Don't you guys just fucking HATE the way that every time I post a doom metal album, I'm all "hey guys, I don't even like doom metal, but this band is pretty good"? (see past examples here and here, to name just a few.) I mean, enough with the fucking back-peddling already, who cares if you "like" that "type" of music or not, just POST THE FUCKING DOWNLOAD LINK AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY ALREADY. It's pretty fucking obnoxious, the way I basically just write the same descriptions over and over, never adding any new insight or anything, really just taking up precious bits of your mental space like some sort of pathetic mind vampire.
That being said, I don't even like doom metal. But Burning Witch's Crippled Lucifer is fucking amazing and classic and depressing as fuck and harsh blah blah blah etc etc etc!
You know the story already: Stephen O'Malley and Greg Anderson post-Thorr's Hammer, before Anderson formed Goatsnake and O'Malley went on to hipster shit like Khanate and Sunn O))). There is nothing "fun" or "rockin" about this album. It is pure hate and evil. Do drugs.
Prurient (aka Dominick Fernow) is a pissed off mother fucker. Really, really pissed off. Over the last decade he has become one of the more visible artists in the noise/power electronics scene. He started Hospital Productions, the label/record shop in Manhattan. Dominick is uncompromising, seemingly interested in only the most abrasive, grating "music" known today. He releases and creates some of the harshest sounds in the power electronics scene. In addition to noise, he also is deeply into black metal. Fernow not only releases/carries grim and frostbitten sounds via hospital, he actually plays in at least five black metal projects, most notably Ash Pool and Vegas Martyrs (Who I hope to share here soon).
This particular album isn't a completely typical Prurient release from what I've had the chance to hear. This also isn't his best received work within the noise scene. That having been said, I happen to enjoy this release and think a few of you might as well. This is structured, as opposed to the free improvisation rampant in the scene. These are composed songs, not excerpts from extended jamming. Some of his interest in black metal bleeds into this release. I think a lot of you who may still be new to the genre might find this slightly more accessible then some other things. I don't mean that as an insult to the work, it captures a lot of what power electronics can be at its best. And to clarify, this is still, by no means, something your mom is going to approve of.
Two last things, while I mentioned that this particular album wasn't his best received within the community, Dominick's music and label are generally well respected within the said scene. Also, this album is more of a "studio" album. If you were to see a live Prurient set you probably wouldn't hear these songs. But, you should go if you get the chance. Dominick is known for having some of the more intense, confrontational live sets today. Its not entirely uncommon for there to be bloodshed and its generally quite a show regardless.
Almost one year ago, in my very first post for IC, I described PDX shred monster Dark Black as "tragically under hyped." They had just put out their first full length record and it seemed like I was the only person in America rubbing my balls on it nightly. Now, 48 weeks later, Dark Black is hitting the road for the first time in support of their new recording, Midnight Wraith. The hype is still subdued, but finally, it looks like people are just beginning to take notice. Here are a few reviews, forwarded to me in their press release:
"...crank this or spank it folks, there’s some serious boogie in these riffs! Holy shit this thing stomps!" - Hellride Music
"...Midnight Wraith definitely harkens back to around 1978 sonically, with a Thin Lizzy-meets-Iron Maiden feel, and the band definitely has the chops to back it up." - Metal Underground
"If you are a fan of old school Heavy Metal this is a must." - Minacious
"As with their Traditional Metal peers, the likes of Enforcer, Ravage and White Wizzard, (to name a few), DarkBlack takes me down Metal memory lane to a time when bootleg and demo cassette trading was the norm." - Metal Odyssey
Wow, those are some SHITTY FUCKING REVEIWS. Holy shit. Enforcer? White Wizzard? COME THE FUCK ON. Dark Black, from me to you, scrap these shitty Maiden laden reviews and use this one. Besides, IC is at least twice as credible as Metal Odyssey.
