Saturday, February 9, 2008


I hate the power cosmic.  Blowin’ up planets, makin’ suns supernova.  This shit is so fuckin’ old hat.  Do you know what it’s like to be able to hear every voice in the cosmos in your head, all at once?  Didn’t think so.  I’ll tell ya’ what it’s like.  It’s like shit, that’s what it’s like.  Just once I want to be able to go to sleep and not hear the universes I destroy screaming in agony.  Sure, I guess it stings a bit, bein’ obliterated out of existence without any explanation or good reason why, but this is what I do.  It’s my cross to bear.  I’m dealin’ with it one day at a time.  I tell ya’ what’s the most satisfyin’ about this whole “world up-endin’” gig.  A universe without Jethro Tull.  You wouldn’t believe how many spiral galaxies actually have radio waves of “Aqualung” floatin’ around in ‘em.  It’s fucked is what it is.  It’s like all the good music created since the beginning of time, from Brahms to Zappa, dies somewhere outside of our solar system, yet Tull survives in cold, dead space.  And for that reason, I’ll tear galaxies apart, piece by piece, molecule by molecule, until that fruity, flute-lovin’ shit is dead, dead, dead.




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