You don’t have to click play to know that PIERREPOINT is going to be odd. They’re from Germany, which is often enough to know (sorry, Germans). Then they’ve got a nuclear explosion and that pointy, gothic, Third Reich font on the album cover. It all spells odd, and dark, and well… German. I’m half-joking of course, but there’s a sound. There’s a vibe and this sort of electro-Industrial grind spells Deutschland.
Slices of Death… it’s from 1993 but someone just posted it up yesterday on Youtube and I’m the 16th viewer. Igor GIG, who put it up, is a very prolific Youtuber but new apparently and doesn’t have a lot of followers. Shame really because he is definitely mining gold on his page. It’s mostly in a certain heavy, dark vein but just the sheer volume of it says a lot about him. I am humbled really and might want to pick up my game. It’s easy to get lazy with folks like him/her around doing all the work.
Maybe I need to pursue this hobby in earnest.
Or not, making it labor intensive takes something away from it, to be honest. This should remain fun, as long as it’s limited to my ponderous navel-gazing. God forbid it should take effort.
There is so much weirdness out there in the world right now and maybe that’s why I’ve had so little to say about anything No current events. No diatribes. I feel like I’ve hit a wall and something turned off, or maybe it just plain broke. The outrage levels just burned me the fuck out and I feel like despite that I still care, I can’t handle it. I can’t handle that horrible little murder-hobbit, Kyle Rittenhouse. Yes, I want the authorities to send him back to The Shirte in a body-bag, but my fear is that it won’t happen and that justice will ever be served in this case or any other, and then I’ll just be left with my outrage. This is one of scores of stories that I no longer have it in me to face. Yes, my ability to withdraw to a safe distance is part of my white privilege, but… where do I go with it? It was killing me. Seriously. I need a break.