DARK BLACK IS THE BEST UNDERGROUND METAL BAND IN THE UNITED STATES. I HAVN'T EVEN HEARD MIDNIGHT WRAITH AND I CAN STILL SAY WITH COMPLETE CONFIDENCE THAT DARK BLACK RIPS ASSHOLES FASTER THAN FOURLOKAREHIA. - Seanford, Illogical Contraption
Cosbro Lee wrote on Invisible Oranges today that where as Dark Black "aren’t really my thing", "I know folks who are nuts about them." This sentence was extra lols to me because many of my conversations with Cosmo go like this:
SF: Hey Cosmo.
CL: Hi Sean, nice muscles.
SF: Thanks. Have you listened to that Dark Black I sent you yet?
CL: No, I have a job. And I don't smoke weed.
SF: Oh well. Your muscles look good too.
If somehow you managed to avoid SELLSWORD this year, please stop fucking up and acquire this. It might be a repost but we try to make it easy.
I played with these dudes on my first tour way back in the Trigger Renegade days. After a few shows in PDX it was obvs we were never going to out rip these guys. We changed our name to Professor, wrote all new songs and gave it another shot. Two more tours, two more tries, but DB still got us pregnant with their careless spay of rizz (riffs that make you jizz). So we went back home, changed our name again, beefed up (or boobed up) our line up, wrote another new full set of jams and now we're off to cross axes yet again with the mightiest of mighty in the San Francisco Bay Area this weekend. The dates are below, see Dark Black.
DARKBLACK Midnight Wraith Tour:
12/1/2010 The Black Lodge - Seattle, WA w/ Skelator, Emeralds, Elk’s Blood
12/2/2010 *house show - Seattle, WA w/ Throne of Bone
12/3/2010 Kelly's Olympian - Portland, OR [CD release show] w/ Spellcaster, Dead By Dawn
12/4/2010 Bender's - San Francisco, CA w/ Huntress, Walken
12/5/2010 The Hazmat (Your Hause) - Oakland, CA w/ Dodsfalla, Bruxers, Infernal Graves, Drunken Hardcore
12/6/2010 Cinespace - Los Angeles, CA w/ Huntress, Gypsyhawk
12/8/2010 The Gup - Eugene, OR w/ Excruciator, Scrolls
12/9/2010 The Know - Portland, OR w/ Nux Vomica
PS - When googling Dark Black Portalnd, one of the first suggestions that comes up in the search bar is "what does dark black poop mean?" - WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
Apologies for my absence of late, friends, but further technical difficulties with the computernetting machine and a departure into vast, unexplored lands for some sort of American mass-slaughter-and-consumption ritual have left me little opportunity to share thoughts and information with you all this week. Luckily, I plan on a complete and total rectification of the situation today, with an amazing, hard-to-find LP that I hold near and dear to my cobwebbed, blackened little heart.
Stikky was an ancient (read as: mid-to-late 80's) grind/punkcore/comedy trio that spring from the fertile Gilman Street scene in Berkeley, CA. They counted amongst their ranks (after the first two demos, at least) one Chris Dodge on bass and vocals, a guy you probably know from later acts such as No Use For A Name (yes, he was in that band for awhile) and Spazz. If you are familiar with Mr. Dodge's work, you already know about his proclivity for goofy samples, goofier lyrics, snappy bass tone, and speedy compositions. Stikky displays all characteristics in abundance, but with the added element of teenage-ish pop-punk enthusiasm, which pushes it over the edge from mere thrashcore tomfoolery to pure audio brilliance. I dunno, maybe I'm looking at Where's My Lunchpail? through rose-colored glasses here--but spastic, metal-tinged jams like "Senator Hart Humped A Dumpling", "The Song About Annihilating Poseurs", and "Quasineomacroantiprioritizationalisticism" mantain every shred of humor, menace, and fist-pumping mosh pit value that they ever had for me. This LP is a fucking treasure. Worship it.
