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


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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)