New developments!

Hello, all! This is my first post in a while, ignore the timestamps on the previous ones, they were formatting edits.

TWO amazing concerts are coming up this summer: the first of which is Iron Maiden, playing at the Comcast Center on June 26th, which is literally in the week right after school ends for me. The second is the Mayhem festival, with Slipknot, Slayer, Anthrax and Whitechapel being the four bands on the bill that I believe are worth attending the festival for. It's on August 3rd, also at the Comcast Center. I think it's bullshit that Slipknot got the largest logo on the Mayhem Festival poster, but eh, what can you do. You can obviously imagine that I wish SLAYER were the biggest logo.

Yesterday, my father bought me something that is completely not metal, but still an amazing listening experience: Miles Davis's Kind of Blue on CD. This album conjures memories and vibes of great times past. This disc reminds me of when I was six to seven years old and would periodically stay down at my father's house on Cape Cod on occasion, often during school vacations. My mother and I lived for the most part in Springfield, which is in the western part of Massachusetts. I would rather not to go into specifics of my parents' seperation. We (my father and I) would have lots of fun together; he'd take me out into Hyannis and bring me into Spinnaker's, which is a record shop. Then he'd bring me into Funky Monkey, or Funky Munky, or however they spelled it. That store was a gift shop that sold oddities such as zebra-striped beanbag chairs, lava lamps, awkward ceramic ashtrays, bedside lamps modeled after railroad crossing signs, et cetera. (Needless to say, due to my still-present obsession with rail transit, I had to get the railroad lamp. I wonder if my dad still has it lying around somewhere.) There also was a store called the Lazy Lion, a toy shop. I had my eyes fixed on a Lego playset of an airliner and my dad would sometimes shatter my dreams respectfully by reminding me, "I don't know, man, that looks pretty steep," in reference to the price tag. There also was the Cape Cod Mall. There, we would pop by the food court for lunch. I would make the rounds to all the restaurants that had workers standing outside with a tray of chicken samples, and take a toothpick from each before deciding where we would dine. After lunch, we would stop by Barnes and Noble. Both my father and I are book lovers, I would usually pick up a book on astronomy or railroads, my two obsessions at the time. Attached to the mall is a movie theater, two movies that I remember most fondly were a Star Trek movie and Disney's Treasure Planet. Ah, how I miss that movie. Looking back on it, it makes me envision myself as the admiral of an interstellar armada of state-of-the-art starships outfitted with railguns, laser cannon and missiles. Which explains the title of this blog.

I love both of my parents, but I long to re-connect with my father on a consistent basis. I want to resurrect our time on the Cape. Having divorced parents puts me in a unique, undesirable situation. A situation that I believe can be worked with, nevertheless. It requires co-operation of ALL the parties involved. I don't want to get too much into it, but I'll just say this: two out of the three parties are co-operating, one isn't. I'm an only child.

Now playing: "Blue in Green" by Miles Davis (Kind of Blue, 1959)

Gibs. #3.

• Furries. I am not a furry. However, I am here to defend them. First of all, they're not called "furfags", you intolerant fucking cock-mutilating cuntrag piece of shit, they're furries. Yeah, some of them are over the top. Some think they are their fursona. But they are the crazy ones. So ignore 'em. The rest of them are cool. Some of them are sex role-players. Hey, that's good and all. We're all entitled to our fetishes. FUCK Encyclopedia Dramatica, I'm glad it's shut down. And don't give me that "What about freedom of speech?" bullshit. There's something even more essential than freedom of speech, and that's not giving people shit about being who they are. So fuck you and your righteous hatred.
• Albums. I have this obsession with assigning the correct album art and information (artist, release year, genre down to sub-genre) to all of the music within my iTunes library. The picture at the bottom of this post should show you what I'm talking about. Frankly, I don't want to have to look at a fuckin' music note while I'm rocking out to some Slayer. And Cannibal Corpse are the kings of awesome album covers, with the exception of the last two albums, which frankly had bland, generic, sucky covers. I love getting lost in in the album's cover and have it be an appropriate representation of the content of the album. Take for example, none other than Slayer's classic album Reign in Blood. That thing looks like a fuckin' medieval tapestry! Or a Hermonious Bosh painting. At this point, I don't really give a shit about spelling.