Mimsy Farmer has worked with all the heavyweight gore masters of Italian cinema including Lucio Fulci, Ruggero Deodato & Dario Argento. I’m sure she thought most of these films as just a grimy paycheck, but that’s what you get for being such a left wing liberal that has escaped the good old U.S.A. because of it’s involvement in Vietnam. Mimsy started off working for Roger Corman in his over blown psychedelic freakout “Riot On Sunset Strip” where she does a very slow Hullabaloo style dance number, because someone gives her too much acid. It’s pretty laughable, next she did some biker movies, and then the one Pink Floyd scored “More”. She fled to Italy meeting her later to be ex husband. “Four Flies on Grey Velvet” was her first Italian acting venture using her signature Charlie Bucket looking hairdo and waxy features she plays the girlfriend of a goofy rock drummer who battles a baby doll faced masked killer. Good soundtrack, but not one of Argento’s best (and probably his worst will never be released c/o Adrian Brody that film is “Giallo”). Next she did “Autopsy” working along the likes of Barry Primus and Ray Lovelock that likeable longhaired commie bastard from “Breakfast at Manchester Morgue” Meanwhile the only reason she’s suffering with these awful movies is to rebel against the U.S. foreign policy and how many leftie pinko commies would actually leave the U.S only to end up in this kind of low quality dreck. I’m sure she had no idea that she was working with these horror masters and probably wasn’t even aware of who they were. She slugged it out with Ruggero Deodato in the “Concord Affair” and work along side Ed Purdom who played the dean in “Pieces”. She was probably lucky to not have known about “Cannibal Holocaust” before taking this job. Fulci always treated women like shit, case in point the poor girl in “City of the Living Dead” who ingested actual sheep guts only to vomit them out. So now I’m wondering how many other actors would reject the foreign wars policy of now and leave the country not many they are all total whores!
Well shit, since we're already here in Sweden, I might as well post another nugget of fiendish malevolence from that fair country, namely Cemetary's 1992 DM opus An Evil Shade of Grey. At its core, Shade of Grey is a pretty standard early-90's-Swedeath album--which of course isn't a bad thing at all--but after a moment, one's attention is drawn to the strange keyboard flourishes wisping about ethereally in between the crushing, fuzzed-out guitar riffs and blastbeats, and by the time that the oddly "broken-hearted" lyrics of the (still thunderous) sixth track "Scars" roll around, one's mind might start questioning exactly what is going on here. Indeed, it makes perfect sense that Cemetary went the same sad direction that other once-great bands like Morgoth and Septic Flesh (to a lesser extent) went as well later in their careers: to that mascara-ed, frilly-shirted pit of undeniable mediocrity known as "gothic metal". But discarding this album due to that sorry fact would be tantamount to throwing out the proverbial "baby" with the proverbial "bathwater"--Shade of Grey stands to this day as a killer fucking release, as heavy and rippin' as just about anything else on the market in 1992. In a way, all the elven grab-assery on this album just adds character to it. Personally, I'd rather have a little variety here and there with my crunchy DM, rather than another 40-minute slog through the same tired riffs and caveman drumming--even if said "variety" consists of a little lute-strumming, keyboard-tickling, or ambient ninny-ism. That's just how I roll.
Jesus Christ, IllCon needs something to get the foul taste of "Ambient Christian Hardcore" out of its collective mouth. Something completely Satanic, full of hatred and unabashed, sickening violence. Preferably something from Sweden. Oh, hello there, Craft. Great timing. I was first turned on to Craft by IllCon uber-Bro The Goodkind, and I've been snappin' my fingers to their upbeat soft-rock jams ever since. Boasting lyrical themes such as "Destruction, Death, Evil, Chaos, and Hatred", these sick fuckers display an intense disgust with all things False and Ungrim, and tonight I present their first two non-demo releases as a testament to all things bleak and unholy. Their rookie full-length, 2000's Total Soul Rape, is quite a bit more raw and harsh than their second, 2002's Terror Propaganda--but that one ain't no basket of posies either. In fact, both of these albums are just mean-spirited, ugly, and dirty as fuck--just as metal should be.
"A BULLET FOR PRETTY BOY"?!?! Are you fucking serious?!?! You named your fucking band "A Bullet For Fucking Pretty Boy"?!?! Why in the name of all things holy and sacred would you give your fucking band such a fucking stupid fucking name!?!? I mean, I've heard some shitty "metal" band names in my time: We Butter Our Bread With Butter, The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza, The Forrest Gump Mile High Marathon... But I mean, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, MAN! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL? Your band name was unbelievably shitty even the FIRST time I heard it... When it was BULLET FOR MY VALENTINE. But this... Fuck, man....
