E.T.H.

Say we are being visited by UFO's, but instead of biological entities inside, there are mechanized, artificial beings. Or maybe they are just alien drones. Perhaps, the aliens themselves would be augmented versions of their biological ancestors. A race of machine-like automatrons who with advanced technology and adaptability, survive the eons, travel vast cosmological distances, all in the endless pursuit of energy consumption. Say they discover Earth, take our resources, disregard it's inhabitants, and move on to the next source of energy. They would probably be indifferent to mankind's fate. To wipe us out would be pretty easy. They might concoct a virus, or some kind of biomechanized agent to infiltrate our bodies, one by one, exterminating humanity all together. It wouldn't be at all like what Hollywood purports, what with all the war and violence. Instead, it would be a sad, ugly, anticlimactic downfall. Or what if they are just star eaters, and move from star to star, devouring entire solar systems. Given how old the universe is, there might be a great number of these mechanical aliens who out-evolved their crude biological parents.

Triangle UFO's are particularly compelling. One of the most reported kind of UFO shapes sighted. Phoenix Lights anyone?

Foreskin of Enlightenment

Highbrow gnus galaxy glib fart. Uruguayan finch vowel of chariot jargon. Vehicle in the cosmos skin; sideways stare of the night long past. Eye gouged bib drowning in the leaning skycap of dybbuk! Hide in the womb of Cygnet gin. Gutter cunt weaving fecal bits of the gibbon talisman. Seeded covets of lime-filled bogey copters in the desert tongue lounge. Djinn ajax of aneurism fold. Flu shy and death defiant; an erratic fetish blush. Five fucking finger demons seething the holy cusp. Scathing the henchmen's daughter...Her headless demise met with the foreskin of enlightenment; a morphine vision of god. Esmeralda in Egypt, mound up of mind and constructing pyramids of amnesia. Lactic spinal disc modulations, insert that syringe snuff virus to tame the spasms. Finding wisdom in a cats tail, Movements of subtle raptures, the naked priest praying in the martian dressing room. This genial divinity! Hath dagger will become thy worm! Thou suspended throat preying on their beliefs. God is a glitch that never should've happened. Chug the sin of his chapel! Ego gulp in the stomach of ruin. Psychotrophic pupil opens and achieves a new world where nature and grace are but mere spectators watching stars explode; void of reason and question, without thought. Ahau! Gonmè legtúk. 

BDSR Review

"Ukiyo" by The Big Drum In The Sky Religion is a 70 min trance-inducing journey into the unexplored waters of the eighth ocean; accompanied by 'spirit women' and 'hidden fortresses' of night. This one hour+ song is gloriously bleak like a fossilized tongue in abscess yellow- where archaic shadow beings concoct hallucinogenic poison plants for the weakened mind-warrior. (Think 1800's locomotive carrying nothing but animal bones). Droning, distorted, dueling guitars combined with ethno ghost chants erect foggy Appalachian landscapes, while scalping decapitated heads along the great mescaline conquest to the west. But as with any journey into the unknown, there are periods of unease; like the anxiety of a LSD trip while locked in a laundry room with the machines rumbling and tumbling. Total blackened chaos. After listening for a while, all thought processes become deranged... You see the decayed soil of the Earth-Lord, and reap the ceremonial harvest.  The Big Drum in the Sky Religion have an extensive discography of limited CDRs, and cassettes; either self-released by their own "Free Studio" or released on an DIY label. For more info on BDSR, visit their website: www.thebigdrumintheskyreligion.com DOWNLOAD/STREAM FULL ALBUM FOR FREE @ Lo Fi Sci Fi Records: http://archive.org/details/lfsf-net050TheBigDrumInTheSkyReligion-Ukiyo

Pubescent Minds in the Orange Darkness

Filth ROT refuting the fact, any FUCKIN' pig of breed will tell. Sell the stock slap notch vector for half the price. Absurd fever assuming existence, forgiving the curse as blessing. The tricycle nail surgery is a horrid stench wrapping itself into a lisp. Death was on you from the moment of birth; feeding roaches at Motel Black, stitching grotesque quilts of skin from a petrified corpse nailed to a crucifix; the ground in it like a toe in a stick. Meet your life where it never begun...In the sea of unattainable knowledge. The grey fugue of insatiable desire tied the bitch to the tree by the neck. Septic crud of the charred frog and flu flat regards from the demon twin vomiting Earth ground. Refraining from error composts soil for fault. Dream diving in the stomach of the UnGod! Djibouti mouth of hellfire cracking shells of stillborn dismay. Highway of the Hunted, consuming the inked lanolin, tho she need not rebel the Machine; (Humanities spawn of L-Freak dictates the animal inside...) for the unseen fungi roaming the court-scaffold into a muck, is cold and ruthless as the dirty dollar jewel of joy. Bind the prey to her ergot web of gluttony. Stuck like an abandoned Faun helplessly dying in the thick mud, calling for the mother who won't come. Salvation for the tormented; unconvinced, yet unwilling to gnaw the cycle of Bynum! These children of foul play, these Pubescent Minds in the Orange Darkness...awaiting the victory dance of yesterday's war forgot!