Archive for May, 2015
(I’m lucky to know a young man by the name of Aidan O’Reilly. He’s an incredibly talented spoken word artist. This is his work)
I’m calmly sitting on this willow tree where i can see things clearly
But I’ll be banging my head against walls till somebody hears me
Up above the clouds
Looking down at the crowds that surround you
I’d pray this message got through but i never got to learn how to
So let’s all pray for change just to see our own reflections
Admire your looks in blood stained mirrors
Then look around at this ghost town that has drowned you
Run from the sound of the bodies hitting the ground
And wonder why they all fell through
Ignore the cracks and
Drive over broken backs of dead bodies to get to your America
They built the streets that they bleed in
It matches the seats in your cars
It matches the ink on your receipts
Their souls are lost in the stars
While you proudly give your cash
To corrupt corporations that run this nation
And hire children overseas but to hell with immigration
And i don’t know what you were expecting
But the devil is a white man in a business suit
Can you see us?
The kids above the clouds looking down
Dying for your dinner
Questioning who the hell was appointed
Why are we okay with this?
We feed a machine that eats us daily
Speaking in dollars signs
Translated by consumption
Pumping in prescriptions to their children
Robbing them of their chemistry
Silencing their destiny
Forcing young minds to make televisions sets
You’ll find them entangled in suicide nets
Forgetting that they’re living behind Star-spangled bars
But we’ll just keep watching
Up here in the stars
So we just look down from our willow tree
Wondering why we’re killing each other
Over land and people created equally
And our tears rain down
To water your plants
While you fill our lungs with smoke from your plants
Sending sin to the wise
Setting fire to willow oak skies
You are damning your deities
Sacrificing your sun
For oil driven dreams
Can you see us
Up above the clouds
Sitting calmly on our willow tree
Wishing you could see that our leaves are leaving me
But let’s just sit down
And wait for around
To celebrate our American apocalypse
Ignoring the facts
While embracing our grave
So let’s just relax
And shout into the unremitting darkness
Home of the Brave!
Zyklon-V from AntiKosmos is the mammal pictured above. She is wearing animal blood and wooden shoes. Myself and a team of botanists from NASA interviewed her moments before the heat death of the universe. Here’s what happened…
Me: AntiKosmos?!?! What…do you just want to see the Kosmos banned? Then what, only criminals and the government will have access to the Kosmos? You know who banned the Kosmos? Hitler! You know who thought it would be a bad idea to ban the Kosmos? Gandhi!
V: I’ve always found “Turkish Delight” to be a really presumptuous name for a candy (or, I should say, so-called candy). I mean, what’s delightful about popping a sweet into your mouth only to discover that some nasty, fez-wearing miscreant bent on revenge against the decadent West has swapped it out for one of those decorative rose-scented soaps your grandmother used to keep in the guest bathroom but yelled at you if you actually tried to use to wash your hands? “Turkish Disappointing Surprise You’ll Be Tasting With Every Burp For The Next Presidential Administration,” more like.
M: It’s your birthday. Someone gives you a calfskin wallet. How do you react?
V: I once listened to “Yakity Sax” for 36 straight hours on a loop while totally naked in a sensory deprivation tank, with no breaks for food or toilet. When I emerged, everything was exactly the same as it had been when I went in, except there was a gentle trickle of cerebro-spinal fluid from my ear that continued for a week, and I subsequently lost the ability to taste mallocreme. I think this is as relevant a commentary on the state of black metal as anything I have read in a glossy music criticism publication.
Q: If Arby’s began selling a sandwich covered in the sweat of Glenn Danzig, why do you think we faked the moon landing?
V: When I was a kid in primary school, I fell off my bike and scraped my knee so bad the kneecap was visible. My mother wanted to use a toothbrush to get the pebbles out of the wound, but my father said that was torture and used a washcloth. After that, I charged my classmates money to pull the bandage back and gaze upon the wound, like the contents of the briefcase in Pulp Fiction. I got addicted to the fame, and after the wound healed, I would eat anything brought to me for money – I ate bugs, pre-chewed gum, once all I had to do was put a found mouth guard in my mouth for thirty seconds. I guess what I’m saying is that child prostitution is educational but ultimately dehumanizing, and AntiKosmos does not use fake blood in our performances, so please stop asking.
H: Have you ever walked up to someone wearing those weird plastic “Bubba” novelty teeth that are pointing out in all weird directions started pointing and laughing hysterically then realized the person is not actually wearing novelty teeth and really looks that way?
V: For years, I avoided eating bananas because I read that an enzyme your skin secretes after banana consumption makes you more susceptible to mosquito bites. Then I realized I live in a high rise apartment complex in the middle of a city, and I haven’t seen a mosquito in almost a decade. So I bought a bunch of bananas, and when I reached for the first one, as if to mock the celebration of my return to banana-dom, I was immediately viciously attacked by a tarantula that had hidden itself amongst the bunches in a do-or-die immigration attempt from Honduras. Needless to say, I don’t watch televised figure skating anymore.