Let me guess, you fucking idiots play some sort of "hardcore-infused Christian metal", right? I'd be willing to bet ANYTHING that Jesus is involved with your whole stupid fucking trip somehow. Let's see... Checking your page on "Myspace Beta" (WTF?)...
BAM! "Hardcore/Christian/Ambient"! In your OWN FUCKING WORDS!!! Let me give you one quick tip here, you fucking sorry-ass gaggle of limp-wristed pussy-farts: those three words, "hardcore", "Christian", and "ambient"--THEY DON'T BELONG TOGETHER. IN ANY SITUATION. EVER.
You are scum. Your music is shit. PLEASE kill yourself.
LOL @ "Live Love"'s fucking sandals
Oh, this is just fucking GREAT. A fucking acoustic set... At fucking Hot Topic!?!? Jesus fucking nail-shitting asshole of Christ! YOU fuckers are the reason I grind my teeth when I sleep. YOU are the reason I feel the need to choke out every floppy-haired, tight-pantsed kid rocking an Iron Maiden shirt I see on Haight Street. You're ruining everything. You have no soul.
I understand why you guys are doing this, I guess. For kids your age, "hardcore" and "metal" mean the exact opposite of what they did 10, 15, 20, shit, 30 years ago. This is music for the "cool" kids now, a style that, if you conform to the exact rules and regulations, might score you a record deal (it did), shit, might even lead to you getting laid. OH WAIT, you little weasels are CHRISTIAN, riiight. Let's change that last part to "might even lead to some really HOT hand-holding" (or whatever it is you poor, deluded, asexual boy-waifs do to girls). My point is this: You turds are simply conforming to an established market, to appear "stylish" and maybe make a couple bucks. Your parents bought your tour van and give you a free place to live, right? Sure. I don't fault you for that. Take the free ride, let Daddy's lawfirm foot the bill. What does offend me is the COMPLETE LACK OF AESTHETIC VALUE, THE VAPID, SOULLESS "MUSIC", and, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, THAT TERRIBLE FUCKING EXCUSE FOR A "BAND NAME"... "A Bullet For Pretty Boy"? I still can't believe it.
LET JESUS TITTY-FUCK YOU! LET JESUS TITTY-FUCK YOU!!!
Just to make everything 100%, absolutely fucking CRYSTAL clear, allow me to sum up my thoughts here:
YOUR GOD DOESN'T EXIST AND YOUR MUSIC IS LOWER THAN THE LOWEST IMAGINABLE FORM OF ROTTING, PURULENT PIGSHIT. IF THERE EVER WAS A "JESUS" (AND THERE WASN'T), HE WOULD TURN HIS BACK ON YOU AND CAST YOU OUT OF HIS FLOCK, IF ONLY TO CONVINCE YOU TO PUT DOWN YOUR GUITARS, YOUR KEYBOARDS, YOUR DRUMSTICKS, YOUR MICROPHONES, AND JUST WALK AWAY... WALK AWAY FROM "MUSIC" FOREVER, ALWAYS, FOR ETERNITY. DON'T EVER, EVER, EVER COME BACK. YOUR "INPUT" IS NOT NEEDED. GET A JOB, STOP LIVING OFF YOUR PARENTS, GO FAR, FAR, FAR AWAY FROM US--THE PEOPLE WHO APPRECIATE REAL MUSIC, MUSIC WITH SOUL, MUSIC WITH INTEGRITY, MUSIC WITH FUCKING BALLS!
You're running out of time! If you haven't Loko'ed you haven't lived.
Oh, and just for the hell of it...
Here's something from Wolf Roxon of The Moldy Dogs to balance everything out:
"In the early 1970s, rock and roll was dead. Everyone pretty much agreed with this premise. Ok, Led Zeppelin still rocked some arenas, The Stooges were in full swing, there was a 1950s revivals and even Dave Edmunds had a hit. But, before the internet, satellite radio, and cable tv, we depended on radio for our exposure to music. And it was pretty much devoid of rock and roll. Especially after the rise of disco, record companies were only interested in music similar to that currently on the top of the charts and were cautious about sinking money into 'developing groups', or to market outside of the mainstream.
