VON - Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects (Join me on the Mountain Top)

Musical accompaniment is needed for the disaster movie of our times, as we witness western societal collapse into moral and cultural relativism, and the inevitable consequences befalling a society that no longer has any shared moral or spiritual bonds to shield it from attack. ‘Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects’ by ‘VON’ is an essential gift to the watchers of this ongoing, self-inflicted farce/tragedy, a moment in time where we can witness the fall of an entire civilisation. Unfortunately for us, that civilisation is our own, and the collapse, enabled by the left, pushed in schools, colleges, boardrooms, and on our television/movie screens, books, comic books and newspapers, is happening right NOW.

Listen to the sounds of decay, as VON take you back to where it all began, with mother, choices, and the reawakening of demonic forces that were there from the very beginning of humanity. In self-satisfied, virtue signalling deference to evil we invited them back in, allowed them to feed, and now, sated, they have began to set fires to our hollowed out institutions, accelerating the collapse of all that was built by men far better than ourselves. 

So sing along with VON as the world falls apart. Wail in despair at all that we have done, and how we took the architecture of western civilisation for granted, and so easily, lazily, apathetically, and with ignorance masquerading as virtue, gave it all away to ancient enemies, from the outside, and (to our everlasting shame) from within.

Dante in Hell, observes frozen traitors to their own people.

-To the nothing that we have become:


Atomised, so easily defeated into individualism, a bottom of the caged barrel concept, where trapped animals dig claws into the only companions that they will ever have.

Man built, listened to the enemy, and elevated the least worthy. Children reared by government strangers. Generation snowflake screams about safety, but can never be safe, in hashtag era of nailbomb inevitability, an era inheritance from boomer, into nihilism and relativism collapse.

Drugged children grow up into drugged adults, from Disney and Ritalin, to career, mortgage, debt, politics, television, and pills for anxiety and depression.

Why depressed? Why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel so empty?

Oh God twitter, why do you never reply to my lonely prayer call?

Dying boy, in bedroom, stasis the Internet, and fucking conspiracy theories. Daddy is gone, and mommy does not care. Free and independent, curtains drawn, in government containment camp he browses for answers, moribund, hidden from his neighbours, and the sun outside.

Councils and Bilderbergs rear political puppets that masquerade as choice, to the animals on the farm.

Hey George, Tony, Oh Tony.

Old left zombie re-birth. Rebel alliance, girls and blacks on television, movie screens, fuck it, you better say it now kid.

Boy, you better start talking. Friendless anyway, as end time looms, we all die alone.

Culled, easily, bedroom casualty, walking towards stickman, tax stick, electronic, the currency will kill us all. So easily convinced, but convenience is death. Annihilation sold as a benefit. We wanted it, invited the vampire in, and now she does what the vampire does, sucker, she sucks.

It all returns to mother, shielded from criticism by a word, and from velvet slippered choice we began to descend, into empowerment of weakness and guilt, so sowing the seeds of our own destruction. We did it all for her, but now look at what she has done to us.

Enemies invited in, by dear in power mother, as our new Roman Empire collapses, into relativism, dampened fires rekindled, old fires that were there from the beginning.

‘My truth’ means never a true word spoken, and Godless as we are, ‘truth’ becomes an opinion, and deceit cancers us all.

Oh, reap now, farmer of lies, for the harvest of no opinion truth is upon us.

From invasions, to conspiracies, compromise, convenience, tolerate the trucks of peace, death, into tombs of never was, with eternity pissing on the grave of a Godless, nihilistic, empty, divided people, judgement time is NOW.

So we, the culpable masses, we finally did it.

Stripped naked on the altar of progression, doused in Sunni petroleum, with Karl smiling from the pit below, a flame arose from the heart of us all, and western civilisation roared into flame.

In death, I spit out the fumes of burning corpse surrender, step outside of the flesh melting pain, into soul, with judgement hanging over what I have both seen, understood, and done.

Oh my God, here I am, waiting, it was so hot down there, and the people didn’t care, and the flames of self-deceit increased in temperature, slowly, then quickly, engulfing them all, and I could not help, though I tried, and I tried.

But now, my end begins, no more struggle, no more lines, they fade as judgement time is here, and eternity beckons before me, as lawyer word time finally ends, forever.


(‘Dark Gods: Birth of the Architects’ by VON: A soundtrack for the end of western civilisation, can be purchased, below. Buy it, and sit with me here, for a while, on the rise of Mount Purgatory, watching the city below, in all of it’s multicultural diversity, surrendered in hashtags and love, as it's culturally enriched with trucks, stabbings and nailbombs, and the people watch in paralysed impotence as everything that was built up through generations of sacrifice and courage is burnt to the ground, and all for the fear of a six letter word that silences us all.)

https://riseofvon.bandcamp.com/album/von-dark-gods-birth-of-the-architects-12-booklet-edition-digital-album

The climb had sapped my last strength when I cried:
"Sweet Father, turn to me: unless you pause
I shall be left here on the mountainside!"

He pointed to a ledge a little ahead
that wound around the whole face of the slope.
"Pull yourself that much higher, my son," he said.

His words so spurred me that I forced myself
to push on after him on hands and knees
until at last my feet were on that shelf.

Purgatorio, Canto XXXI:

VON - DARK GODS: ABANDON (Review): Generation Abandoned

VON - DARK GODS: ABANDON (EXCLUSIVE CD SINGLE + COMIC BOOK)
ABANDON EDITION
REGULAR COVER (LTD 25)
*Includes an exclusive advance CD single "ABANDON" taken from Dark Gods: Birth of The Architects Vol.II by VON (Available now for just $5)



*THERE IS A 50% DISCOUNT CODE FOR ALL VON PRODUCTS AT THE END OF THIS REVIEW


‘Don’t leave me here, mommy, please don’t abandon me’ and she does. A day spent working as a cog in a machine is more important to her than the child that she abandons.

