is more than life itself. The world doesn't owe you any sense of comfort or that there are divine rules and that a deity will make all things right in an unfair world. So many have simply checked out of life on earth for the delusional prospect of a perfect, unchanging and never-ending afterlife (if they've followed the rules).

I should note that, by and large, I don't hate religious people, for that is your choice. There are those people who do things because of their belief in gOD that make them abominations of human beings as even religious people could agree with. But I don't hate the majority of them, I just want them to think about what they hold true in their head, and to see the insanity of it all. We only have each other. For too long has superstition and unachievable moral absolutism based on outright lies have stifled and strangled the advancement of all humanity towards a better world. We need more people like Hitchens who are courageous enough to fight back against the fear-mongering tide of religion as it tries to crash down and suppress us in the very core of our being. Be well, my friends, and remember, not even the divine can control your mind; use it for the reason it evolved, to ponder our condition. Be well, and choose well.

Just break up already!

I've noticed at Socially Retarded's shows, when the crowd is actually into it, people never act so dangerously stupid and hostile as when they play, but there's never even been a hint of pointed violence. It was one of the few times that you could pretty much get as crazy as possible without the worry of beef. Their final show on 8/15 proved just that as the weirdos and bastards came out for one last time to rage and tear apart someone's residence.

Lindsey, Peach and I arrived first to find one person at Waterworks cleaning up the mess leftover from a show days before. Beer cans were fucking everywhere. He told us Raw Nerve played that show and I can only hope that beer was thrown at them. At any rate, we helped him clean up the place then came in possibly my favorite show-going person in Chicago, Erik the Jolly. I call him that because that's what he is, the jolliest dude I might have ever met, a punk rock Santa Claus with Predator braids. Shortly thereafter, Graham from SFN arrived and the few of us broke into the beer and whiskey. I then made the mistake of eating an entire personal pizza slathered with hot giardeneira. My stomach basically imploded and, combined with the booze, rendered me out of commission for some time. I think I listened to Other Women's entire set whilst shitting. They were real good from what I could tell. Their singer was the dude from Regrets, a solid band without a doubt. He didn't get as crazy as usual, i.e. going to the very back of the crowd and screaming lyrics into the faces of those trying to stay out of it. Definitely not bad for a first show.

Men as Witches played next I believe. They were alright, but the heat combined with the revolting stomach churning kept me in the back, drinking Jim and stealing Peach's beer. It got kind of blurry from that point, as I poured more and more liquor down my gullet and rained sweat through my pores. I can't quite recall if Vile Intent or Sea of Shit played next but they both had tight sets. Last time I saw Sea of Shit, the sound was awful and I just wasn't into it as I usually was. They killed it this time. I know little of Vile Intent but they were solid, despite Erik running into me full speed and smashing the back of my head against the front of the guy's behind me. Almost instantaneously he moved beside me and smiled and laughed. NBD.

Before Retarded played for the last time, I'd say I was about 7/10 drunk. I wasn't stumbling or slurring (that badly) just yet. As they were tuning up, someone yelled out "Just break up already!" which got uproarious laughter. I must say, Mitch the singer pretty much always looks pissed off when they're about to play and this was no exception. As soon as the first note started, sweaty bodies began mauling everything in their path, unless they were met by a greater force (myself or Erik) and sent flying elsewhere. I was grabbing everybody and forcing them to run with me into anyone standing around. Graham, with his shirt soaked all the way through, was a complete maniac, jumping and rolling at a constant. At one point, he grabbed me and after we smashed some fools, he fell, but as I tried to pick him up, I lost my momentum and decided to simply somersault over him. We both got back up and went back to town. Nick from Bongripper was doing his patented hammer-fist during the sludgy breakdown and managed to land one right on my head. Unphased I went crashing back into the crowd. Omar's cymbal was knocked down at one point and was recovered by Belo, as none of the band members seemingly gave a fuck. Mitch especially was just hostile and apparently choked this guy (who's name I don't know but I've seen at every Retarded show in the city; I believe he was "seizure-mosh guy") with both hands and pushed him out of the pit. I saw none of it as I was in my own world of chaos and mindless mutant behavior as I went all out for my favorite and best goddamn band in Chicago. Nearing the end, I found myself next to this guy Spencer. I immediately determined that he was of small enough stature that I could lift him and make a run for the other side. Went off without a hitch and he landed safely down. Figuring I was already in the lifting mood, I picked up Jimmy as he shredded his guitar on the last song and set him down safely as well. As the music broke down and devolved into hellish, abrasive noise (what a sweet, sweet sound), Mitch proceeded to kick over the drums and really, anything in sight. Belo then threw the ride cymbal into the crowd. Others followed suitably and began throwing whatever they could wherever they could. In a great final moment for me, Erik, standing in front of me, grabbed the snare drum and threw it over his right shoulder, missing my face by about an inch. Not that is sobered me up, but it gave me a short moment of clarity as I realized my face nearly got broken. He apologized profusely for doing so, but I wouldn't hear it. That's the risk you take.

