Friends and Foes

I don’t believe in coincidence. Not when every fiber of my instinct tells me there’s a manipulation going on. You can dug in all the schemes, out of sight, as deep as you can, well trained instincts can never be fooled.

And yet, it is amusing how some poorly staged pretence continue to be displayed by those claiming to be your friends. For some reason, it seems as if they believe that they can always outsmart all manners of instincts that an untamed soul has for smelling sugar-coated shit. 

I can’t wait for the joy of inducting such self-assured meat into the joys and tales of terror. The only place where all lies, masks and charades are stripped down to bare bones, pain and blood.

WTF

I think it is clear that I don’t fucking understand anymore what people are saying when they say Black metal, now, 12 or 13 fucking years into the gloriously violent 21st century. It’s probably an age problem, not!

Strangely enough, twenty something odd years ago, the same kind of “WTF??” pops up whenever one is forced to understand what the hell everybody was talking about when they say ‘Death  Metal’. Because the name used to mean a handful of incredibly talented bands that, despite playing the same type of music, just don’t fucking sound so similar to each other, you could easily forget their monikers and think they’re all one and the same fucking band?!

Well, at least, back then, carbon copy sounds notwithstanding here and there, everyone was playing heavy, sick and aggressive as hell. I guess that’s much better than being all confused, half-assed, aimless, and all other manners of crap, while also sporting morbid, sinister artworks or concepts?  

How the fuck does that work, anyway? Playing under a certain set of established imagery, and yet sounding like something that should be categorically different? Maybe that’s progress, yes? What the fuck do I know? 

Trophies

The full extent of misanthropy and impurity and how it is channeled into each and every part of a living thing’s neurons, can perhaps be best captured, and thus appreciated, through taxidermy. 

There’s just nothing quite like the sight of a sinister, well preserved, trophy.

A little something to liven up the living room...