Production Halted

My second most dreaded occurrence in music production has transpired once again, after only three years.  My amplifier has been called away by God to beat down Heaven's gold paved streets.  Thankfully I was spared the worst. The computer yet lives.  A double funeral would be too much to bear right now.  Blessings are counted. 

These events might not mean much to the average musician, i.e. a sane one, but few people can mistake me for that.  The most important electronic components of my rudimentary music studio are the only family I have at this point, so the loss really took an emotional toll.  Instead of being able to describe the day as awesome, and really mean it, I was forced to say, "Fucking bummer, man. Sooooper drag."  Just for the record, the amplifier's name was Sticky, an endearing nickname that stands in contrast to the computer's, which is P.o.S.

For those interested, a memorial service for the item will be held at 4:20.  In lieu of flowers, smoke some flowers. The service would include music, but ffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuu.

Production of "A Null Leak Age" will resume as soon as I can muster the motivation to go find another amplifier.  I would pretend this never happened and soldier on using headphones jacked into the desktop, but they've been busted for quite some time. The procurement list includes those as well.

There is always hope that everyone will understand that many statements here at Symbols are ironic.  Sadly, the tone of thoughts does not translate into print.  Therefore the shiznit must out be pointethed.  I do know that God did not kill the amplifier.  It was the devil.  *__*

Thither Rests Swollen Recompense



A Null Leak Age continues.  This song, entitled "Yonda Lydare Ward," begins with a satirical dance hook, minus snark filled lyrics.  It ends with a piece of work that originally carried the most tasteless and offensive message I have so far sunken to, and will hopefully be forgotten.  The midsection is all "Yonda" though.

A Null Leak Age

The new lesserdevil album is called "A Null Leak Age."  A couple of tracks that spun off from the main body were already in circulation, but this is the first official song of the album.  I don't want to make too many comments about the work.  I figured I would try something new and STFU.

Description of song one, "Hoarded Lives:"
Sounds from a nightmare Kerouac had after drinking some of an "off batch" of corn shine, in order to come down from four days spent talking in short clipped rhymes while under the influence of biphetamines and tobacco. It was not the best time of his life, and the dream was memorably unpleasant. Strangely enough, the music in the dream was not what made it a nightmare. That was due to being chased by Neal Cassady wielding an iron ball peen hammer through a field of purple marshmallows.
The description may as well have read, "It is what it is."  At least the album did not receive the pretentious title "Reign of Quiet Violence," although the old ego almost sneaked it into existence.  Thank God Moo-Bun was around to draw my attention to the faux deep, holier than thou hipsterism such a title would have brought to people's minds.

Fin

Snippet

I did this to test out a new setup.  It's a shorter than most of what I keep.  I didn't like it very much at first.  Later it sounded pretty good.

"You will be. You. Will. Be."

Omens and portents have revealed that a few people of the world will soon suffer the release of a new lesserdevil album.  Though it will be for them to pass on what sonic convolutions befall them when they encounter the disembodied wails of that soul's perpetual torment, one thing can be said beforehand.  Practice makes perfect.  Applying the phrase "practice makes perfect" to oneself may rile the ego to subconscious irritability; the statement subtly admits that perfection had not already been attained.  But if these overworked ears do not lie, then the works have come closer to it than before.

Soon:  Er, in a month?  Sumpn'...  Oh, still working on the new novel.  Work paused due to moving; will resume after everything is settled.

Fron "The Empty Grave"

...

 A perfectly white marble headstone caught the first rays of a fledgling sun barely 30 years old. The illumination began at the top of the headstone. As the sun rose it spread amber glow downward toward the base in a crisp, clean line.

At the moment the light reached the ground hairline cracks appeared all over the headstone, or, they appeared to be cracks. They migrated up out of the earth and covered the headstone like a veil. In the blink of an eye the scene had changed, and just as quickly a tiny hum accompanied by an all-over energy glint that lasted longer than the clock could measure, in one brief second.

...

Understand Zees

Have returned from months in the hospital.  Will not elaborate at this moment.  Much of it was near death.

129 pages into writing a book that will hopefully quiet current fears of minute accomplishment.  Within, speculative fiction runs rampant, and offensive sexuality is kept to a bare minimum.  The work of literature serves to address this author's long and deep relationship with God.  These words can only be said while one yet lives...

Perhaps at some point loving God and still channeling through heavy darkness will be explained here.  Despite loathing all aspects of ugly and wrong, beautiful jut isn't the same without it, so it has been displayed once and again here (maybe too often).  Should life continue long enough it would be a tremendous wonder to present numerous pondered matters from the viewpoint of light and goodness that never leaves the heart of the consecrated.

Be good.  Be good at it, at it all.  Prosper and cultivate wellness.  Peace be unto you, and blessed be.

- Day


P.S.  As to the title:  Unless somebody has followed this blog on one of these days when I do a live writing session they could never entirely understand how the mess of words gets left behind.  "It reads all crazy like."  Could somebody explain how to understand the mess of garbage left behind by our financial system during one of their "creative" sessions?  It really looks like massive wealth confiscation for the wealthy, to some of us.  Thoughts and ideas being fired out at high speed for artistic sake surely has hurt few.  The same could not be said of hunger and poverty.
 
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Related written works at Angelfire, Sex Symbols, Cymbals of Silence.Repent or Die