And so ended a band that was probably better than anything you're currently listening to. The music and the shows were absolutely destructive, scary, maddening and hateful, but to me, were ultimately fun. The only other shows I'd have close to as much fun are Weekend Nachos, but Retarded simultaneously brought out the best and worst of people as far as the live music experience went, and now I am at somewhat of a loss. They just did it right without really trying, and in fact, showing total apathy to the crowd at times, while still being the coolest of dudes. Fuck, I'm going to miss you crazy, crazy bastards. Best wishes and all that bullshit.

.....fuck Canada.

I finally decided to watch some footage of the riots recently in Vancouver, and I could not help but think of my rant so many months back about why I hate sports culture, and moronic, selfish Canadian sports fans just backed up my assertion:

It was not only that I was livid because of these people's abject stupidity and complete disregard for 10,000 years of human civilization and development, it was something more. I felt a certain hatred I haven't felt in a long time. I've been keeping up with the riots in Egypt, Libya, Syria, and Greece as of late, and the plight of those people is something I can understand, and with which I can sympathize, as corrupt governments continually sell out the interests of their people to let them squander in perpetual misery. But if you live in Vancouver, in one of the most comfortable nations on Earth, and a hockey team YOU DON'T PLAY FOR loses a few games and your only option is to start destroying your own city in addition to other people's cars and buildings, you are a worthless savage and your posturing arrogance that you're somehow glorious in your revelry of mindless and stupefying destruction is exactly what this world doesn't need any more of. It's certainly not the culture of sports that is to blame; these people are clearly idiots anyway, but the manner in which sports are given such a high priority in the modern North American world doesn't help the situation. It's 2011 and you're burning your own city over a fucking game? You're an idiotic lowlife, and it's people like you that make me completely in favor of abortion, euthanasia and eugenics.

There is some justice however:

And of course, praise to this level-headed (though clearly still drunk) gentleman talking some sense into these degenerates, and whoever stepped in to finish his inaccurate punch. Canada should give this man a medal, at the very least.


Fuck you, sports fans. Never heard of anyone rioting over a pro-wrestling match. Kind of funny that a fake sport designed for kids has more mature fans.

the heretic, part 2

(This was written in response to some criticism I received over my heretical belief that man-made climate change is a hoax. Of course I was attacked personally and asked sardonically if I also believed the Earth was flat because I question global warming's actuality. The original comments to me appeared as stereotypical liberal dogma with consensus reality being passed off as fact. I have yet to receive a response, so I feel like posting this here to bolster my previous rant; I apologize for any repetition.)

"Yes, there has been a plethora of global warming research in recent years, but once you see it for the political morass that it has become, you'll know you're not seeing the full story. Politicians and mass media have employed scare tactics and manipulated people's opinions to make the theory of man-made climate change dogmatic law. The origins of this can be seen during Margaret Thatcher's administration when the miners of England went on strikes nationwide. Her method of settling that issue was to demonize these industries as great polluters and the main cause of global warming, paying off scientists to prove just that. She then, in turn, promoted nuclear power to further combat the coal miners. This was of course after the short-lived scare over global cooling in 70's, when many scientists agreed that the Earth was facing an imminent crisis of another ice age due to human activities. There certainly hasn't been another ice age. But then the consensus changed because those in power forced it to be so. It was a political ploy then, and it is now.