LEFT alone in a day-care centre, the trauma begins early.

Tolerance

Substitute mommies are Doe afraid, spreading their toxic paranoia through the day-care centre into vulnerably abandoned minds. The natural female urge to caution, an urge caused by pregnancy, weakness, lack of body-mass, fear of attack, cancer spreads to ALL of the children, young boys becoming as frightened as the young girls. Gender identity is destroyed by anxiety. Masculinity is the outsider, the other. It’s something ‘dark’ to be feared, to be afraid of. All present in the day-care world of insanity must conform to the toxic soup of feminised trauma, fear and abandonment. There are no boys, just defective girls who need to be controlled.

The day-care world of frightened, traumatised, ABANDONED, children, raised in paranoia, are ABANDONED again into government school collectivism, dogs biting dogs, survival of the most brutal, trauma now a daily occurrence, school the Hell that will stay with you forever.

Into lost young adult world now, we move to purple hair, nose piercing, communist college life. Abandoned traumatised children, you finally have a home.

Diversity

Safe space, love trumps fear, hate facts, Nazi, Nazi, Nazi, stop bullying, feelings are all here, I need safety, bigot, away with your patriarchal mansplaining hatred, man. I need no man, brutal man, I knew you at school, generations raised by strong independent women, in fear. My mum did it by herself. No man needed. I’m gay, anyway, probably, perhaps just a little bit bi. No family needed. I need no daddy. I am a Star Wars girl, a force awakened girl, a man-girl, living in delusion, a life in dreams of gender independence. Hitting the nasty man in the face, he’ll go down, just like in the movies, oh crap, he didn’t.

In digital isolation, the hatred grows in collectivised faux-family, black-masked belonging, for isolation has peeled the skin of the mind, leaving a shell-being, programmed by Hollywood where the only solution to disagreement is a love trumps hate brick in the back of a Nazi's head. Show your family that you love them. Hit, hit hard, from behind, and run, we’ll cover for you. There is no debate, no platforms here, twitter block, violence solves problems, why talk when you can hit? Reality is the Internet in my mind, agree with me, like my comments, all dissenters will be exterminated.

Respect

‘DEEEEESTTROYYYYY’

‘I WILL KILLLLL YOUUUUUUUU’ 

I am a good person, and you are bad. The brick that was launched into the back of your head did come from my hand, but it was aimed with the righteousness of my convictions. You die because you deserve to die, and your blood on the pavement shall be washed away by my love juice of tolerance, diversity and respect. How am I to blame for the consequences of my actions? Love trumps hate, and streets must run with rivers of blood to reclaim this world from Nazi assholes.

Hatred, violence, bigotry, self-righteousness, birthed in that day-care centre, ABANDONED child slides into ABANDONED adult, all-alone, joins the illusion of family that is offered in college class delusion, lashes out, arrested, cries now, waits for his visitors, who tell him that he is an AntiFa hero.

Oh VON, tap into mouth I look at the world as it is today, listen to your warnings, and sense is made from the madness that surrounds me.


Disclaimer:

The music of VON offers human truths, but they are not a political band. They are neither left, nor right. Do not read this review and think that VON would ever agree with anything that I am saying here. I listen to their music, and this is MY interpretation, not theirs. 'Abandon' is a song of hatred growing from a sense of being abandoned. I link the feeling of abandonment to real-world events happening in a world still getting to grips with a masculine president who is a bit more than just another soft leftist puppet controlled by the globalist elites. I am a huge fan of Donald Trump. VON has no opinion on the matter. If you hate this review don’t blame VON. Blame me. I don’t work for a corporate magazine. My boss is not a leftist. My boss is the bloke with a daft beard who looks back at me in the mirror. I say exactly what I want to say. I am free, yes, truly, and that is why I’m so bloody annoying. VON, as ever, offers a portal into something  dark that hides within the deepest recesses of the human soul. I see that darkness exploding into the world right now, and I see it in the violence of the left as they try to come to terms with the fact that they are on the losing side of world history. VON offers you a ‘safe-space’ to explore that darkness. Put down the brick, take off the silly black clothes and enjoy the music of VON. It’s much better for you than spending another night in the back of a Police van and a lot more fun as well.



To open the door to VON click on the link below, choose from the abundant supply of VON goodies, and use the code “rant” to get 50% off all purchases. That is a crazy good deal. Take advantage NOW.
https://riseofvon.com/von-records

VON - Dark Gods: The Council of Seven (Comic Book CD Single)

*THERE IS A 50% DISCOUNT CODE FOR ALL VON PRODUCTS AT THE END OF THIS REVIEW

Violence beginning with the stalk, undercover, cloaked, watching, then a burst of energy as the lizard brain darts to attack. In teams with the uniformed solidarity that injects courage into the meek, illusion of strength feels intensified. A double-attack, no, let’s do it in our council of seven.

I watch the Marxist little boys and girls on Washington streets, black-clad, masks covering, slogan chanting, claiming victimhood, as all coward criminals, do, it’s a personality type. Watching as I listen to VON, marching bands, seething bitter menace, the totalitarian leftists of new Trump-era 2017. Young college kids, inventing bravery narratives whilst being protected by the cops they claim to despise.

‘He punched a girl. Arrest him.’

The cops, my new heroes, ignore them. It’s funny, the evil that black-clad weaklings manifest. Did you know that evil is a joke? I never understood it before. What gives ‘Birth’ to chanting spoilt not going to work fools?