Now playing: "Stripped, Raped and Strangled" by Cannibal Corpse (The Bleeding, 1994)

The Tribulation

It seems as if my every attempt to try and heal my countless emotional wounds is futile. The Judeo-Christian God, and all of His followers want me to be unhappy.  I just want to be who I am without discrimination and hatred. How can something so harmful be considered right? I can only wish for humankind to evolve past religion, because frankly it's doing more harm than good. So many atrocities have been committed in the name of God. And even the so-called "humanitarian" missions to third-world countries bear the ulterior motive of indoctrination and intimidation. Every time I encounter any piece of evidence of Christianity's stain on humankind, I grow disgusted. Jesus wouldn't have wanted it. Or you know what? Maybe he would have.


If you want war, if you think I pose a threat to your precious little cult just by being who I am, just know that I, unlike you, have no narcissistic ulterior motive. I just want to be left to do what I do in peace. I don't want to change who I am. I don't even want acceptance in the eyes of the Lord. I want to heal. And you aren't letting me do that. 

What do I mean by "healing"? All that is considered "sinful". Listening to aggressive, blasphemous music like Gorgoroth and Deicide. Choosing not to accept Jesus Christ as my lord and savior, but still admitting that He was real and actually wasn't all that bad of a guy. Masturbating to members of my own gender. (For the record, I am a bisexual. Hate me.) There is no such thing as sin in my eyes. I believe that I am not harming anyone by doing what I love to do, unlike you. You try to justify your actions and claim that you're superior to me somehow. But in a way, it's the other way around. I try to be nice to everyone and respect people's opinions. And you know what? It's been hard, at times. I get angry. I screw things up and be the exact narrow-minded person I fear. However, at least I know when I am and try to correct myself so that I may do better in the future. You, on the other hand, are absolute. You do not change. There's no use changing you. But, there's no escaping you. Your stain of mind is omnipresent.


Now playing: "Sorg" by Gorgoroth (Antichrist, 1996)

Gibs. #2.

Another round of gibs before I go to bed.

•  YouTube. YouTube is a website that I have a love-hate relationship with. And it's mostly hate. In one of my previous posts, I ranted excessively about metal elitism. Considering that YouTube is an outlet for music that I want to listen to before I decide on making a final purchase, the comment box generally has people displaying their elitism. I don't want to get into it, because I already wrote about it.
•  Dogma. Religion shouldn't tell people how to live their lives. Now, granted, any person in their right mind wouldn't kill someone, rape someone, steal, etc. That's just the man-made traditional code of law. But then there's so-called morals. Let's say, that I'm a Christian. And according to the Bible, I can't listen to Slayer or have sex with another man. I think we've evolved as a species past applying false stigmas against natural human behavior. I just wish people could be more open-minded. As Glen Benton would say, "TO HELL WITH GOD!!!" (Note that I don't actually wish damnation upon any deity. I have just adopted the title of a Deicide album as my catch-phrase for shock value.)
•  Mission. My mission is to put an end to sadism and infectious imbecility that is slowly killing this world and stalling our progress as a species. And it's a suicide mission. It's futile. And that's why I'm pissed off.

Now playing: "Pushing Me Away" by Linkin Park (Hybrid Theory, 2000)

Gibs. #1.

"Gibs" are the name I assign to lame, frivolous, irrelevant, shallow, and very often short musings that relate to my life that will hopefully reveal more about my life. Here we go!

