Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Dingo Ate Your Happiness, A.C.A.B. Forever, Welcome Mat

Coo.
Listening to "The Monad of Creation" by Mournful Congregation right now on LP. Specifically the song "When The Weeping Dawn Beheld It's Mortal Thirst." Absolutely incredible. This band gives me chills every time I listen to their music, especially on LP. There is just something about analog technology that makes it a cohort to the spirit. I am truly hopeful that I will be able to release Ruined's first full length on vinyl. Which recording for that record may start sooner than I expected. Sky and I are putting the final touches on the longest song on the record today and will probably get a good spring on another song before the day is done. As of right now I have 6 songs and am roughly at about 50 minutes worth of material. "The Monad of Creation" is exactly 60 minutes long so I think I am going to try writing 1 or 2 more songs before we're through. If those Aussie Doom Dingo's can do it then so can a couple of Michigan Gloom Geese.

So fucking gloomy.

"I'm sorry I thought this was America!"
Now for more complaining! Boy complaining sure is fun! I think it's healthy and important to release frustrations in a constructive and sometimes meaningful way. I don't lose sleep hoping to make things better or to change perspectives, this is just one maggot's inconsequential reflections. So with that being said, here's something that really cooked my cantaloupe the other day. I was scrolling through MY TUMBLR PAGE the other day and saw a post about a traffic cop. Basically it was just a picture of some random traffic cop and he was explaining about how it's his job to write tickets and that if it were up to him he would only write warnings but the system won't let him do that. So basically he was saying, "The system is fucked, I am just doing my job. Nothing personal." I am not even confused by that statement, but why do people feel the need to defend people who are in no way in need of being defended? While true victims go unheard and violently ignored? (Oh right...the fucked system that everyone thinks is super coo...) Listen, Johnny Mc-Mace-You-In-The-Fucking-Face-Without-A-Moments-Hesitation, (that's his Christian name,) does not need your help. He is doing just fine without you. I don't care if he is just an average Joe just trying to pay the bills. And I don't care if a few bad apples make the rest of them look bad (which statistically speaking is HIGHLY improbable.) They still willfully ignore their compatriots of pain and reap the rewards of their demonic fellowship. So please stop making excuses for them, fuck cops and leave it at that. I will never understand the desire to be obedient. Whether it be to a fictitious being in the sky or drones with Kevlar carapace. It is a disregard of the hues and transience of the universe. Constantly shifting and changing into infinite chasms of possibility. People worry too much about what they don't understand. They have to feel safe in order to carry on. "The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance." -Alan Watts.

Post show ritual.
On a more personal note, I have been thinking a lot lately about my participation within the world. Now as you know, I hate all of you with intense putrid animosity that makes me puke bile made from the ectoplasm of every dead person I may have ever liked who is gone forever and out of my clawing reach for companionship. Well, maybe not you specifically, in fact I probably could stand you all for a few minutes. But that is precisely my point, for the most part the people I know within my "community" or "scene" are people I generally like.  And I understand that as a musician, it would be nice to reciprocate to the overall music society. So I have been considering opening my home to touring bands in an effort to help out in my local scene and also help carry the burden of touring for all our road ragged souls out there. I also have been wanting to branch out with my vegan cooking so I feel that a comfortable sleeping situation and a hot meal would go well together. And if there are other musicians out there like me, when I get done playing a show I wanna get the fuck out of there and go to wherever I am sleeping so I can sit on my laptop and relax and go to bed as early as possible. My house would not be a place for party pissants or obnoxious oxygen obliterators. So I know that my house would maybe not be a first choice for some people, especially since we are a sober space. But honestly if you can afford to tour and party then you are probably an over privileged shit shingle anyways so they could fuck right off. Anyways, that's just something I have been kicking around the ole gloom water cooler. Who knows if it will actually come to fruition. Anyways, I should go practice bass. Bass is coo. Stay Gloomy. 



   

No comments:

Post a Comment