Showing posts with label HOW IT ENDS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HOW IT ENDS. Show all posts
Sunday, May 27, 2012
HOW IT ENDS - SO SHALL IT BE
1 Empty Nothing Forever
2 End the Suffering
3 Thou Shall Not
4 Imprisoned
5 Time Life Took
6 Dying Eyes
7 Savior
8 Hardest Lesson
9 Painkiller
10 Crippled
BRIEF REVIEW:
I'M SO SICK OF BEING A FUCKING FORTY-EIGHT YEAR OLD BALDING PEDOPHILE VIRGIN WHO'S SLOWLY BEING KILLED BY LONELINESS AND THE DEPRAVITY FROM VIEWING MACABRE CANNIBAL SNUFF PORNOGRAPHY, THAT I'VE POSTED AN AWESOME AD ON CRAIGSLIST SELLING MYSELF OUT TO POTENTIAL OVERS! FUCK YEAH! THIS IS THE GREATEST MASTERPIECE I'VE WRITTEN IN A LIFETIME AND I CANNOT WAIT UNTIL E-MAILS AND PHONE CALLS START POURING IN! YA BABY...
FASHIONABLE
SOCIOPATH SEEKS SEVERAL-NIGHT STAND: MEN4WOMEN
SO WE'RE CLEAR, THE HEADLINE MEANS
I WEAR MY HALF-HEARTED ANTI-SOCIAL SENTIMENT ON MY SLEEVE. WITH REGARDS TO
DRESS I AM IN NO WAY FASHION SAVVY. ALSO, ANTI-SOCIAL BEHAVIOR IS NOT ASOCIAL
BEHAVIOR. IT'S IMPORTANT TO NOTE THIS BECAUSE MANY PEOPLE CONFUSE ANTI-SOCIAL
WITH NOT SOCIALIZING. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS BECOME: A SERIES OF MIND-NUMBING
CLARIFICATIONS. SUCH IS THE LIFE OF THE SHELTERED, SUPERFICIAL, DECEITFUL,
MANIPULATIVE, MORALLY OBTUSE, PATHOLOGICALLY MISERABLE SYCOPHANT. ALSO, I DON'T
MUCH SOCIALIZE.
YES,
YOU'VE GUESSED CORRECTLY. MY FASHIONABLE SOCIOPATHY AND FAIR-WEATHER REBELLION
SPEAK OF A WORLD GONE COLD. WHAT HAPPENED IS THE EARTH EXPERIENCED AN EMOTIONAL
ICE AGE IN THE 1990S. VIETNAM AND DESERT STORM WERE JUST RIPPLES, MAN. WE STILL
HAD THE BAND FILTER, AND WANTED TO TAKE THEIR PICTURE. WE COULD STILL EXPRESS
OUR OPINIONS THEN WITHOUT META AT A LEVEL OF MASTURBATORY PROPORTIONS. KURT
KILLED HIMSELF STARTING A REVOLUTION OF ANGST AND SAD-BRAG MUSIC, AND SELF-PITY
BECAME COOL INSTEAD OF THE PASSIVE ACCEPTANCE TOWARD SADNESS PREACHED BY BLUES.
COLUMBINE CAME AND EFFECTIVELY MURDERED OUR TEEN SPIRIT. THE MATRIX BOTH
ENLIGHTENED AND DESENSITIZED. COME Y2K SANITY WAS EFFECTIVELY DEAD AND ALONG
WITH IT GOOD MANNERS.
NOW
WE HAVE A SHALLOW SOCIETY OF ENDLESS SELF-REFERENCE. WHY NOT GO ALL OUT? FUCK
THE DISINGENUOUS SARCASTIC LIGHTWEIGHTS OF THE INTERNET AGE. OR THE ENDLESS 3RD
RATE CLONES OF BETTIE PAIGE. YOU KNOW WHY SHE STOOD OUT? BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T
FOLLOW SOMEONE'S LEAD. NOW WE HAVE FAUX REVOLUTIONARIES WHO PROBABLY BELIEVE
CHE GUEVARA WORE CHE GUEVARA TEES. "INTEGRITY IS A COMMODITY TRADED AS
CARELESSLY AS POGS," SAID THE FOUNDING FATHERS OF THIS ONCE GREAT NATION.