Quiet again now, creeping, building. I can see a young Marxist male in a squat, twenty-one years old, impressing a girl. She needs a home, masculine guidance. Messed-up, lost, she just wants somewhere to belong, but more than that, she needs male love. How long do they have? Is it months, a couple of years? Going back to the college, to see if he can retake that course again. The dreadlocks in his hair can stay for another semester. She re-reads the old book that she didn’t quite understand. Feels smarter than white supremacist bourgeoisie, the class enemy of proletariat utopia. Poor dry rich desert girl, in love with tall boy because he talks of the Leninism interpretation that will redeem it all.

Evil is weak, ill, yellowing, it punches you in the face, and screams about victimhood. Evil detests authority, then runs to government guns when genuine rebellion strikes back. VON gets weak. VON gets the mindset of self-pity and violent decay. VON opens doors. I always talk about doors. I’m attracted to them. I like looking in. In the past, decades past, I would jump in, and slam the doors behind me. I bear upon me a scarred mistake, a badge of regret, a stain of youth to remain forever.

Today, with a mindset no longer in the gutter and looking at the stars, I still play it, the game of evil, but with Ariadne’s thread now firmly around my waist. I go there, to the land of sickness, places that VON can take you, but as the thread tightens I return to safety before danger engulfs me in the darkness of my past.

I offer to you now, a ball of thread. Here is my discounted entry point. Click on the link below, chose your room of exploration, put in the code “rant” and you will receive 50% off the full price of admission. Take advantage, but be careful, for VON is the same yellow evil as Marxist Anarchist weakness. Unravel my discounted thread, explore, but please come back to safety in daylight of Trump’s new world of do it yourself masculinity.


I get poetic, but there’s always truth in my words. Clink on the link below, choose anything from the site, and put in the code “rant” for a 50% discount. Explore VON, pick your poison, get in and see what is literally, on offer. VON is a labyrinth and there is a Minotaur there. Enjoy, but be careful. Doors are closing all of the time, taste the reality of evil, but don’t get lost within the labyrinth of eternal dark regret.


Click here to discover VON: https://riseofvon.com/von-records


Use DISCOUNT CODE: “rant” TO GET 50% OFF ON ALL ORDERS.

Black Metal Review: VON - DARK GODS: BOOK ONE + DARK GODS: MOTHER (CD SINGLE)

Tracks:

1- Mother: 8:30

2- The End: 5:08


A wounded creature, torn into a million infected pieces, poisoned with a nihilism of the soul, agonisingly aware of the sickness that condemn his life, whispers, pleads, cries and finally, sings to the life giving agent who started it all.

‘Mother,’ you do not want to make soul contact, for there is madness here, a sticky madness that binds to the abyss. Take the hand of your guide, and visit the frozen no-man land where insanity reigns. Breathe in the intoxicating dankness of the pit where there is blood on the walls, but do not linger. Be as a tourist, explore in safety, but then, please, return quickly to the love of your family and the sanctuary that is your home.

Two songs, ‘ Mother,’ a wail of disease, wallowing in degradation, on a cold marble floor, stained red with deep scars of despair. Did you really do what you think you have done? Ponder on it, for you have all of eternity, here, now, in stasis of regret, sick-boy you have reached ‘The End.’

Available at the link below, with an excellent comic book, raw-pain alien lizard god art, a narrative of Nephilim and bloodlines, sleeping Gods, awakening, a vessel, a boy, destruction of the world. If you are like me, if you are a student of Bible prophecy, Zecharia Sitchin, David Icke, Erich Von Daniken and Graham Hancock, if you know these names, you’ll want the comic book. If however you are reading these lines with a puzzled look upon your face, stop, it’s okay, there’s a door opening. Buy the book, CD included, read, listen, experience. The doorway to VON has opened for you.



Click on link. Buy now, music and book or digital single. Use the discount code "rant" and you will receive an amazing 50% off all orders. You can thank me later:

https://riseofvon.com/dark-gods-comic

Abyssal - The Cornucopian: The Awakened Force of the Sacred Masculine

Play track, and read.......

Do you hear that quiet discontented, maladjusted male voice stirring? At first in chaos, disorganised, so many nails, standing up, isolated, separated, disorganised, inefficient in solitude, then finally, together, rising above the parapet, in rage, unafraid any longer to sleep amongst the feminised, sedated hordes. We rumble our discontent, individualistically, believing our cry will never be heard, we cry anyway, a defiant roar of anger, a no, a refusal to join, to accept the collectivisation of acquiescence, until finally, a damn bursts, our individual voices merge as one, and a crescendo of violent rhythm crashes, like a wave against the anaesthetic hordes. The elite’s cry out in horror, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, the sheeple were to sleepwalk into tyranny, but no, the enemy, humanity, with the sacred masculine leading the charge, has risen, as one, as a NO, a defiant fist into the face of globalisation, of neoliberalism, of multiculturalism of cultural Marxism. The wall of tell lie vision iphone helplessness collapses under a tide of righteous male anger, a refusal to lie down and accept their plans for Armageddon, their dreams of chaos before their new world tyranny, the days before the end. Awakened in violent fury, the weakness of collectivised power collapses overnight against the barrage of western masculine holocaust aggression. The battle is short, and the dark suit wearing demons are banished to the pit where they belong. Man acts. God is the judge. A world reclaimed, the wall of obliterating masculine anger subsides, and calm returns, there will be no more sleeping, we wait in guard, tyranny will be kept in check, the sacred masculine watchmen of western civilisation sleep no more. We wait, in preparation, for tyranny to stir again. A single velvet glove, with iron fist, a smile for all, but warning to those that would collectivise the future. Humanity settles, the world prospers under free association, the non-aggression principal and golden rule being the moral law of the land. No more coercion, no more statism, no more uniforms, and no more leaders. The imperfect ape-like being, blessed with the divine gift of God consciousness, finally achieves its brave new world. It’s not the one the globalists had been ‘banking’ upon.




