The Moon gives you light and grants you all your indulgences
Never scolding your sins
But the Sun, he is not as forgiving
Repent, rinse, and repeat
The High Priestess
Call upon the terabyte philosophers for aid,
they will know what to do
Getting high on RAM don’t get overstimulated
It’s all temporary
A grocery store full of wax fruit is what we desire
I would kill for some grapes
We’ll all rust before we wrinkle if we can help it
It’s all temporary
The plastic bottle I used to help me breath,
will become the king of the earth
I’m glad I’m biodegradable
Joshua
I make my way back home after all the pale riders have gone to bed
This is my time.
Highbeam dreams threaten to close my eyes before my trip is through
This is my time.
I wonder if the president knows that the United States gets this dark at night
This is my time
Hairpin turns and solitary acceleration have brought me back to Jericho
This is my time
Will her walls fall for me tonight?
Subway Toast
This is one goes out to the friends,
who help me penetrate the walls with my voice
from pain, joy, or otherwise
To the ones who stare at the shower drain,
wondering how clean they have to be
to feel the warmth of someone else
This one goes out to the bottles,
who didn’t take it personally
when I threw them against the wall
To the Saints of Sound,
who save us every night
from self-inflicted crucifixion
This one goes out to the fighters,
Who work the midnight shift,
so their bones ache instead of their stomach
To the sun who will bless us with vitamin D,
so we can be what we want to be.
Keyboard Death Threat
Enough of the toxic cesspool of opinions
Enough of the narcissistic echochamber
Enough of the keyboard death threats
Enough of the marketing surveillance
Enough of the self-congratulatory social activism
Enough of the self-esteem roller coasters
Enough of the depression inducing memes
Enough of the misinformed witch hunts
Enough of the humble bragging
Enough of the disconnect from the organic
I was just here for the cute dog pictures,
not all of this
Ocular Trauma
What if all the mirrors have been lying to us?
They conspired for our destruction via vulnerable self-esteem
What if they need to be adored like the image they reflect?
They feed off our own vanity
What if the reflection was our own creation?
They’re just brutally honest
What if that’s not me in there?
Of course it is. Take responsibility for your own transgressions.
Why is it bad luck to break a mirror?
Because a broken mirror is really hard to shave with
Slayer and Me
As I currently write this it is cold, the Philadelphia Eagles are going to the Super Bowl, and Slayer is calling it quits. Now if you know me well you know which of these things matters the most to me. The shock of the Eagles beating the Vikings 38-7 has worn off, and I don’t really mind the cold. For those of you who don’t know me, Slayer takes precedence at the moment. Earlier this week, the California thrashers have announced that they are planning a farewell tour. They announced this tour in a brief hellish video, profiling their incredible 37 year career. This run includes both a North American and World tour. On this tour they will be bringing Lamb of God, Behemoth, Anthrax, and Testament along for the ride.
I was introduced to Slayer around the age of 12 when I had exhausted all the classic rock from my system (or so I thought). My older sister’s friends listened to metal and even played in a band together. I was introduced to bands like Metallica, Slipknot, and Lamb of God. At the same time a lot of my friends and peers were also into metal; meeting new friends just by wearing a Metallica t-shirt. I was what I like to call a metal sponge; absorbing all I could of these bands that were old but new to me. A binder of CDs was eventually passed down to me. I downloaded gigabytes of metal at a time, sometimes dedicating hours to the process of transferring music from friends CDs. Dark and macabre music that I never heard before. This was the moment I was dragged down to Hell and introduced to Slayer. Jeff Hanneman and Kerry King had a guitar partnership that could never be matched in ever. Tom Araya and Dave Lombardo provided the galloping horse for these shredding guitars to ride on. It was ripping, disgusting, and morbid. Araya’s demonic vocals told apocalyptic premonitions, fables of inferno, and tales from Nazi gas chambers. It was something I could never conjure in my worst nightmares. It was breathtaking. Eventually I would collect my own CDs, copying them onto my own PC’s hard drive and lending out to friends. Since then you can find me screaming “SLAYER!” wherever I go.