ALL IT TAKES IS INDIFFERENCE FROM GOOD MEN TO ENSURE THE TRIUMPH OF EVIL. WE
NEED A HEDONIST. WE NEED ONE MAN TO GO TO THE DEPTHS OF AN EXTREME IDEAL; ONE
THAT FAVORS PLEASURE-SEEKING, SHALLOW AFFECTIONS, AND BRIBES THE MASSES WITH
THEIR OWN DESIRE TO BE LED. WE NEED THIS FIGURE TO TYPIFY ALL THAT ISN'T RIGHT.
A FACE FOR THE MASSES TO POINT AT AND SAY, "THAT'S THE BAD GUY." A
MAN WHO STANDS UP TO THIS DECAYING MODERN AGE AND PROCLAIMS: TO HELL WITH PETTY
SARCASM. I'M LEVEL 2 IRONIC.
TO
QUOTE COHEN, I'M YOUR MAN. COME TAKE A RIDE WITH ME AS WE BRING ON THE
SINGULARITY. LIKE RYAN GOSLING IN DRIVE, YOUR PROTAGONIST IS A QUIET BUTTERFLY,
GENTLY HANDLING THE TOOTHPICK FROM HIS PANDA EXPRESS SAMPLER. NEXT MINUTE HE'S
EXPLOSIVE; POINTING AN IMAGINARY GUN-FINGER AT YOUR FACE AND STOMPING OUT THE
HEAD OF AN OFFENDING HOTDOG VENDOR. COME FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS. NO ANTIHERO OF
NATURAL BORN EVIL EVER MADE IT TO HOLLYWOOD WITHOUT A HOT LITTLE NUMBER BY HIS
SIDE. DON'T TRUST ANYONE'S THE MOTTO, BUT IT NEVER HOLDS WATER WITH A FEMME
FATALE. SHE'S CRAFTY AND SLY AND BASICALLY A ROBOT. COMPLACENCY IS THE TICKET
WITH A PROSPECTIVE MATE. FORGET ROMANTIC DATES AND SPONTANEITY, YOU ARE TO BE
AN ELABORATE BIOHAZARD BIN. YOU COLLECT MY SPECIMEN AND YOUR LID STAYS SHUT,
YOU GOT THAT? THAT'S WHAT WE'RE GOING FOR THESE DAYS. THE COLLECTIVE
CONSCIOUSNESS IS ACHING FOR A NECRO-EROTIC EXPERIENCE SO WE'VE DISTANCED
OURSELVES WITH PORNOGRAPHY, PLASTIC TOY WOMEN, AND REAL WOMEN WITH PLASTIC
ENHANCEMENTS.
THE
PERILS OF MY DEVIL MAY CARE ATTITUDE ARE QUICKLY DIMINISHED BY ANY GLIB SLOGAN.
"BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW THAN THE DEVIL YOU DON'T," I'LL QUOTE,
SUBDUING YOU WITH A SUBCONSCIOUS REAFFIRMATION OF LOVE'S INEVITABLE SHACKLES.
WORRY FREE, WE'LL BE LYING THERE, WITH YOUR HAND GRABBING MY SINISTER CHEST
HAIR AS I RAVE ABOUT DEPRAVED ASPIRATIONS: MY LIFE GOAL OF MARRYING A LESBIAN
SIMPLY FOR SELF-AGGRANDIZEMENT; MY DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR THAT INCLUDE
HALLUCINATORY EPISODES WHERE I'M GIVEN A KEY TO THE CITY AND WORK AS A QUALITY
ASSURANCE EXPERT FOR THE LOCAL ESCORT SERVICE. YOU'LL LIE THERE SLEEPING,
MYSELF WIDE AWAKE AND HARDLY BLINKING, SILENTLY WATCHING YOU BREATHING.