I recommend to you this documentary: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpWa7VW-OME&feature=related

Note that they're all accredited and respected scientist explaining why the current notion of climate change is a scam. There's no political pandering or agendas, just science. There's certainly no vindictive, scare-mongering liberal politician trying to tell you how to live. You may ask: "Well if they're so respected why isn't their opinion the general consensus?" Easy: there's no money to be made in the idea that the Earth is doing just fine. However, if people are convinced that we are facing a major catastrophe due to our actions that can be solved simply by purchasing the right things, then you've struck gold. People like Al Gore are making millions now that people are buying into campaigns with little to no credibility. The proponents of man-made climate change have used shaky science at best to persuade people to think this way, and they just eat it right up...like always.

So if the planet's alright, we would then have to face a very real crisis: that humanity can't even co-exist with itself, that people still kill each other over the most minute of reasons and we are going to save the Earth that's in no trouble in the first place? Preposterous. It's so much easier to think that we're going to save the world with hybrid cars and organic food than to face the reality of our own demise. It's a projection of our own fears of mortality, that we just love to attack. By the way, hybrid cars are filled with well over a hundred toxic batteries and far more fuel and resources are used in their construction and transportation than a normal car could burn up in its lifetime.

Now don't get me wrong, I think finding alternative energy sources is a good idea; we shouldn't be so wasteful and polluting of the Earth's natural beauty, but to cause panic amongst people by lying to them to get them to buy into your fallacious ideas? That's just shameful. (I don't mean you personally, "you" in the general sense.)

To answer your questions, no and no. I believe in science, reason and logic, not blind faith, hypocrisy and ignorance. Though I've noticed a penchant amongst liberals to instantly label those who disagree with their lofty principles as crazy, stupid, hateful, Fascistic, etc. And I am no conservative, They're just as bad, just as dogmatic, just as detached from reality.

Environmentalism has become fanatical, just like religions. Their word is law and all those who even question their supposed truths are heretics. Call me what you will, I will always question the decrees that come down from the government and mass media."

the heretic

Environmentalism: another seemingly beneficial idea until it was co-opted by the forces of marketing/advertising and liberalism. We’ve been fed lie upon lie that the Earth is headed for catastrophe because of our doing (sublimated guilt) and that anyone who disagrees is a polluting fascist. I know liberals like to think themselves on such a higher ground, but I can see that’s simply not the case when they constantly resort to reactionary labeling of disagreeing individuals in an effort to marginalize their opposition according to egalitarian dogma.

“The planet’s fine, the people are fucked.”

So much of this environmental hype stems from our unwillingness to acknowledge the fear that humanity is going to be extinct one day. Our fear then gets so easily digressed into fear for the planet’s health. We’re a petulant child, projecting our insecure paranoia to our parent world, seemingly unaware of how inconsequential we really are to it, even less so to the universe as a whole.

“Going green” has become a multi-billion dollar industry, in government and the private sector as well. Why do you think it’s become so prevalent? Because it’s true? Or because a small group of people somewhere are making literal tons of money? It’s another nice distraction for weak-minded people to think that they too can do something meaningful for the world by supposedly employing conservation. Another dead end pursuit of the American herd. The toxic batteries in your hybrid car won’t be decomposing anytime soon.

Don’t get me wrong, I think clean energy policies and alternative fuel sources are great ideas, but fuck you for trying to manipulate my opinion and that of my fellow Americans by feeding enormous lies and guilt trips. Fuck Al Gore and his rich ass telling you how to live your life. Fuck these governments that are allowing the third world to languish in continual, perpetuated misery because they’re restricted in their development to the modern world.