• Cannibal. Cannibal Corpse have a new album coming out on March 13th. It's going to be called Torture. I expect that the album cover reverts back to the gory, intricate covers that longtime artist Vince Locke has done. Also, I assume that they're going to tour in support of the album, then I hope that they come to my area. I live in New England. 
• Religion. I refuse to identify myself with any religion. I believe in the existence of a god that created the universe. But ultimately, I am the god of myself. I adopt philosophies consistent with many religions, including Satanism and Buddhism. I also believe that Jesus Christ was a real person, and a great role model. "Judge not, lest ye be judged yourself." Matthew 7:12 
• Concerts. I was going to attend the Gigantour (with Megadeth, Motörhead, Lacuna Coil and Volbeat) with my friend in Lowell on the 29th, but he has to go to a funeral that day. My first concert was one I attended when I was five years old. My mother took me to see Ringo Starr's band in New York on the Today Show. However, since I was asleep half the time I wouldn't count that. If I were attending, this would have been my first concert. I love public transportation, and I would have taken the Commuter Rail in. Oh well, at least the Mayhem Festival are announcing their bands on the 25th I believe. 
• Books. I love books, but I never have the time to read. I just finished Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, and it was better than I expected it would be. That book relates to my life in so many ways. Be yourself! Don't let other people influence you! 

Now playing: "The Beginning of the End" by Deicide (Till Death Do Us Part, 2008)

Schadenfreude 2012: An Exposé on Elitism Within the Heavy Metal Community.

I have a pressing topic at hand that I would like to discuss before I close this entry. That would be elitism within the heavy metal community.

“Bands that suck nigger dick.” “True and false metal.” “The Rev / Paul Gray / Dimebag Darrell deserved to die.” “U mad bro?” These are all things you’d hear being spewed from the mouths of a sad majority of the fans of heavy metal music that I have encountered, and you’d probably agree with them. Music is what should bring people together. Music is a labor of love, regardless of the intention and context behind it. Hell, a song entitled “Entrails Ripped From a Virgin’s Cunt” is good to me, because it’s aggressive and it screams for me when I can’t scream myself. But there are other bands (whether they’re within the genre of heavy metal or not is solely a matter of opinion) such as Slipknot, Pantera, KoЯn, Linkin Park, Bullet For My Valentine, Avenged Sevenfold, Evanescence and others that these metal elitists seem to despise simply because they’ve attained commercial recognition and they have enthusiastic fanbases. They’ve developed this militant code of what is “real metal” and what “sucks nigger dick”. (Not only is this stand elitist and egomaniacal, it is also racist and homophobic.) First of all, let me just say this: there is no such thing as suckiness in music, save for maybe extreme cases such as brokeNCYDE or Bring Me the Horizon. Only opinion. And these people shove their garbage opinions down people’s throats and constantly harass them just for having a wide range of musical tastes. They call them “posers” just for being who they are. And that’s just wrong. And then there’s another aspect: trolling. Trolls are people who deliberately talk shit on the internet just to piss people off. Some are successful. Some are easy to spot and thus, are called out on sight. Some, you really can’t tell whether they’re legit or just trolling. They also use a convoluted form of English usually reserved for genital mutilation fetish forums called “l33tspeak”. The most common phrase in l33tspeak is “u mad bro?” This phrase is the only retort that a troll can come up with when a person voices their strong disapproval of something, and behind this is the intention of only enraging the person even more. Another common phrase they use is “butthurt”. People get “butthurt” if they see something they don’t like. They mock the legitimate, justified anger of their victims. Schadenfreude is defined as taking pleasure in your fellow man’s pain. If there’s any word to describe the trolls’ and elitists’ intentions, it would be Schadenfreude. There is no better example of this than their relentless insulting of fallen heroes of music. These include Dimebag Darrell (guitarist for Pantera and Damageplan), Paul Gray (bass guitarist for Slipknot) and perhaps the biggest target, James Sullivan, AKA “The Rev” (drummer for Avenged Sevenfold). Seriously, how heartless can you get? Have you no regard for the feelings of the fans? Oh, that’s right. You want them to feel bad, because the music they listen to sucks, right? Like I said before, there is only opinion. I listen to bands that can be considered both “real” (Slayer, Deicide, Cannibal Corpse, Death, Anthrax, Testament, Iron Maiden, etc.) and “fake” (BFMV, Linkin Park, KoЯn, Slipknot, etc.) metal, and I am constantly made out to be the worst person in the world. It seems as if narrow-mindedness is the right-hand path. By resisting, I am apparently made out to be Satan. And guess what?