This piece was inspired by 'The Cornocopian' by Abyssal.

'The Cornocopian' is from the 10/10 album Antikatastaseis, by Abyssal, released on June 23rd 2015. BUY IT.

Abyssal bandcamp page: https://abyssal-home.bandcamp.com/

Extreme Metal- REVIEW- Aphotic, by Jupiterian: Will You Follow the Dark Collective?

Genre: Doom/Black/Death/Heavy Metal

Released: 14th August 2015

Label: Caligari Records

Listen here:
https://caligarirecords.bandcamp.com/album/aphotic

Purchase here:
http://caligarirecords.storenvy.com/collections/277955-all-products/products/14066142-jupiterian-aphotic-cal-037



Aphotic is a call to join the Dark Collective where five songs of dense, sludgy, snarling, guttural, melodic, slow, terrible beauty lead you through a life spent lost in sweet, honey dripped poison.

Opening track ‘Permanent Grey’ introduces the Phantom Piper, the Happy Ghost of the Dark Collective. He takes your hand and welcomes you into the land of swamp thick dust and dreams where absinthe slick, hypnotic, seductive groves of sweet, sweet poison deliciously choke the air.

It’s dense here, very dense, the fog is almost impregnable, but the poison is so honey sweet, and it leads you through the darkness, seducing you into an awakened slumber. It feels safe here, so warm, so carefree, and you allow yourself to follow, to follow, to follow, and to be lost within the dream. You are entranced now, and the Piper no longer has to take you by the hand. You want to follow, you need to follow, and he leads you laughing, dancing, and skipping merrily into the Dark Collective.

‘Daylight’ shows the dawn, the light of truth. You wake, startled by the Sun, your eyes squint, but the poison honey, it’s still there, and you turn from the aggressive solar blast of the day, and back to the sweet coo of the Piper. You walk onwards, following, the trance still compels, and the journey continues.

Onto ‘Proclamation’ where the energy of the Sun is dampened, the fog descends, and the march onwards continues. Light struggles to emerge now. Energy is sapped, heads are low, and it’s turning funereal.

The Piper no longer laughs, no longer plays, no longer skips, his flute is a weapon now, he waves his followers on, threateningly, you’ve gone too far, and to stop would be to be lost in the dark, vulnerable to what hides in the fog. You follow not because of the sweetness in the air, but because fear compels, because you no longer have a choice. The time for seduction has passed. The bride is in chains now, and all that is left is the onwards, inevitable march of time.

The eternal child that is within begins to cry. Why is the Piper not smiling anymore? He used to dance, he used to play, he used to sing, but now all he does is point, and order, and scowl. You are scared. The Dark Collective no longer sings in sweet, hypnotic joy. They look at the ground. Together, individualism has been defeated. Low guttural sounds of terror, self- pity, surrender and despair has become their discordant song now. They sing it alone, walking side by side, but strangers all.

The Piper looks your way, reads your mind, and he smiles. You see his teeth now, and they are black stumps, worms crawl through the decay, sweetness has rotten away what once was pure, sweetness has destroyed the purity that came from God. The light of the Sun was there, offered, but rejected. Replaced by sweetness, you devil, the self-inflicted rot of prosperity, of a dulled, idle decadent complacency, sweet hypnotic rot, you will kill us all.

‘Aphotic’ is the end of life, the end of all hope. It’s a grinding halt, a STOP sign. You stare at the nothingness, the damp soil, lines and lines of defeated lost souls. You see shovels, and the Piper barks his last words. They are orders, and you must obey. Hands grasp handles, digging, digging, and digging. The air still fogged, sweetened not with honey, but with sod, the mud of the ground, from dust we became, from dust we shall return, wetted with damp soil, eaten by worms, we prepare our future, entranced by sweetness, defeated by prosperity, we dig our own eternities.

‘Drag Me to My Grave’ is the final plea, not for mercy, but for the end, for the nothingness that is to come. A life spent following the Piper, from the seduction of our senses, chasing the sweetness, joining the Dark Collective. We have allowed ourselves to be marched to the Graveyard, to the mud, to the shovel. Why do we chose to be lost in the fog, to follow the sweet, poison embrace of the Dark Collective, to lose ourselves, to stumble into fear, into routine, and so quickly into decay? We dig our own graves, and hypnotically, silently, jump into forever.



Rating: 10/10 (The sweet, terrifying choices that we make, the choices that lead to eternity)

Black Metal Review- Split 12" with Hessian (The abyss stares back # 2) by Primitive Man- Unable

-Of the feelings unleashed through listening to 09:33 of extreme music. Make of it, what you will-

Get the song here:
https://primitivemandoom.bandcamp.com/album/split-12-with-hessian-the-abyss-stares-back-2

Primitive Man on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/primitivemandoom