We can’t even save one another from basic horrors and we’re gonna save the planet that’s doing just fine in the first place? Get real.

in every direction

I haven't put anything down to verse in so long, it seems ages. It's evident that I was once possessed a certain poetic zeal that seems to have subsided, or even dissipated. I can be almost sure that it's still there, dormant perhaps. Let's face it, the past couple years have seen such a cathartic release of poems and scribblings, that I might have simply burnt myself out on them. Long have I understood that art in words is not something that can be forced into creation. The poetic intent arises organically, a symbiotic creature in a sense. But where has it been? I used to think in poetry, arranging (or attempting to) my thoughts in verse, but the music of such an expression seems to have quieted in recent months. For nearly 10 years, poems were such an integral part of my continual writing process. Sure I look back in contempt or indifference for a lot of my work, but some I can still read and am incised by their sharp words and culmination of pain and anxiety into structured thought. Maybe that was the journey, maybe that was only a phase over those years to lead me here, into a less abstract state of mind.

To me, poetry's base was always in the abstract, its origin the chaos of the human mind. At times, though, in the very best of the genre, ideas emerge that are quintessential to a sort of basic understanding of our interaction with the world that surrounds us. It puts into words that which eludes us to say because of the brevity of our elaborate consciousness. It grinds down the overwhelming collection of what's in our mind into points that stab with precision in an effort to refine our thinking. All great art does this. The work that is worthwhile is that which illuminates the processes of our existence into the unending panorama of the natural world at large, which we also express in history, science, mathematics, etc. But how often humans simply associate "science" as "nature", when, in fact, science is only our interpretation of these events in nature, as history is the interpretation and analysis of events of the past that have led up to this point, as mathematics is the interpretation of the patterns and design of what we can perceive as our existence. This is, of course, not to say that there is a designer; nature is its own design, a self-fulfilling system.

There is an unfortunate number, however, of people in this world, many in my own country, that choose to believe that nature and our existence cannot possibly be without an external creator. But how could there be a being without being itself? For if god is truly an entity as most of these people believe, there has to have been an origin for such a thing, an origin that supersedes existence itself. To me, that sounds like a total avoidance of the vast majesty of this universe. Instead of simply being in awe and knowing that we are just another blip in macrocosm of time and space, people invented a buffer of sorts to keep that overwhelming status of being completely inconsequential to the universe at bay. There is an understandable fear of being such a small aspect to a system so large, but with the belief that there is an entity that is even greater that, who looks out for us, who created us in his image, who has a set of rules for us, and, most importantly, has imbued us all with a purpose in our lives, makes the frightening possibility that we really are spurious in the face of the totality of existence.

With such a belief, you trade in that intrinsic fear (however unconscious) for obeisance to what you can only imagine in your still evolving head. We are just another small step in the process of life's evolution, a process so vast we can barely understand it. And when people are faced with things they struggle to understand, they often became defensive, and choose to find a protection of sorts to deal with that which they can't comprehend. So instead of attempting to understand the mystery, they become opposed to it, and will follow that which gives them an easy answer, something that doesn't have to let them flounder in possible existential crises. As stated, there is a certain fear of simply being a primate that can talk, living on a giant sphere with other talking primates, spinning around in a dark corner of the galaxy. But is it not that fear that has driven us to greater things than huddling in caves, terrified of the natural world? If we didn't have that fear to overcome, there would have been no need to band together, to learn to communicate, to solve problems, to create tools and harness fire. That fear is just part of the need to survive, possessed by all creatures in some instinctual form. Somewhere along the line, many tens of thousands of years ago, we developed the ability to become aware of that fear and also the faculties to work our way through our inhibitions, to overcome that which could destroy and maim us, were we still the simple primates we started out as. How these abilities came about I doubt there is a real answer for. The power of our frontal lobe in terms of structured thinking and awareness of ourselves is such a unique marvel for humans. The ignorant would call it a "gift from god", but in actuality, it is probably the result of the right collusion of genetics, environment, and time. I don't think we could ever actually discern how this spark of intelligence began to become prevalent in ancient humans' brains, but is it not enough that we simply have it and can utilize it?

