World War III Radio: Snapped Ankles – Come Play The Trees (2017)

I believe this is where English forest gnomes, Snapped Ankles, first entered the story. It would be easy enough to confirm with Google right at my fingertips but why bother? Call it laziness, or let’s just agree that the story doesn’t need to be linear. It’s not important.

What is important?

Well, that’s an interesting question. There may be no answer and everyone is just going to have to be okay with that. When you accept that there are no big answers, or at least not big enough to lend a sense of meaning or purpose to your life, it relieves the pressure of needing to define a meaning or purpose. That’s going to depend on the depth of your acceptance though. If you can comprehend that you may be just as random and ephemeral as any other clump of cells, you have two paths from that realization. Life is either pointless, or it is free. There’s a toggle slide between pointless and free and mine is headed over the line to free, but it’s not quite there yet. Every so often I second guess myself and slide it back to pointless, but then I wonder if there’s anything to do to change that.

There isn’t anything.

Just be kind.

That’s the test. Just be kind if you can find it in your capacity to do so without the promise of some cosmic reward at the end. You’re a cunt if it requires a reward, and you don’t want to be a cunt. Well, maybe you do, but stay away from me because I will do my best to hurt your feelings.

I’m not quite sure what I’m rambling about but I’m absolutely certain that I love this album and I can’t even tell you why. There’s an energy to it that makes me happy. It creates little movies in my brain and the moving images are a montage ranging from happy little forest creatures to people dancing in psychedelic lights. They are joyful and moving with a purpose no greater than fun.

But what’s greater than fun, right?

Fuck me, how I ramble. I seem to have lost the script.

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