Primitive Man on Twitter:
https://twitter.com/primitivemane


You think that morality is an abstract concept, that it’s not at all relevant in your life, a word as meaningless as a political slogan, an advertising campaign for a new, healthier margarine/butter concept? There is no God, there is no meaning, there is no point to anything, so let us all enjoy family time in a cocoon, post it on a government surveillance platform, an idealised mawkish memory for when the tears won’t come anymore. What you do has no meaning, so why don’t you just buy into the nothingness? Get this, that, the other. Cut through in-line, suckers everywhere. I’m going to get my own before somebody beats me to the punch, but where is the pat on the head? I need to convince myself that the lie is real. Charity mate, begins at home, and ends there. Nothingness begins to fill up with cancerous worms, you look for a lie, give me a lie so I can feel secure in my own emptiness. Not the void, there is no void, there is no nothing, though nothing is nothing. To give money to a collection box, somebody retiring at work for a plaque, nobody cares, nobody minds, they all buy in. Will a quid salve the rotten maw of my avaricious fawning, mourning conscience? And the collective, for there is a collective, ROTS. Oh, how it rots, maggots and flies everywhere as the mass collects in little tribal groups, feeling good, but only about themselves, only about their own, not caring, not really caring about what is going on around them, but only, only, only if inconvenience slights. Lives lived in routines of empty, selfish nothingness, there is no pit, I won’t look, don’t want to see, till one day. Routine broken, turn around, face what was there all along, no longer a concept, now as real as your boring traffic jam. The pit, the abyss stares back, will no longer be denied. A life wasted, you are dragged into what was always there, a pit of reality, and the eternal resting-place for your carrion prey urine blanched soul.

Rating: 10/10 (Don’t stare, don’t ignore, acknowledge, change, speak truth)

Black Metal Music Review: Temple of Daevas, by ‘From The Vastland’- Iranian passion

Band: From the Vastland
Album: Temple of Daevas
Release Date: October 6, 2014
Genre: Black Metal
Band Members:
* "Sina" - Composer, Guitars, Vocals.
* Guest Members: "Vyl" (Keep of Kalessin/Gorgoroth) - Drums.
* "Tjalve" (Den Saakaldte/Pantheon I/Horizon Ablaze/1349) - Bass.
Hometown: Tehran, Iran
Record Label: Non Serviam Records (The Netherlands) Indie Recordings (Norway)

Website: (Listen and buy album here)
http://www.fromthevastland.com/main.html

Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/fromthevastland/timeline



I have an innate need for a rasping, snarling, roaring, deviant, aggressive, powerful dose of spite in my black metal vocalisations, and that’s exactly what I get in ’Temple of Daevas’ by ‘From the Vastland.’

I noticed the immense power of the vocalist early on, but as I continued to listen I couldn’t help but recognise that it’s the rhythm section of the band that is holding everything together. There’s a pounding, relentless chugging beat about it, and it’s catchy as hell, repeating, repeating, repeating until it’s stuck in your head like a shot of heroin, addictive, delightful dangerous and compelling.

Click link at top of review to get this special deal

You feel your head nodding, your energy levels go through the roof and before long you are in fight or flight mode. That’s adrenaline pumping through your veins, and the snarling bite of the vocals are there all the time, kicking you, growling, demanding you pay attention.

I love the energy of this album, it's workout magic, keeping me going when I want to stop, the screaming, tearing defiance of it all is pure magic, and it has a sense of majesty, of immense size and scope.

This isn’t small insular music, it's big, bombastic blast your eardrums out stuff, and the creativity on display from track to track is extremely apparent when you listen to the full album in one sitting. It exudes muscular energy, determination, urgency, aggression and passion. This is music fit for a revolution. I absolutely adore it. It’s impossible to play it quietly. It screams at me, whips me upside the head demanding I play it louder, louder, louder, louder, and who am I to deny such an elemental force of nature?

This is my kind of music, if you have anything about you at all, any sense of rebellion, any passion, any deep soul aching need for independence, for freedom from the invisible chains of our age then you’ll want to get into this one immediately. I have no criticisms. I love this stuff, volume to max, play louder than loud, my adrenaline spikes to unprecedented levels. I’m pumped beyond all human endurance, and ready for anything.

Rating: 10/10

Comic review: Dark Gods Book One- Manifestation of evil

Writer and artist: Jason ‘Venien’ Ventura
Published by: VVURRMZFLESSSHHH Publishing
Released: November 2014

Website:
http://www.riseofvon.com/rise-of-von

The Culling, music video by VON:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=la_gn9zNYKk


The concept behind this book is not as confusing as you might at first think. If you give the book a quick scan, a lazy read, as if you were reading a typically mindless Marvel or DC comic book for example, then you might leave the experience feeling utterly bewildered and not that impressed with it all.

The aim of this review then is to tell both potential readers, and those who have scanned and disregarded the comic, to take a moment, to clear yourselves of all earthly distractions, to take your time and to slowly read the book again, and again.

If you do this you will find that the book is very rewarding, and well worth taking your time with.

The narrative is actually quite simple, so don’t let the lush, detailed, almost abstract nature of the artwork, and the poetic/lyrical text distract you from a story that is about the origins of mankind, and the manipulative ‘gods’ that are playing with humanity like a puppet on a string.

Without going into excruciating detail, the narrative is thus:

Mankind was created by a race of immortal ‘gods.’ These creatures have manipulated mankind from the very beginning of our creation. Their manipulations are subtle, sometimes its direct, other times it’s just a disease of the blood. This is the modern world era of states, of World wars, of Nazi’s, of the world that we are still living in today. The gods fight amongst themselves, and planet earth is merely a smaller piece of the larger puzzle. Humanity is merely a bug, the agenda is bigger, and the goals of the gods are interstellar, working beyond the limited scope of this time, of this place, of this reality.

A troubled young boy manifests a creature, a god? What is going to happen to humanity? What role will the ‘architects,’ the immortal beings who gave birth to the ‘gods’ themselves play in this unfolding drama? What will happen when the hidden manipulative element within us all manifests itself in this physical reality? Is this the end of the human race? Perhaps humanity needs to come to an end? Or, perhaps the seed of the gods; the evil seed within us all can finally be rooted out by the eternal architects, the parents of the universe?

