A glitch in the Mongtrix
22
Dec/090
Dec/090
My graphic driver flipped the fuck out a while ago while writing something (still unfinished) and sometimes you have to wonder, when a glitch is so stunningly and unsettlingly specific in it’s output, whether or not it might be telling you something.
Agents are coming!
Herbal Infusions and the Fall of Things Being Metal
1
Nov/090
Nov/090
About 14 years ago I had the fairly effective method of deciding major events in my life by the filter of “is it metal?” and damning the consequences. You see, for a metal-head of 17 years or younger phrases like septic shock and frontal lobe damage are simply terms to direct a Johnny Rotten formatted sneer at, they were no different to me than an accusation of ‘you drink too much’ or a request like ‘please try to vomit into the toilet’. Metal. It was my Occam’s Razor.