I’m damn proud of it.

Why I like Cannibal Corpse.

Disturbing. Abhorrent. Brutal. These adjectives accurately sum up the lyrical themes and music of one of – if not the – most notorious band within the death metal genre, the almighty Cannibal Corpse. Some examples of Cannibal Corpse song titles are “I Cum Blood”, “Evisceration Plague”, “The Spine Splitter”, “Meat Hook Sodomy”, “Post-Mortal Ejaculation” and, my personal favorite, “Necropedophile”. Which raises the question, why would any human being enjoy this so-called music?

Cannibal Corpse is also best summed up by a catch-phrase that appears on merchandise for Morbid Angel, one of Corpse’s fellow death metal bands: “Extreme music for extreme people”. Death metal bands vary. You have the technical proficiency of, say, Deicide, the seamless balance of brutality and melody that only comes from the likes of Vital Remains, and the progressive, introspective melodies from the band Death. However, all artists within death metal most often share these characteristics: inaudibly growled vocals, brutal, hard-hitting, and sometimes even catchy guitar riffs, blast-beat drumming, high-pitched, dual-layer guitar solos and complex basslines. Cannibal, being the most popular death metal band, is no exception. Whether it is the greatest band in the genre is strictly a matter of opinion. Most detractors of the death metal genre as a whole will cite their inability to comprehend what the “singer” is talking about due to their distinctive vocal style. Any music enthusiast with an ounce of maturity will put aside the death growl technique, and, for lack of better words, rock out. Death metal is music that is (commonly) the spawn of a tortured, neglected soul. Listeners of D.M. often want to find something they can relate to. While no person in their right mind could relate to, say, a song about going on a killing spree with a hammer, the aggression in the music reflects the pent-up anger of the bands that play it, and in turn means record sales from the music’s target demographics. I, myself, have a lot of reasons to be angry at the world and its inhabitants, and frankly, a song about killing someone sure beats the alternative of actually doing it. And Cannibal Corpse is the most accessible, recognized band death metal band out there. So who better than them to be death metal’s ambassadors to the rest of the world?

I’m not writing this to net in any converts to the death metal “dark side”. In fact, I’m confident that if you hated Cannibal Corpse prior to reading this that you’ll still hate their music now. But all I am trying to get across is a fervent encouragement for the reader to pause and be more open-minded. Cannibal Corpse themselves have gone on the record a plethora of times to discuss how their music is not to be taken seriously, and should be likened to a horror movie. Granted, (most) death metal isn’t the most substantial music out there. Songs about mutilating virgins and sacrificing babies isn’t going to make any significant political statement or state mankind’s ultimate destiny. But for the time being, Cannibal Corpse are happy to do what they do best, and their record sales reflect their dedication. 

One must understand that Cannibal Corpse actually does not represent death metal as a whole. They are the stereotypical death metal band, with fast-paced music and gross-out lyrics. If I were to recommend one album from them as my favorite, it would be their debut, Eaten Back to Life. The album has a more thrash metal-based style, but still is definitely death metal. Old-school death metal at that, with which you can’t go wrong. However, if one wishes to dive deeper into the genre, than the godfathers of death metal itself, Death, are certainly a band to seek out. In terms of strong instrumentation, Deicide’s 2006 output The Stench of Redemption is, in my opinion at least, the magnum opus of all death metal music. (Be forewarned that Deicide is a band in which practically every song is a concentrated, venomous assault on organized religion, Christianity in particular.) This reverts to my point about open-mindedness. In a way, Cannibal Corpse are a reflection of open-mindedness, despite their refusal to venture outside of their comfort zone of gore and filth. Cannibal also show the depths of the sickness of the human mind, and in turn, when applied into music, are the extreme outer limit of brutality. Almost never will something be entirely what you expect it will be. And music is no exception.