Perhaps, or perhaps not.

That’s quite a bit of meat on the bone, don’t you think? But this is not just a comic book. It’s a sonic soundscape as well, manifest into this reality through the artistic, musical and creative talents of Jason ‘Venien’ Ventura. He has created a huge, all-encompassing consciousness concept that encapsulates everything that is happening in the world today. If you are familiar with names such as Icke, Sitchin, Velikovsky, Von Daniken, Hall, Hancock and many others then this project will appeal to you, big time.

My particular book came with a CD single of ‘The Culling’ a marvellously hypnotic, creepy as Hell track where the ‘gods’ detail their plan to cull the human race, to kill off the useless eaters before putting their final end game plans into operation. It’s awful, but I can’t think of any single piece of music that I’ve listened to in the past decade that is so in touch with the zeitgeist of our awakening Internet information times.

Perhaps we are indeed living during the end times, the time prophesied in the Bible? A time when the seed that is within the bloodlines of us all germinates, exploding into a final blood-bath of ruination, of destruction of the entire species, of the entire reality paradigm that we currently occupy as a diseased, destructive and state worshipping blood hungry, tormented and twisted order following race?

Are you ready for the end of everything? Are you ready for the time of the great culling? I sense a god manifesting. I sense something happening. I sense that an ending is imminent. Sometimes a concept encapsulates an age. It acts as a conduit, drawing everything into itself like an oracle of ancient times. The ‘Dark Gods’ concept that has been created here feels like an oracle of today, prophesising, warning us of what is to happen next on the blood drenched path that humanity has spread throughout it’s short and violent reign upon this planet. Something is being channelled. A manifestation seems imminent.

Rating: 10/10

Myrkur, by Myrkur- Album review- Elemental feminine black metal

Bandcamp page:
https://myrkur.bandcamp.com/

Music video (Watch it NOW): 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32KB0epn21E



I’ve been listening to this album for a few weeks now, but for some reason I’ve been delaying my review. That’s not like me at all. Anybody who has had a brief chat with me will know that I am a very opinionated man, a man who doesn’t really care if expressing his opinions is going to damage him in a social setting. I just don’t care. Take your bland niceness and stick it. We ain’t here forever, so let’s talk about interesting things, things that actually matter.

If I have something to say, I say it. Hence, this blog. An outlet for my overly opinionated rants about everything under the sun, all done under the ‘review’ platform, where I can launch into discussing whatever the hell I like.

So why the delay in reviewing this album?

A very talented lady

It’s not because it leaves me feeling indifferent, because it doesn’t do that at all. If I were indifferent about it then I’d listen to it for a couple of days, give it a scathing review, and then never listen to it ever again. Myrkur has been burning its way into my consciousness for weeks now and I can’t get enough of it. I love it. It’s the number one album on my car stereo as I navigate my way through the traffic jams of school run, keep my head down, support the troops, vote for slavery repeaters all around me.

So why have I been purposefully delaying this review? The truth of the matter is that I know that it’s going to be difficult for me to succinctly capture the feel of the album in just a few words on my rant happy blog. Go to the top of this little review now and click on the YouTube link, listen to the song and hopefully you’ll get what I’m trying to say here.

Myrkur has been labelled as ‘Black metal’ and it kind of is, but not really. There are screams, blast beat drums and furiously riffing guitars, but there’s a lot more going on here. There is a feminine feel to it all that’s new to me. It’s not the old beauty and beast thing, with male and female vocals contrasting with each other to create an effect, instead it is pure femininity, with choir like vocals, screams and anger, but not the tear you apart anger that Black metal usually consists of. It’s self-contained, yet expansive. A lone female voice crying out to the mountains. You can feel an elemental, eternal longing in the music, but there is no despair. It feels strong, yet soft, powerful, confident, alone but not alone, all that you need is within, and that within is connected to what is outside.

The standout track is ‘Nattens Barn’ the song I’ve linked to at the top of the review. It starts with the female choir, then progresses through a labyrinth of soundscapes that represent the feel of the album very well as a whole. Listen to it, if you like it buy the album. I also want to mention Dybt/Skoven, a track that is a trip to somewhere strange, but so beautiful, mesmerising and elemental, as I mentioned above.

I’m not sure that I did the music credit here, but that’s why I was delaying the review. I can’t capture it in words; the music is beyond that. I’m a huge Black metal fan, but this is music that transcends that limited genre categorisation. This is a debut album, and there’s more to come. How fantastic is that? Something is beginning here, jump on board and let’s see where the ride takes us.

Rating: 10/10

Dyatlov Pass Incident- concept album: 1959 by Ellorsith

'1959' by Ellorsith

Released: 26th July 2014

Released by: Caligari records
http://caligarirecords.storenvy.com/collections/277955-all-products/products/9611893-ellorsith-1959-cal-015

Get album (you can download it for next to nothing) here:
https://ellorsith.bandcamp.com/releases



I’m a big proponent of hunting down (and paying for) cool, original, independently produced music that is free from the tyranny of corporate mainstream media control and editorial manipulation, but even I have problems sifting through the hundreds and hundreds of bands and labels that are out there.

It’s difficult to know where to start, even when like myself you are basically only looking within the death/black metal genres. Sometimes I check out the desperately lame corporate metal magazines, but aside from a free CD on the front cover I get little of worth from them, especially when their take on rebellion is to have a go at Jesus and to drink yourself into liver disease. They are lame, tame and almost completely useless when it comes to seeking out original, cool bands, especially bands that actually want to say something that has contemporary socio-political relevance.