Ed: You get into a taxicab. The man sitting in the seat next to you has a necklace made out of the ears of deceased members of the Kennedy family. You ask the driver to go north, he immediately proceeds south. He has a picture of a Benito Mussolini branded into his forehead and looks slightly like Florence Henderson on the early episodes of The Brady Bunch. Over the radio, you faintly hear the whimpering of a small dog. What do you do next?
(warning the following answer contains strange Dutch stuffed animals talking to one another If you are allergic to stuffed animals or Dutch people or your workplace has a policy in which watching talking owls can cost you your job, do not click the link)
Click here if you dare
K: In John Cassavetes’ 1976 masterpiece, The Killing of a Chinese Bookie, the lead character, Cosmo Vitelli, skillfully played by Ben Gazzara, is sent on a mission for the local mob boss to whack a bookie that is cutting into his business. At some point during the film, a nuclear bomb is detonated in the city of Calgary. Years later, three-headed Canadian beasts emerge from below the surface of the earth and consume all of the margarine available on the United States mainland. Have you ever committed a blunder and later regretted it?
V: People make a lot out of famous last words. I think some people reveal themselves to be utter deathbed try-hards (not naming names here, but I’m definitely looking at you, Oscar Wilde). For my money, the greatest last words ever uttered were those of Thomas Grasso, who was executed in 1995 for strangling an elderly woman to death with her own Christmas lights over what amounted to $137. His words stay with me to this day, and now I’m passing them on to you so their wisdom will echo through the ages. He said, “I did not get my Spaghetti-Os, I got spaghetti. I want the press to know this.”
KL: You’ve got a little boy. He shows you his butterfly collection plus the killing jar. What do you do?
V: Did you know that there’s a sort of tunnel-like spot in the architecture at the Canadian Embassy in Washington where you can scream as loud as you want, but nobody outside the tunnel can hear you at all? I’m starting to feel that way about this interview.
5: You’re watching television. Suddenly you realize there’s a wasp crawling on your arm.
V: I get a lot of emails from Smithsonian magazine. They’re that sort of “we want you back” emails that you get when you let your subscription lapse. They’re all intended for an ex-boyfriend I dated 6 years ago. I never mark them as spam or take myself off the mailing list, because I enjoy reading the mini articles they use to try to tantalize you into re-subscribing. There’s probably some ironic commentary there about the detritus of old relationships haunting you long after they end, but right now I’m much more concerned with when the 100,000 Dollar Bar changed its name to 100 Grand, and what made them think they could be so colloquial all of a sudden.
U: You’re in a desert walking along in the sand when all of a sudden you look down, and you see a tortoise, it’s crawling toward you. You reach down, you flip the tortoise over on its back. The tortoise lays on its back, its belly baking in the hot sun, beating its legs trying to turn itself over, but it can’t, not without your help. But you’re not helping. Why is that?
V: As a small act of protest against the patriarchal hegemony asserted by this question, I’m going to ask your readers to join me in a silent, ten-minute contemplation of the McRib sandwich (not available in all markets; check your local franchise for details and nutritional information; limit 17 per customer).
K: One more question: You’re watching a stage play – a banquet is in progress. The guests are enjoying an appetizer of raw oysters. The entree consists of boiled dog stuffed with rice. The raw oysters are less acceptable to you than a dish of boiled dog.
V: Great question. I get this one a lot, and it never fails to really trip me up and make me think. The thing we all have to come to terms with, I think, has less to do with whether human life is imbued with inherent value by nature or some sort of creator being (I think we waste a lot of time contemplating this – time that could almost certainly be better spent ingesting frozen custard), and more to do with whether there really is an “airport rate” that hired cars in Albuquerque are required to charge for rush-hour travel through downtown, or whether that cab driver was ripping me off. Look out for AntiKosmos’ debut long-playing record album “Lachryma Mortis,” available at finer stolen car chop-shops later this year.
Heavy metal artists and fans alike consider death frontman Chuck Schuldiner as the most significant force in the genre that came to be known as “Death Metal”. From the sheer brutality of “Scream Bloody Gore” to the technical wizardry of “Symbolic”, Schuldiner constantly took metal in directions it had never been before. However, what few headbangers realize is that Schuldiner is a legend of equal or even greater status in the Southern hip-hop scene.
Rapper Juicy J, seen wearing a 1991 era Spiritual Healing tour shirt in the video for his song “That What A Pimp Does”, recently recalled how Death’s music was a major influence on his decision to begin his musical career with several of his friends.