WHISPERING WORDS INTO YOUR SLEEP, ECHOED IN DREAMS, I'LL SAY, "TAKE ME TO
YOUR MOTHER'S PLACE AND BUY MORE ROSE-PRINTED DUVETS," AS I SECRETLY ENJOY
THOSE THINGS. YES, A DEAD-EYED REPTILE LIES AT YOUR SIDE, MORE DANGEROUS THAN
DICK CHENEY AT A HUNTING RANGE.
DO
WHAT FEELS WRONG IS MY MOTTO. IT'S A WASTE TO LEAVE HALF YOUR PSYCHE IN THE
DARK. WE SHY FROM SHAME AND BELIEVE POSITIVE THINKING WILL PERPETUATE ITSELF
WITHOUT UNDERSTANDING THE FULL PICTURE. ILLUMINATE THE DARK RECESSES, EXPLORE
THE SHADY CORNERS AND SEE WHAT YOU FIND, I SAY. LIKE MY DESIRE FOR A DIMPLED
SWEETHEART NAMED ANNA WHO WORKS AT A ZOO. SHE SPORTS PIGTAILS AND COMES HOME
AND COMPLAINS ABOUT A HARD DAY OF GETTING PANDAS TO MATE. "THESE GOSH DANG
PANDAS JUST REFUSE TO FUCK!" SHE YELLS. "WE GIVE THEM GREENS,
MASSAGES, VIAGRA. WE STROKE THEIR PLYWOOD WITH COW-PRINTED OVEN MITTS TO MAKE
THEM FEEL AT HOME, AND STILL NOTHING!" IN MY VISIONS, I RESPOND WITH,
"THERE, THERE, HONEY," AND STROKE HER HAIR, AND CLEAR THE PANDA JIZZ
FROM HER EAR. "PANDAS ARE CUTE," I CONTINUE. "IF YOU'RE GOING TO
GO BESTIAL THEY'RE THE ONE TO DO IT WITH." COME NIGHT ANNA PLAYS THE
ANIMAL TO GROTESQUE SEXUAL ENDEAVORS. SHE'S DRAGGED OUT BACK LIKE OLD YELLER
GRUNTING AND YELPING AND HUMPING AT MY LEG AND BEGGING TO TAKE ONE BETWEEN THE
EYES. EXCUSE ME, I'M GETTING BESIDE MYSELF.
IN
A WOMAN A MIXTURE OF SEX APPEAL, INTELLECTUAL VACANCY, AND UNQUESTIONING
SUBMISSION ARE KEY. THANK GOD FOR GOD, AS RELIGION SHAPES SOME OF THE BEST
BROADS THIS SIDE OF COMMON SENSE. NOTHING'S MORE ALLURING THAN A WOMAN SWAYED
BY SHAME AND STRICKEN WITH THE BUG OF SUBSERVIENCE. SHE MUST HOWEVER MAINTAIN A
MODEST AMOUNT OF SMARTS AS TO MAINTAIN PROPER WEIGHT. MOTHER NATURE'S PARADOX
DICTATES WOMEN OVER 140LBS OR 30 YEARS OF AGE COULDN'T POSSIBLY BE ATTRACTIVE,
AND WOMEN UNDER 140LBS OR 30 YEARS OF AGE CAN'T POSSIBLY BE SEXUALLY MATURE. AS
SUCH, THE PERFECT MATE IS 140 POUNDS AND SEEKING A ONE-NIGHTER FOR HER
THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY. PROPORTIONAL BODIES ARE A MUST. AN HOURGLASS FIGURE IS
IDEAL. THAT, OR A BODY RESEMBLING A DRAWING BY COMIC ARTIST ROBERT CRUMB. EVEN
CELLULITE IS ALRIGHT, AS I LIKE THE IDEA OF AN ASS SO AMBITIOUS THE SKIN CAN
BARELY CONTAIN IT.
LISTEN,
I'M AN INSULTING, UNSAVORY GUY. UNLIKE MY SPUNK, WHICH I'M TOLD IS SALTY AND
SAVORY. IRONY IS THE CURRENCY OF THE UNIVERSE. EVERY OPINION HAS A FOOTNOTE.
