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Blood, Devastation, Death, War, Horror (Shrimp)




    a rant about music




    american radio was sort of killed by greed in the 1990s and the 00s.   


    Bush and the war pigs sort of put the last bullets in, but it had been building up.

    the afterwash of the State fascists turning German Shepards and firehoses on Hippies for (nothing) whatever reason...the nasty, stomachacid afterwash of payola scandals from the 1950s...the brackish, foultasting, pukey afterwash of pay-to-play in the late eighties L. A. metal scenes...


    rock music must have had something awesome and beautiful and dangerous to say because of how it lived, dancing, avoiding bullets of psychic hatred from exploiters and fake friends who really smiled and said 'you're so khule' while waiting to kill it, hating it for its' intolerable heartfelt sincerity and useless, smarmy, cloying talk about love and care and holding hands.   that was what had to be crucified.



    under the darkened skies of rock music's golgotha, with jazz and conscious hip-hop also crucified, dead on the cross next to rock.  and that insensitive, envious, insincere Kurt Cobain who bought a farm all his own...

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      • cataleptik



        did the vampires win?   the closedminded, the dirty tricksters, the would-be sabateurs of original thought, the greedy 

        and shortsighted?  did they win?  is that this mausoleum, this zombie apocalypse of the frightened, scuttling,




        no, it's just one of those troughs.  

        things happen in waves, and something new happened.   BILLBOARD died in terms of relevance.  the little thing

        that MTV was for a few years also got MURDERED and replaced by a babbling, greedy stupid impersonator, still

        amazingly calling itself MTV.   But this happened.


        this cyber space.  and the tools to navigate it.


        before his demise, many years before when he was painting the word 'SLAVE' on his face, disgusted

        by the corporate vampires who wanted too much of a percentage for his hard work and the sweat of his 

        bandmates, the artist formerly known as Prince made a statement:  "it's all happening in cyberspace." Fact.


        The mercurial, visionary Prince Rogers Nelson saw through it all, through all the expensive

        crap and trappings of industry and a million merchandisers for every gig, and saw that musicians

        in a near future would have no actual need of Budweiser (thanks, Neil Young) or any other corporate,

        soulless Taking-Machine that only had the questionable money they printed.



        and while mafia pimps made sure that conscious hiphop was dead and stayed dead (no diggity!) 

        and uninspired repeaters made short work of what had once been the vital world of invention and newness called Jazz....


        something liberating and wide open was occurring to others besides The Artist

        (who probably got a ride on the Saucers, anyway.)


        inspiration, hated by the envious and greedy, of course can not be killed.

        if they scare EVERYONE to stop being inspired,

        time would pass 

        and someone would find that box labeled "INSPIRATION: DO NOT OPEN! DANGEROUS"



        and open it...