Gazing into the depths of the latest opus from the Philly cyber-death goliath.
The sky is falling in! Laugh! HA HA! I think I will.
Getting virtually woodchipped by a floppy disk drive.
Ramblings on resonances repugnant, riveting, tranquil, and biting.
“You can’t die if you’ve been dead for years.”
“Gaze upon the fetid rot,
Weeping wounds of the world forgot”
Excessive ramblings on timbres harsh, elating, groovy, boisterous, and psychotic.
“Hell is a reflection of myself, branded in the skin of those I love.”
Invigorating and alive, contrary to the deathly genre of which it belongs.
While you’re nursing your rusty tetanus-filled wounds, be prepared to dance your way to a cyber beat.
Eccentric, cerebrum-liquefying savagery.
Immolating our cerebrums.