EVERY STANCE YOU CAN TAKE, EVERY VIEW YOU CAN HAVE, HAS A MILLION TINY STRINGS
ATTACHED TO IT AND ABOUT HALF OF THEM CONTRADICT. DESPITE BEING POLITE, MEAN
PEOPLE DESERVE TO BE MORTALLY BEATEN WITH LEMON-MARINATED CHICKEN LEGS, SO THE
BURNING CITRUS COLLIDES WITH THEIR BITTER DISPOSITIONS FOR AN ADDED SENSE OF
POETIC JUSTICE. DESPITE RECOGNIZING THE BEAUTY OF LOVE, ITS LOSS COULD DRIVE
YOU TO CRUSH THROUGH A CROWDED SCHOOLYARD IN A MONSTER TRUCK SPORTING A
PEDOBEAR EMBLEM AND A SWASTIKA. DESPITE SEEKING A HEIGHTENED AWARENESS, ONE
CAN'T DENY THE SOUL'S OBSESSION WITH SADISM, SELF-DESTRUCTION, AND SASHA GREY.
DESPITE SIDING WITH TOLERANCE, ANYONE LACKING TOLERANCE FOR THE INTOLERANT
SHOULD BE NUDGED INTO A VAT OF SULFURIC ACID, BECAUSE FUCK YOU, REASON AND
IRRATIONALITY MEET ON THE SAME DEAD END STREET. IT'S THE YIN. IT'S THE YANG.
IT'S THE DUALITY OF MAN, SIR.
SHOULD
YOU NOT BE SOLD AS OF YET AS TO MY SINCERITY, HERE ARE SOME REAL LIFE QUOTES BY
SATISFIED FEMALE COUNTERPARTS:
"YOU'RE
KIND OF AN ASSHOLE BUT I LIKE THAT."
"FEEL
HOW WET I AM."
"YOU
DESERVE LONELINESS THEN DEATH."
IF YOU WISH TO RIDE
THE COATTAILS OF MY GIFT AND PROMISE TO LET A PLAYER BREATHE, I'LL PROJECT MY
LOVE LIKE A LIGHTHOUSE HOMING IN A SHIP FROM SEA, AND WHEN YOU ARRIVE I'LL HAVE
PREPARED A FEAST, AND A NIGHT OF PASSION, SHOULD YOU WIN AT A ROUND OF
CRIBBAGE. OTHERWISE, HIT THE BLEACHERS. NO INUITS.
FUCK YES, I'M STOKED AS HELL FOR THIS. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE DAY THAT I LOSE MY ANAL VIRGINITY BY HAVING SOME HUGE BLACK GORILLA COCK SHOVED SO FAR UP MY TIGHT RECTAL TUBE THAT IT COMES OUT OF MY LEFT EYE SOCKET.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
HOW IT ENDS - BELOVED
01. 11th and Arch
02. Words to K
03. Life and Death
04. Blue Skies
05. Walking Wounded
06. Manic
07. Medicate
08. Under My Own Breath
09. The Available World
10. Conscript
11. Afterthought
BRIEF REVIEW:
HEY YOU YOUNG AND JUVENILE DELINQUENT BRATS, ARE YOU ALL LISTENING? SIT DOWN FOR A MOMENT AND GRANDPA WEBMASTER WOULD LOVE TO SPEAK TO YOU... ABOUT MUSIC. ABOUT HOW SHIT USED TO BE. ABOUT BANDS AND RELEASES PRIOR TO 2006 WHICH IS FUCKING AMAZING COMPARED TO THIS SHIT-STAIN OF A SCENE WHICH YOU'RE ALL SWALLOWED INTO TODAY.
ARE YOU AWARE OF THE FACT THAT EVERYTHING ON YOUR FUCKING PLAYLIST SUCKS MORE THAN YOUR MOTHER DOES WHEN YOUR FATHER TAKES YOU OUT FOR MOVIE NIGHTS NOWADAYS? NO? WELL HERE'S A SMACK TO YOUR PREPUBESCENT FACES WITH MY HUMONGOUS WEBMASTER DICK, YOU STUPID FOOLISH NEANDERTHALS. DID YOUR MOMMY BUY YOUR WARPED TOUR TICKETS THIS YEAR? NO DOUBT YOU FUCKING SKANKS. HAVE FUN BEING FORNICATED UP THE ASSHOLE BY SOME OLD SCREAMO BAND MEMBER WITH TATTOOS IN A PUBLIC TOILET ISLE. I HEARD ASKING ALEXANDRIA HAS A KNACK FOR THAT SORT OF SHIT. GET IT? HAHA I JUST SAID SHIT. POOP COMING OUT OF YOUR ANUS WHILE THE SMALL PENIS JACKHAMMERS INTO YOUR RECTAL OPENING. BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT, REALLY.