It is because of this development that certain groups of early humans were able to migrate from the heart of Africa to nearly every region in the world. I'm in awe to think of tribes making journeys over countless generations to newer and unseen lands, over thousands and thousands of miles, without maps, without written languages, without domesticated animals, without agriculture. How marvelous to think of the epic scope of transformation amongst these people as they dispersed all over the globe, dropping certain physical traits, the genes becoming more specific to the unique tribes, the formation of sounds into language, unifying people even more so into cohesive units. I think of ancient Scandinavians, descending out of the nomadic steppe tribes of Central Asia, who decided to just keep heading North. The impression is that of a group who were not content to stay put but rather to experience what could possibly out there in lands unknown. They had the courage to keep going, all the way to the Arctic circle, so far from equatorial Africa, so far removed from humanity's origin, and they just kept going. I think of those other Central Asian steppe peoples who would go on to found the beginnings of Chinese civilization, arguably the first (certainly in this writer's opinion) while others closely related took similar corridors east, but stayed in the North to resume the nomadic life. People came together after their ancestors traveled for thousands and thousands of miles in possibly as many years in fertile lands in the Wei Valley, wild and unbroken, and began to work together to build what would become society. I won't go into how incredible early Chinese civilization was, how intelligently and creatively they crafted their society. I think of the ancient Polynesians, not satisfied resting in tropical paradises of Indochina, they went further, built simple yet sturdy boats and traversed thousands of miles of treacherous open ocean, to settle across millions of islands, navigating by the stars alone, guided only by wind. Marvelous isn't it? To think how far we have come, to ponder the endeavors of humanity, is absolutely beautiful. The drive to overcome perceived limitations has brought humanity to this point, and it's wondrous to even consider, all the pain, death, strife, and war included in said history. To just have come so far out of cave-dwelling a couple hundred thousand years ago is mind-blowing. A couple hundred thousand years is nothing to the lifetime of this planet, and to have proliferated that much? Now that's miraculous.

"Wonderful where people come from."
-the Preacher, Deadwood

judgmental prick/beast from the East

In a genre so beset by poseurs and hipsters, it's hard to find new worthwhile metal in this world. I've largely given up on discovering new American metal that's actually worthy of its namesake. But thanks to the Information Age in which we live, I've found at least two acts that are currently profound and interesting music. The first is Tengger Cavalry, which, from what I read, is a one-man band out of China with partial Mongolian ancestry. Long have I been enamored with Mongol history and culture and also with the various peoples that express their musical voice in the form of throat signing. To the average Westerner, I'm sure, throat singing just sounds bizarre and alien, but after immersing myself for so long in this style, the beauty and emotion are latent. Perhaps what stands out most of throat singing is that it sounds inhuman, nothing like what we consider in the West a "beautiful singing voice". I find it closer to black/death metal vocals that have only arisen in the past 25 or 30 years. If we look at the cultures from which these different voices derive, we find some similarities. My theory is that Mongols and Tuvans developed their unique vocals from the seemingly endless years they spent (and still spend) riding the harsh steppes of Siberia and the Gobi, where desolation thrives and human edifices dot not the landscape. There is an overwhelming emptiness here. Life is sparse, wind, earth and sky are everything. It's Mongols who long worshiped the Great Blue Sky and all it encompasses; it was Genghis Khan who wished to unite all of humanity under its banner. For the metal vocals to which I was referring, I'll just stick with Norwegian Black Metal of the late 80's/early 90's. These people found their heritage in the vast forests and frigid mountains of Scandinavia, in the icy fjords and snow that never melts. If we look at their Viking heritage, we find similar people: consummate warriors, great travelers, prone to extreme violence with a mind to conquer, and unarguably tough as nails.

Exhibit A:

Tengger Cavalry's music just takes me away to another world, a place where modern life does not bombard me with constant lies and fake morality. It is a place where survival supersedes all, where life and death's meaning haven't been obscured by boredom-induced neurosis over trivialities. The music is alive with the strife of tribal war cries and the idea that the world is as large as one's horse can take them. I find this fusion not only fascinating, but lasting. I've searched through much Chinese metal, and discovered that most of it is generic and simply emulates the cliches brought about by more mainstream metal. It seems they've simply tried to recreate substandard Western metal, and, for me, does nothing. There's too much uninspired, boring metal as it is. But that's the way it goes nowadays, a broad spectrum to appeal to the masses rather than a deeply introspective and unique take on the genre. For every Burzum, there's a thousand Dimmu Borgirs. What I find most dreadful about most Chinese metal, is that there is no reflection of their culture present in the music. I've gone on about this before, but their history and cultural roots extend much farther than Europeans in terms of civilization, and to me, should be inescapable to the creators. To deny all that seems disingenuous and makes for uninteresting music. Tengger, on the other hand, embraces the rich musical history of his ancestry and has created some absolutely breathtaking and original metal. It just works.