So what I end up doing is going on the Internet, normally on bandcamp, and take a lucky dip. I’ll listen to a couple of minutes of a band’s stuff, and pay for a cassette/CD and digital download. If you want to get the attention of somebody like me, somebody who will pay for your stuff, and do a quick review of it on his blog, here are a couple of things that would help me out, and make it more likely that I would check out your stuff.

1- Make your song titles/lyrics have contemporary relevance to the fascist new-world-order tyranny that is being constructed around us right now.
2- Have a really cool album cover/artwork.
3- Do an interesting concept album on something cool, occult, creepy, paranormal, historical, philosophical or socio-politically relevant.

Yeah, I know. Asking bands to discuss important issues rather than having a go at easy targets like Christianity and Fox News is probably asking for a bit too much at the moment. I understand. We have all gone through the same system of educational/mainstream media brainwashing since birth, so breaking out of the matrix is bloody difficult. Most people don’t do it because they don’t even see the matrix in the first place. But having a cool cover on your album is something that a band can easily do, as is an interesting concept album. That’s what led me to check out ‘1959’ by Ellorsith. The cover works, but it’s the concept that intrigued me.

Here's the team at the beginning of their expedition

I vaguely knew about the concept they were taking on.  A team of Russian mountaineers goes missing in suspicious circumstances right in the middle of the phoney US/USSR ‘cold-war period.’ A search party eventually finds their bodies, and it all looks very weird, and absolutely terrifying. If you want more details then click on the links at the end of this review.

In short, nobody is quite sure of exactly what happened, and how an experienced team of mountaineers all died in such bizarre and mysterious circumstances. Was it an avalanche? A military testing site? A Yeti? A UFO?  A Russian snow goblin? You get the picture, anyway the point is that something like this would make a great concept album for a shouty, screamy metal band, and that’s exactly what 1959 by Ellorsith is. They’ve done what should have been done bloody ages ago and made an album based on it. So, to the obvious question, is it any good?

Yeah mate, it’s bloody brilliant. Twenty seven minutes of howling winds, guttural despairing wails, growls, screams, pleading for mercy (in Russian) and the overall feeling of sheer unadulterated freezing cold terror. If you didn’t know this album was about some poor kids being scared sh**less, then one listen will fill you in very quickly, no context needed.

Here they are at the middle, just kids really.

It starts slowly, with a voice that sounds like a young mountaineer recording a voice message before the disastrous, final trek. The background music is already foreboding, menacing, the calm, but bloody creepy as heck calm, before the world falls onto their heads.

What follows is screaming terror, a cacophony, wall of sound snowblast of noise with what sounds like a supernatural beast screaming about what it's going to do to the poor mountaineers. It’s unrelenting, brutal, horrific and intense as anything you can possibly imagine. This is music with a purpose, and that purpose is to invoke a feeling of terror. It does this, extremely well.

The album closes with a track called, ‘Compelling natural force’ which is the phrase used by official investigators of the incident, basically admitting that they didn’t have a clue about what happened, other than it was violent, inexplicable and that everybody died. This track sounds like men lost in a forest, running from something, they are exhausted with nowhere left to run, they stop, cry to their mother’s, and wait for their inevitable death.

If you are planning on a hiking expedition then you’ll want to give this one a miss, especially now in these winter months when the darkness is creeping around us from dawn to dusk. It’s a pretty bloody terrifying listen, creating an atmosphere of constant dread, fear and oh crap, I guess that time has finally ran out for me terror.

The remains of their tents, ripped open from the inside.

We’ll probably never know what happened on the Dyatlov Pass, but this album does a horrifically fantastic job of describing the awful emotions that were running through the minds of the poor kids who went through it all.

I’m very much looking forward to Halloween this year, as I always do, but Halloween is always Scooby Doo horror to me. It’s funny, silly old Farmer Jones in a daft mask getting exposed by the stoner Dog and his buddies. 1959 is not Scooby Doo horror; it’s real horror. The kind of horror you feel when all hope is lost and you are running barefooted in the snow with some unknown monstrosity stalking your every frost-bitten footstep.

Some of the mountaineers died of exposure and hypothermia, but some of them died due to blunt force trauma. The injuries were described as being supernatural, coming from something that was not human. One of the female climbers had her tongue missing. That ain’t Scooby Doo, that’s bloody terrifying, and so is this album.


Rating: 10/10 (great concept, even better album)


Click here for more info on the Dyatlov Pass incident:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dyatlov_Pass_incident

Youtube video on the incident:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kVHFHIP9eWk

Black metal music review: Guthmers Hahl, by White Medal: Black metal call to action

TRACKLISTING:
1. Return of Pagan Yorkshire
2. Guthmers Hehl
3. Us Tiem Ut Bitter Folk
4. Ar Deeard Moor
5. Skratje's Gate
6. Afeeard Ut Setting Sun

Released: August 2013

I have some black metal albums in my collection that reek of disease and decay. Warped by the evils of the world they sound defeated, isolated and their screams are of torment, despair and gargling death. Guthmers Haul by White Noise is not one of those albums.

This is music with drive, passion, aggression and an iron willed determination to take the world by the scruff of the neck and shake the evils from it’s scrawny body as it cacks it’s pants in terrified realisation that we have something with life here, something that is not defeated, something with masculinity, testosterone, drive, strength and determination.

I don’t want to wallow in sickness. Give me something with will. Give me something that’s not going to go down without a HELL of a fight. Give me the angry snarls, the jagged and aggressive guitars, the whipping marching beat percussion, the euphoric rise of the chorus, the punch in the face determination to wake the people of England from their sleepwalk into new world order totalitarianism.

This is music to wake up the dead. Switch off your television mind control programming and inject some life into your veins. Guthmers Hahl gives England a much-needed kick in the nuts.  I love it, love it, love it.

