Sunday, August 26, 2001

Never Enough Metal Department

I've spent the past several days listening to Voivod's fourth album, Dimension Hatröss, a weird otherworldly concept album based in essence on a scientist opening a hole into another universe and jumping in, finding himself in a twisted dystopian universe where primitives consider him a god and yet he is readily captured and manipulated and psychically invaded by "Technocratic Manipuators". In the end, he manages to steal their psychic abilities, cast the parasites out of his mind, and bring forth a quasar to destroy their world. The music was absolutely avant-garde for thrash metal; in many places you can even hear riffing techniques later used by later black and death metal avant-gardists. Technically precise and yet still raw and almost punk-like, it isn't necessarily their most accessible album, but it's really rewarding if you give it a chance.

Anyhow, this is one of the albums that blew my mind the most, while growing up, and it feels good listening to it again. It still manages to tickle that spot.

Soon I will need to write a press release announcing the project of assembling the most extreme female metal musicians onto one compilation. We don't have a name for it yet, but we have an idea who we would like to see on the CD, and we have interest from a few bands as well. More later....



Never Enough Slack Department

September is going to be insane with SubGenius events for me, and it's all slack as far as I am concerned. First, there is Dobbs' Long March SubGenius Retreat, Sept. 14-16, when I will be camping with a couple dozen fellow SubGeniuses from all over the country. And right in the middle of West Seattle, with all Conspiracy comforts a short ride away. Sick, huh?

Then there is the Tampa Bay Devival complete with beach house and some of the best damn preachers in all SubGeniusdom. And my rant this year is guaranteed to be the best goddamn rant you ever heard. If you're within driving distance of Tampa, check it out or kill me.



Never Enough Boots Department

My boot collection continues its mad surge forward, claiming closet space and seeking additional locations to over-run. The most recent attack was most formidable. First, a pair of Brasilian boots in well polished smooth-grained black leather, styled similar to riding boots but without bootstraps due to the placement of a zipper... rather neat and even "fascist" looking... made, appropriately enough, by Coup d'État Ltd. Second, a pair of black rough-grained garment leather thigh-highs with a nearly flat sole, zips at the ankle to facilitate their pulling on and off, and a nice nylon lining to boot. Absolutely comfortable to wear, if a bit big of foot--I had to order a 13 M to ensure it'd be wide enough for my foot. EEP.

Including my paratrooper boots w/ side zip, my stilletto bitch goddess boots, my knee-high flat-soled "pirate" boots, my granny boots, and my day-to-day ankle boots, that brings the leather boots up to seven. Then there's the couple pairs of vinyl ones, the fake suede ones, etc. Those don't count.



Never Enough Love Department

Funny how popular one gets if one posts a picture wearing a pair of boots and a lacy black dress on Yahoo! And it doesn't seem to matter if I make fairly clear I'm almost entirely into women, as most of the instant messages I get are from horny guys wanting me to... to do things to them.

Don't get me wrong. I like things. Things are stuff, and stuff is good, and stuff.

It's mainly that I prefer the shape and smell of a woman. I like where and how they are turned on, which is not always near their crotch. I like the softness of their body hair and the sound of their voices when aroused. Men almost never appeal to me on these sorts of levels. There are exceptions, especially if the exceptions look exceptionally cute crossdressed, but I'm not seeking a guy to make into a forced-feminized sissy slave, HONEST. I don't have the closet space anyhow; I collect boots, remember?

And besides, I have a girlfriend. A wonderful girlfriend, indeed, that shall soon wear my collar.

For the uninitiated, I should state there's a monosyllabic interjection I like to use now and then: "HNEE". It's the nasal sound a pervert makes, and it's pronounced "hneeeeee". Think Peter Lorre having a brain spasm over Lauren Bacall's rear view. Think phone calls late at night from asthmatic insomniacs with an obsession for bedsheet stains. Think hnee. Then knock it off, you're starting to creep me out.



FIN



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