“Paul (DJ Paul), Richard (Lord Infamous) and I were sitting around discussing the merits of Keynesian economics. Richard was really into the whole Austrian, invisible hand scene at the time and was going on and on about methodological individualism. Now, Paul and myself were strictly Frankfurt School guys and had been reading heavy amounts of Marcuse and Horkheimer at the time, so we weren’t hearing it. As you an probably imagine, things were starting to get heated.”
“Anyway, we had on Death ‘Leprosy’ in the background and the song ‘Pull The Plug’ came on. The whole conversation stopped and we were mesmerized. A week later, we started Three 6 Mafia.”
According to Paste magazine editor Atticus Flinch, Three 6 Mafia is hardly the only rap group that was inspired by Death. “It’s hard to not hear a little bit of Schuldiner’s work on nearly every record that’s come out of the so-called “Dirty South” over the past twenty some odd years. Be it the 808 kick drums, the auto-tune vocals, the gritty, nihilistic lyrics about the everyday struggles associated with urban life or the frantically-paced, melodic guitar solos. Pick up anything from Waka Flaka Flame to Souljah Boy and you’ll see Schuldiner’s fingerprints all over it.”
The tribute record was put together by Chicago based rapper Chief Keef, but will feature some of the top names in hip hop as guest artists including the man some have taken to calling “Evil Chuck Jr.”, producing icon Shawty Redd. Shawty, whose name in real life is Preternatural Transmogrifyer, was 10 years old when “Individual Thought Patterns” first came out.
“I remember asking my parents over and over again to take me to the store to buy that album. At the time, I was deeply interested in gardening. I used to play ‘Cosmic Sea’ off of ‘Human’ to my begonias at night to help them grow. I remember running into my bedroom when we got back from Sam Goody and hearing that crazy opening from ‘Overactive Imagination’ and knowing, at that moment, the true meaning of love.”
“Trappin’ Da Corner” is due to drop on June 12th. If you see it on the floor, please pick it up and place it back on the shelf or, better, find a customer service person to help you find the correct place to put it.
The State Department has refused to officially comment on a recent report that Islamofascist group Sodom was not issued visas in order to perform at this weekend’s Maryland Deathfest. However, senior sources with in the Office of Homeland Security have confirmed, off-the-record, that a visit to war-torn Baltimore by the band could lead to an outbreak of evil on a scale unrivaled in this nations history.
One unnamed official pointed out that the band has embraced a form of justice more menacing then even the Sharia Law practiced by ISIS. “We’ve seen reports that these doers of evil are so obsessed by cruelty that they have advocated a legal system based solely upon “The Saw”. The song “The Saw is The Law” is a manifesto encouraging the abandonment of democracy and the rule of law. Instead, these destroyers of civilization want to rule through the use of a violent tool INVENTED BY EGYPTIANS!”
“The saw is a simple tool that can be assembled by one terrorist alone in his basement. You could make one for less than the cost of a cup of coffee. However, when used correctly, a group of terrorist with saws could be responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of unarmed, innocent Americans.”
Another concern voiced by officials connected to Sodom’s banishment from America site their frequent references to weapons of mass destruction in their songs. According to top ranking military intelligence officer, “Sodom consistently encourages their fans to use Agent Orange and Napalm. Granted, they only advocate the use of napalm in the morning, but nonetheless, this Group of Three has displayed wanton disregard for the safety of Americans with their irresponsible lyrics.”
“Can you imagine what would happen if the groups shadowy leader Thomas Angelripper, a man who has talked frequently at his concerts about having a “Nuclear Winter”, was able to sneak a nuclear warhead into his carryon bag? One word….Genocide.”
Nothing is crueler than keeping animals in captivity for human entertainment. Do your part today and help free these poor wolves that have been imprisoned in the throne room for 13 years now.
Panting wolves may look like they are smiling. But they are not!
Perhaps mankind’s most arrogant mistake is anthropomorphizing non-human entities. A wolf doesn’t express emotions with its facial muscles the way humans do. Just because its panting expression shapes its mouth in a way that resembles a human smile does not mean that a panting wolf is actually happy. So even when a wolf is suffering from indigestion due to eating too many disobedient serfs for the king’s entertainment, foreign dignitaries often return to their kingdoms thinking that the wolves were enjoying themselves. This is often very far from the truth.
A captive wolf is an abducted wolf.
Would you let a stranger walk into your home, and take your child away from you to be kept captive as a slave in a circus troupe? No? Then why should wolves be treated as such? Wolves are highly intelligent social creatures that live in tight-knit packs. Visitors to the throne room often fail to see that the wolves there had to be yanked from their natural environments, snatched away from their family, held in cages, and roughly transported by plane, ship, or truck for hours on end.
Most wolves die during capture.