Exhibit B:

As extensive as my love for metal is, death metal was one genre that has really not intersected with my interests until very recently. It's always been there in my periphery, but never really came into the forefront. There always seemed something not all that engaging in it; it appeared to me, in a way, that it was heavy for heavy's sake, without truly creating a profound listening pleasure as did, say, Norwegian Black Metal. Of course, my perceptions of the sub-genre, for the longest time, were bands like Cannibal Corpse and Six Feet Under, who are rather dull. Years ago, I read the anus.com review for Massacra, whose album "The Final Holocaust" they deem as the best album in the style. Say what you will about those at the ol' anus, but when it comes to true and worthy metal, they're above and beyond anyone else on the internet. I recall downloading a couple of Massacra's tracks, not knowing they were from the "Demo '88" version of "The Final Holocaust" and not the album proper from 1990. The definitive versions on the album are far different from the early rough cuts, but both are brilliant in their own way. The "Demo" versions allude to a thrashier origin, more related to the early Slayer idea of mixing NWOBHM and hardcore punk, them speeding up and amplifying the fuck out of it, whereas the official album is undeniably real death metal, a progress fulfilled.

Still, by and large, I'm not as infatuated with DM as much as other metal, but along came Chaotic Aeon out of China, and I felt after listening to it, how I should after most good metal: like my ass has been kicked. DM has been so marginalized since its inception by mainstream "tough guys" who co-opted the riffage to emphasize how bad ass they are, all the while creating garbage music that contributes nothing to the tradition of metal. It's a ploy, a sham, a sad effort those more concerned with creating an image and a style, to convince other (and themselves) that they too can be metalheads, without understanding or respecting the genre itself. But in this time and place: "It's my music, bro, you can't tell me otherwise!" So weak, ineffectual rock band continuously rehash the angular guitar riffs of old metalcore bands like Integrity or Rorschach, all the while their music is actually more akin to pop or it's just a simulacra with the actual intention to just "have fun" and "party", when metal is not about that. At all. Metal has always been for the alienated, the outcast, the ugly, those who can't/don't/won't conform to the sheepish ways of their peers, for those who know that the music the majority loves is just empty and invalid entertainment, meant to keep you sated and satisfied, whereas metal has always been about hungering for more than the scraps you're given by family, religion, society, education, etc. It's not about just accepting people and ideas for who and what they are because that's what this modern liberal society dictates that you do. It's more based on Mongol society in the time of Genghis: merit and what you can bring to the group. If it's honest and intelligent and devoid of ineffectual pandering, then it's accepted. Metal is not pop music; work is not considered important because "Hey, this sounds good", there underlies a deeper meaning to it beneath the abrasiveness and screaming/growling. It's about how a few wolves can decimate and scatter the flock of sheep, not becoming a mindless herd itself.

Exhibit C, just because it's so goddamn good, even better than the original, in this judgmental prick's humble opinion:

Thank you, Mr. Zimmerman

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I’d rob them

And now I know you’re dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don’t you understand
It’s not my problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You’d know what a drag it is
To see you

Pleroma Pie

Driving home through wind sharpened by ice, I turn on 98.7 in the car, as my cd player has been malfunctioning due to the cold, and I hear a short piano piece, obviously written for the harpsichord or clavier, and for a couple of minutes, I'm absolutely mesmerized by the combination of melody, harmony and skill. Like so many times when I listen to that station, I wait patiently for the end of the piece to find out what it is I just heard. Peter Vandergraaf's baritone voice soberly tells me it's this:


Not ashamed to admit that I thought of tears whilst hearing this. I didn't cry, but I was so moved by this piece, a short and masterful work of the early 1600's in this almost unrelatable modern day. But there is only so much I can say, the real beauty is in the hammer hitting the strings.