I’m almost embarrassed to mention how late it had taken me to see Slayer live. I was told Slayer was a captivating force and I finally saw them in 2012 on the Mayhem Festival circuit. My high school career consisted of times anticipating Mayhem Festival and the day of Mayhem Festival. It came around the country each summer and metalheads would converge onto the then Susquehanna Bank Center for a day of sweat, mosh pits, and metal. It was a great way for a metal sponge like me to take in as much new and old music as possible. Smaller bands would play during the day each having about a half hour set to tear it up. The evening was for more popular mainstream groups to take the main stage. I was very excited to see Slayer headlining the festival. Although I would be seeing them from a distance, it was still a fun time to throw down in the field. Slayer played their set at dusk. Their stage was simple and straight to the point. Their Marshall stacks behind them were in the shape of inverted crosses. They came at you with the Noise, like you hearing it for the first time. The sky fading to black made the mosh pit pandemonium that much more exciting. But the special moment of that day of that day was hearing the opening riff of South of Heaven I stared up at the Moon. It had just enough cloud cover to match the eerie atmosphere the song provided. It was truly a captivating moment in metal for me.
Since then I have seen Slayer a total of 3 times. Each show had its own stunning moments and positive vibes I shared with great friends of every gender, color, and sexual orientation. When I found out Slayer was calling it quits I was happy. I was happy that I was fortunate enough to see this band enough times and live in a time where I could consume as much Slayer media as I could. I’m also happy that these guys are ending their very successful career now. With bands like Motley Crue and Black Sabbath, they will end how they started: on stage. They have been a band for 37 years with members phasing in and out. Since the start they have stayed true to their gut wrenching sound and no fucks given attitude. When other bands were changing their sound with the times, they were able to stay unchanged and relevant. Slayer will hold a legacy in metal for all time. Anytime you hear a fan scream “SLAYER!”, a demon gets its wings. If that’s not metal, I don’t know what is.
** Thank you for taking the time to read this. You can follow me on Instagram and Twitter for updates on posts. My Instagram is @soundchefofficial and Twitter is @soundchef. You can also find my movie podcast at tortelliniatnoon.com **
January
The buttons big and small are polished for glory,
waiting for the megalomania to commence
Guided missiles awaken Gabriel for his song
His song can be heard in Philadelphia and Pyongyang
By men of the alley, carrying their cardboard crosses
crying “ Novus Ordo Seclorum”
The redwood trees will outlast this troubled empire,
waiting for Mother Nature to reclaim what’s hers
Wall Street invests in their own survival,
mars is waiting for their conquest
If I bury my melodies in the ground,
will they dig them up as artifacts?
While under the shade of palm trees America panics,
waiting for the rockets to fire
A false alarm will help you realize,
how much of a shithole your country really is
It makes you think about things,
and who you love
Wurlitzer Punishment
The sun is unbearable and awkward,
my pockets are empty
Not because my bar tab was high,
or my wages are low
But because of my heavy debt to the jukebox
You can’t sweet talk her into playing,
she only takes cash
I play the same song every time,
in hopes that you can hear it,
All the way up in your tower
But you weren’t up there tonight,
you were out, forgetting my name
The only way you can
I wish I could do the same
But I’m more likely to stab myself in the back,
than admit I miss you
Us
There isn’t any amount of chains
Or whipping posts that can hurt us
There isn’t any amount of small wages
Or long hours that will starve us
There isn’t any amount of burnt pages
Or broken glass that can stop us
There isn’t any amount of voting laws
Or wage gaps that can silence us
There isn’t any amount of Jim Crow
Or burning crosses that can scare us
There isn’t any amount of draft cards
Or machine guns that can change us
There isn’t any amount of privatized prisons
Or racist cops that can cage us
There isn’t any amount of hateful churches
Or Kim Davis’es that can judge us
There isn’t any amount of predatory presidents
Or Richard Spencer’s that can kill us
There isn’t anything that can end us. Nothing.
“If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be a part of your revolution” – Emma Goldman
Mark Bryson 