Rating: 10/10

Click link below to listen/purchase a hard copy of the album:
 https://legion-blotan.bandcamp.com/album/guthmers-hahl

Black Metal Album Review: Abhorrence of Light by 13th Moon

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/13th-Moon/553037841387465?sk=timeline

Bandcamp Page: http://13thmoon.bandcamp.com/

Black metal should be dirty, cavernous and angry. It shouldn’t pretend. Put the corpse paint away lads, it’s not needed. You are not playing at being evil. If you want to be evil get a job at the BBC. Everyday one of their presenters gets arrested on child-abuse charges, and today a long time fixture on British television, Rolf Harris, was exposed as a decades spanning paedophile who used the status gained to him through working on television to sexual abuse little girls, for decade, after decade, after decade. That is evil. That is real evil.

Black metal is not evil. It is music, and when done well it taps into something else, not of this realm of consciousness, but something floating in the ether, a parallel dimension, as real as our own, no scratch that, a dimension far more alive and vital than our own dulled prison planet. To me, and this is a subjective thing, it is a realm of otherworldly defiance. It is realm that spits on the paedophile rings at the BBC. It brings into existence realms that will take those smiling charity working paedophile presenters to one side and give them a good bloody kicking. That’s my black metal. That’s what Black metal is to me, so don’t talk about Satanism and corpse paint, and any surface nonsense. Black metal should create something that transcends the everyday bullshit of this reality, and that’s what The Abhorrence of Light by 13th Moon does for me.

I’m not a bloody music reviewer. I’m not even a comic book reviewer, though that’s what I mostly do on my blog. I’m just an unpopular guy who has an opinion about everything, and although most people don’t want to hear it, I put it out there anyway.

My opinion on this black metal album is that it’s bloody good. There are only three proper songs, the other two tracks are atmosphere setting little interludes, a bridge of calm before more black metal fury. These interludes intensify the feeling of the album as a whole though, so don’t confuse them as being an exercise in time wasting, because they’re not. They are the backgrounds that define the whole. They are Dracula’s empty, lonely castle, high on the hills, falling apart, a relic of a bygone time that represents the lost, moribund, out of time character of the Count himself.

The three full tracks have furious blast beat percussion and bass and guitar riffs that are there to soothe you through the passage of angry noise. The vocals are demonic. A man tapping into the other realms, finding inspiration there and spitting it back in your face. There is testosterone and strength there. This is not a defeated soul. This is an angry sound, full of life, passion, blood and thunder.

The best track is the first. ‘The Rite as Sinister as Old’ defines the album. Brutal, it sounds like it was recorded in a cave by a troupe of pumped up, channelling souls who want to rip through the temporal realm that some mistakenly believe is all there is, and wake up the living dead that still insist on watching BBC paedophile facilitating programming like they are a good person, like the BBC is a channel for good people so they must rightfully sit like zombies in front of it as their life force rots away as they are patronised by the latest paedophile presenter employed in the land of the sick.

Get this album if you want to hear anger, passion, creative belligerence and the channelling of other realms through artistic endeavour. Or you can watch Animal Hospital with a soundtrack performed by the Lost Prophets. Who loves evil? Who is evil? Your television mate, it’s your television, not this stuff. This is angry and defiant, the complete antithesis to the real evil emanating from your television sets. Rating: 9/10

Black metal review: Searing Fires and Lucid Visions by Adustum

Website: http://users.telenet.be/teo/xxiii/
Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/adustumofficial

I have to say a few words about this music, as I’ve been listening to it pretty much non-stop for a month now, blasting out my car speakers as I go through the monotony of day to day routine, navigating through the indifferent masses, as they go to work, pick up the kids, go back to work, do the supermarket shopping, drop off the kids, go back to work, drop off the kids and so on and on, forever and ever in mind numbing, pointless, selfish, apathetic eternity.

You need something with passion when all you are surrounded by is faceless apathy and suburban cowardice and conformity. It’s enough to make you scream, make you want to dive back into the past, a past of passion and tribal identity where you knew who you were, what you were doing, and where you were going to. Not endless consumerism, routine, work to pay the interest repayments, all to private banks, who don’t exist because that’s a ‘conspiracy theory.’

Oh, how sick the world is today and how dumbed down the television numbed masses. The newer generations dumber than the last, spiralling down until there is no knowledge, no wisdom, just selfish career obsession and haircuts.

Where is the passion? Where is the life? There is none where I live, and so I dive into music. But the music is dead. Where is the passion in corporate music that pushes materialism and emptiness to those same masses I pass by in my car, blank faces thinking about work and relationship problems? So boring, so empty, and so I look for music out of the ordinary. Music that transcends the mainstream mind programming emptiness. But how to find it? I don’t know, you just look, and look, and look, and look, and occasionally you find something like this.

Adustum- Searing Fires and Lucid Visions http://adustum.bandcamp.com/album/searing-fires-and-lucid-visions

The entire album is just over 30 minutes long, but that’s all you need. It begins with a cry to the otherwordly, and it already transcends the banal. The drum pumps a beat of blood, and the guitars wail in anger. A guttural, powerful, urgent voice cries out to the daemon it will conjure through the gates of Hell, whether that daemon likes it or not. This is no request; it’s a demand. It’s a cry of life, of red-blooded male passion and testosterone in a world of oestrogen apathy and guilt tripping liberal feminist politically correct tolerance where nobody has an opinion, nobody has a personality, and nobody has any sense of life about them. Oh, we shall offend. This will offend. Turn it up, spray the suburbs red with blood sound noise of life. Click the links, buy it now. Rating: 10/10