Wednesday, December 12, 2012
I Try *The Master Cleanse*, *The Stationary Bike*, *The Bikram Sweat*, *The Contortion Stretch*, *The Vegan Meatloaf*, *The Nightly, Scorching Bath*, *The Leafy Greens and Venom Television*, *The Self-Mutilation of a Winter's Run*, but We Can Only Cleanse Our Bodies so Much Before We Realize It's Not Our Bodies That Need Detoxing
As promised. Also, I need a day or two of quiet, or at least a day or two of shut the fuck up for my own sake. Jeebusfuck, 53 years to get metal. Hey, aim my ears at stuff please and thanks, I know shit about this.
I don't know how to say how I feel politely, or poetically, or without the jugular and collapse of the immediate heart, so tonight, I won't say anything at all. Just stare out the window at our stunned little writhe. Hold back the strongest urge to knock out a few of the capitol's most critical walls, replace its fiber optic cables with lightning bugs, replace the investment bankers all with bunker busters. I lock eyes with the capitol's bright and empty rooms and admit that, sometimes, deep in my affluent, American cells, I miss my body carved to projectile. I miss trebuchet shoulders and knuckles flaked to arrowheads, miss my hands massive and molded from molten to the bolts of ballistas. I miss blackjack and cudgel and quarterstaff and flintlock. I miss pummel and pike and I am not proud of this. I know it's not a healthy feeling. I try to un-arm, to un-cock. I try to practice my breathing. I try The Master Cleanse, The Stationary Bike, The Bikram Sweat, The Contortion Stretch, The Vegan Meatloaf, The Nightly, Scorching Bath, The Leafy Greens and Venom Television, The Self-Mutilation of a Winter's Run, but we can only cleanse our bodies so much before we realize it's not our bodies that need detoxing.
Labels: Aargocalyptic, Autoblogography, Cascade, Music, My Complicity, My Favorite Post Ever, Poem, Thrakh
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Makes me guffaw that one of your prime gateways happens to be *these* abrasive dudes, though I'm also tulip tiptoeing because there's another convert to The Riff.ReplyDelete
Forget them being a punchline nowadays, greatest metal album ever, goshdarnit.
Slayer's filthy finest, Tom Warrior at his ungh-chugging best, and three meisterwerks of black metal's second wave, Emperor, Darkthrone, and Mayhem, though always good to spin the circa 1990 live album 'cause Dead is there in his pre-suicide state.
You might like Gorguts. The front man is also a classical composer and a big fan of Penderecki.ReplyDelete
Get to the choppa!ReplyDelete
So listening to metal makes one a goddamn sexual Tyrannosaurus?ReplyDelete