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Friday, July 22, 2011

Fools dont understand the love in the pit!

One radial saw, with ridiculously large blade; made for cutting through auto windshields, and that last spot of hope for a desperate young woman, whose whole family has very recently been slaughtered. YOU GOTTA HAVE THE RIGHT TOOLS FOR THE JOB. "Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz, screeeeeeeeee (like an obscene dentist's drill times 10)—splatter, scream."

People think that I make this shit up, but I have yet to sleep since last night's horrorcast™. The unacceptable, dastardly humid air cuts through my paltry A/C window units, and my head is like a wellspring—not my mind, mind you, but my HEAD, the ring just under my hairline spilling over as though it were trying to fill a glass. I can't really stomach any solids apart from breakfast cereal. Unacceptable. No God would be this irresponsible, though I'm still flipping "Him" the bird at regular intervals.

Thank goodness the package from Tomhet came; we'll definitely hear some sounds from the formerly Canadian California wizard next week. But I get ahead of myself. Feels like a day for a Mario Bava home-bound film festival, Lisa and the Devil and Hatchet For the Honeymoon inclusive. Fingers becoming too sticky to type. There are definitely those with larger issues on their plate, though—the good people over at The Silent Barn, for example.

What dazzled the faithful this week? That staggeringly great Vomikaust cassette single, ltd. to 50 pcs. (though there may well be a vinyl issue coming soon-ish on Prison Tatt.) Please check out the Prison Tatt distro for other Primal Vomit releases, and other beauties currently collecting dust on my desk and shelves.

The Smoke Sententiën collection of rehearsal demos is also wanted for murder; available on Wohrt Records, out of sunny (and one presumes more so or equally sticky) Florida. A personal favorite last night was Senthil's Crypticorifislit release, and Castle listeners can expect more long-form black metal explorations in the weeks and months to come, as track times get daringly longer, and compositions and arrangements get progressively more elaborate (for some artists, anyway—the 1:30 blasts of Malveillance will never disappear.)

Alexia, the blood of a man she'd just met now matting her hair and salting her mouth, surely thinks these are her final moments. Grab one of them to get to the playlist and audio-archive options for this week's horrorcast.

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