THE POINT IS ALL YOUR FUCKING CRAP SUCKS NOWADAYS AND I DON'T KNOW WHEN A BAND LIKE THIS WILL EVER COME BACK. YOU SHOULD GET OUT OF THE CONFINEMENT IN YOUR STUPID GATED SUBURBS, YOU PRIVILEGED SCENE KIDS, AND STEP FOOT INTO NEW JERSEY AND CHECK OUT "THIS IS HARDCORE" COMING THIS YEAR. IT'S WHAT JOE HARDCORE WASTES HIS TIME PROMOTING WHEN HE'S NOT TOO BUSY BEING LOCKED IN AND IN JAIL. IT KINDA GIVES ME AN IMPRESSION THAT REAL HARDCORE KIDS ARE ACTUALLY CONVICTS WHO WOULD BOX YOUR BOYFRIENDS OUT AND RAPE YOU IN A SECOND. BUT THEN AGAIN YOU WOULD ENJOY IT SO MUCH BEFORE REALIZING YOU'D BE BETTER OFF CALLING THE COPS. THEN THE PENIS GETS STUCK IN YOUR HAIRLESS VAGINA AND YOU WOULD HAVE TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT TO USE THEIR JAW-OF-LIFE TO GET IT OUT BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL A BUNCH OF PRE-DEVELOPED TIGHT ASS PUSSIES. SUBSEQUENT CRIMINAL DISCIPLINE AND LAWSUITS ENSUED.
I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THIS HORRIBLE MUSIC SINCE I WAS THIRTEEN YEARS OLD AND BACK THEN, THERE WEREN'T EVEN TYPEWRITERS. NO COMPUTERS, NO INTERNET, NO FILESHARING, NO YOUTUBING, NONE OF THIS STUPID ASS FIRST WORLD SHIT. BEST OF ALL THERE WAS NO SUICIDE SILENCE AND THE ONLY WHITECHAPEL WE REALLY HAD WAS JUST WEIRD-ASS LOOKING ORTHODOX CHURCHES. ALL THAT REALLY WERE AVAILABLE, WAS JUST ME FANTASIZING ABOUT HAVING SEX WITH A REAL WOMAN AS MY PENIS IS PLUGGED INTO A TELEVISION TUBE WHEN THE SEXY NEWSCAST COMES ON CHANNEL THREE EVERYDAY AT SIX PM. THEN I CUM ALL OVER THE TELEVISION SCREEN AS MY SEMEN DRIPS OVER HER FACE WHICH I PROCEED TO THEN LICK IT OFF IN AN ACT OF ABSOLUTE DESPERATION.
WHEN NOT ONLY WE PUSH MOSHED NAKED TO THE BEATLES IN THE SIXTIES WOODSTOCK HIPPIE COMMUNES, WE ALSO DEFORESTED EVERYTHING AROUND US AND SET THE STAGE ON FIRE. I CAN'T HELP BUT TO RECOLLECT THE 10,000 GIRLS THAT WERE RAPED THAT YEAR ... BY MYSELF, OF COURSE. IT WAS THE ONLY DAY OF THE YEAR THAT COUNTLESS FAT MALE VIRGINS LIKE MYSELF GOT AWAY WITH DOING THE SHIT WE'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO PSYCHOPATHICALLY DO ON A DAILY BASIS. BUT THEN IT ALL ENDED. YEP... AND HOW IT ENDED ... I DO NOT KNOW.
FUCK YOU ASSHOLES. LISTEN TO THIS BAND. LONG LIVE FSU BEFORE THEY KILL YOU.
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