Around 60% of wolves die during capture, mostly from fatal wounds arising from hurled rocks, fatal indigestion due to overeating of bait, and malfunctioned Safari Balls. The capturing process is very traumatizing to these poor creatures. Imagine sleeping, only to have strangers suddenly intrude on your slumber to make you their property! Sadly, due to stress, panic and trauma, some wolves even die in the aftermath of the capture.
Wolves are magnificent predators. Their limber bodies are built for chasing quick-footed prey in the wild, such as hares. Imagine them being confined in small cages that are being loaded by the hundreds into cargo planes, ships, and trucks that travel for more than twelve hours on an average shipping day. As a result, the poor wolves get cramps and skin abrasions, which disrupt their appetite and make them more prone to skin infections.
Captivity is sensory deprivation.
Wolves in the wild are active predators that are highly dependent on sounds, sights, smells, and various other types of sensory input to hunt for food effectively. Place them in the captive environment—typically four walls in an enclosure devoid of their usual visual or auditory stimuli—and their senses grow dull overtime due to a lack of stimulation. There’s hardly anything for wolves to do in the throne room other than to prowl around aimlessly, gnaw on some leftover serf bones, poop on the red carpet, and play catch with foreign dignitaries. The worst part is that they don’t even hunt anymore; they simply await low quality, unwilling human food to appear before them.
No wild animal should be living in manmade environments. Wolves are natural creatures that should be living in a natural setting. The physical complexity of a forest, and the four seasons can never be duplicated in captivity. Feeding patterns and mating behaviours are even drastically altered during captivity, thus reducing wolves in the throne room to confused shadows of their former selves.
Confining wolves in the throne room is no different from placing a human in solitary confinement. Caged animals and humans develop similar behavioral patterns – They pace back and forth restlessly, hallucinate at the slightest sensory stimulation, and sleep much longer than usual. These are signs of neurosis induced by claustrophobia, and frustration at being unable to behave naturally or act freely. Eventually, appetite loss and self-harm may even occur as a suicide attempt.
Now that you know the plight of these wolves, leave a comment below to support our cause to free these furry, non-human persons. Once 2,500 signatures have been collected, an Internet article will be written again in an attempt to bring about monumental change in real life. Let us guilt-trip the kingdom into giving up its sadistic entertainment!
Washington, D.C– Pentagon has released shocking new information surrounding Secretary of Defense, Chuck Hagel’s abrupt and unexpected resignation. Sources state that Hagel’s resignation was due, in part, to lack of support in his classified mission to negotiate alliances with various Norse metal icons in the fight against the expanding threat of Middle Eastern terrorist groups.
At one official event, a defiant, rather Scotch-addled Hagel declared, “The only way to defeat such heinous acts of violence steeped so deeply in an extreme ideology is with counter-terror of epic proportion! The power of the quintessential warriors, whose ancient lineage of voracious brutality has been the stuff of legends! No more time can be wasted, no more innocents lost; we need to strike while the iron is hot! We absolutely MUST unleash the wrath of the Northern Darkness!”
Quoting his favorite drummer Frost (Satyricon/1349), Hagel further punctuated his position exclaiming he was, “talking about Darkness with a capital D, if you understand what I mean!” Unfortunately, no one really understood what he meant. Several of the President’s handlers believed it was meant as a racial slur towards the President and cut off Hagel’s bar tab; thus heightening tensions within the administration even further.
Hagel’s work was met with resistance from both sides. On the Norwegian front, meetings with the enigmatic Gaahl (Gorgoroth/Godseed/Wardruna) resulted in a stalemate of awkward silence and numerous unsettling stare-downs on the part of Gaahl, when Hagel simply could not ‘ask the right questions’.
Back stateside, “Operation FROSTbite” was never able to even get off the ground due to what Hagel claimed to be nefarious actions on behalf of Homeland Security in the form of repeated denial of work visas. According to Hagel, “Homeland Security’s energy would be better spent targeting home-grown terrorists such as Nickelback fans. Unlike America, Frost is a fine-tuned machine and his blast beats should be the least of this country’s concern.”
Hagel was contacted by representatives of Immortal to aid in the mission, however Hagel felt that Abbath’s proliferation of internet ‘memes’ and numerous unsavory associations with famed internet personality Grumpy Cat would compromise the integrity of the operation.
Hagel’s final, cryptic statement, “If you can’t beat’em, burn churches with ’em. I have much grimmer pastures to pursue” led many experts to believe there was more to the story than the government had previously indicated.
Before the arrival of his replacement Ashton Carter, Hagel cleared out his office, packed up his corpse paint and headed to Europe for Bloodstock and the 2015 European festival season. He was spotted as recently as last Wednesday wandering the streets of Oslo in the middle of night muttering Bathory lyrics under his breath and baying at the moon.
(By Kimmy Deranged, an enlightened Black Metal yogi who lives in the Rockies, drinks too much rubbing alcohol and is convinced she can talk to tortoises)