A summary.

Lightest playlist comments ever! No discourse to speak of last night, but my main discourse is with myself anyway, so, not only am I my own best audience, and as much as it's unhealthy to spend too much time in one's own head, at least I developed no new co-dependencies this week. You reap the benefits of my playing records outside the house for three hours every week. ...I'm learning well how to spend HUGE amounts of time alone. ...I guess my "to read" pile looms now, lots of great stuff in there! My brain will again be full of dynamite, astute observations, commentary and general mindfulness, that I can then in turn share with NO ONE. I consider myself a "true" black-metal head, then, I am LIVING THE LIFE. All I need is a shotgun and a more rural residence, and I'm all set. I really am THAT GUY, and maybe that's what makes the weekly horrocast ring true for its fans.

...Most of these characters with whom I share many traits, at the very least, the oddball mavericks, have at least one woman who understands them, "puts up" with them, shares their life and world vision, but this is not to be my lot. And as I approach 50, in a few weeks, I'm looking at a long stretch, so maybe it's time to return to my teenage love of painting, YET SOMETHING ELSE that will acquire moderate attention, respect from a cherished few, and minimal if any financial return, like all the other things I do. Painters do occasionally partner with beautiful, inspiring women, right (?), so that's a consideration, and boy-o-boy do I have "visions" to share. Similar to my dream of being a private detective, I can always keep that one in my back pocket, at least until a hole forms and it falls out.

So I don't count on anyone, not really, for company or emotional support, and it is what it is, like losing a loved one, or a limb, you just keep on living. I heard someone in a film refer to themselves as "not having the constitution for suicide," oh, it was Xander Berkeley as Cotton Mather in Salem ... and I pretty much agree, there's always that nagging feeling that you might miss something, kill yourself just hours before some big label offers to M&D Prison Tatt, or my soul mate sends a tentative email to my inbox. So yeah, HOPE - hard wired, perhaps unfortunately, into the human coding.

So, my little radio show, I mean if you heard it you liked it, this week - you're of that rare, minor percentage of "Castleheads"; you like the music I like, and pretty much that sums it up. I enjoy music, always have / always will, it enriches my life, and you rare followers of this show understand that, and presumably feel the same. Life is, for its greater part, a disappointing, wretched shithole, and music certainly makes it "better." ...

A positive remark for the new King ov Antichrists / War cassette on Vanguard Productions; for sure their tapeography is breaking some new ground in the genre, and more than worth checking out. ...

And so, at least for today, I surrender, beginning the "Howard Hughes part" of my life, with neither great, accumulated wealth, nor "handlers." NOW IF ALL THE ABOVE IS NOT A HUGE ADVERTISEMENT FOR ME AS A LIFE PARTNER, I DON'T KNOW WHAT WOULD BE! START LINING UP, LADIES!

Thanks as always, for listening / reading.