"When we lived in Los Angeles, I spent countless hours of literally every day taking our demo tapes to the big record labels, then, eventually the small. In the mid-1970's the record companies would, for the most part, listen to your demos, or at least a song. We were rejected by all. They simply could not imagine a market for our music and they realized we were about as far as one could be from disco or even the overproduced rock they promoted...
Early punks with no dorky hair, piercings, or tattoos.
"Record companies invest millions of dollars into groups and like to know that they are marketable. They tended to pigeonhole you, that is, defining your niche and determining your audience. If you area an unknown doing something that's undefinable, you are useless to them. And that was the Moldy Dogs in a nutshell.
"When we signed our management contract for The Tears I asked our manager how they planned on 'selling us'. The answer: 'We consider you the next Aerosmith.' We couldn't think of one rock band we resembled less than Aerosmith. So, the pros are seldom right when they pigeonhole, but they have the purse strings."
Oh, and for the record, that Yaphet Kotto post was awesome.
A little while back, Peter posted Anal Cunt's new "cock rock" album Fuckin' A. An excellent addition to their catalog, to be sure, but a comment left by our old friend Ambassador MAGMA reminded me of yet another A.C. classic, the hilarious and heartwarming Picnic of Love. It is this album that we gather to celebrate here today.
Picnic has very little repeat-listening value, and is pure novelty from start to finish. The entire album consists of little more than the psychotic "Sensitive" Seth Putnam warbling ridiculous love songs in a horrible falsetto over guitarist Josh Martin's acoustic strumming, but really, you can't deny the charm. Jams like "I Respect Your Feelings as a Woman and a Human", "Saving Ourselves for Marriage", and "In My Heart There's a Star Named After You" will have you and your special someone swaying in each other's arms well into the evening, while you sip chardonnay by a crackling fire and contemplate the many years of happy marriage ahead of you. Enjoy safely and responsibly!
Following in the footsteps of such classic IllCon favorites as Truthdealer and RXYZYXR, I present today the "Ethno/circus rock" of Finland's own SirCusCus, as volunteered by band member Petri himself. This band actually reminds me a lot of the aforementioned Truthdealer in regards to the punked-up thrash riffing and semi-belligerent vocals, but besides that it's pretty hard for me to really pin their sound down. Hmmm...
In Petri's own words: "How does it sound like and is it worthy of listening ? Well, it's like Melvins, Deep Turtle, Mr. Bungle and Nomeansno put into a pinjata and beaten into a bloody pulp by a bunch of violent 3-year olds. 10 songs and 20 minutes of children's songs for the hardcore kids." Pretty much, although I hear a whole lot of Finnish circus-polka seeping through the cracks, too. And not "circus" in a Burner/juggler/stiltwalker/Gogol Bordello way, more in a "the clowns are taking acid and mainlining Black Flag" kind of way. I've actually been bumping this EP quite a bit for the last week or so. I suggest you do the same.
Everyone remember back in May, when IllCon got "Repossessed" by our good Bro The Goodkind's "Blair Week" project? I do. It was pretty rad, and a good way to pay tribute to one of the horror genre's most underappreciated actresses. Well, Seth is at it again, and today marks the fifth day of "Kotto Week", another tribute to an unsung film hero involving no less than 13 of The Internetosphere's finest film blogs (listed at the end of the post).
(Side note: Calling Yaphet Kotto "unsung" seems like a bit of a misnomer to me, as several blogs have been "singing" him for nigh unto five days now. I think the term "partially sung" might be more appropriate. Mr. Goodkind, please have your agent call mine.)
In keeping with IC tradition, I chose 1986's Gary Busey star vehicle Eye of The Tiger (in which Mr. Kotto plays Busey's ass-kicking sidekick J.B. Devereaux) as the focus for my own particular examination of the forementioned actor's canon, a choice I've come to regret less and less the closer I inspect it. Somehow, I managed to completely neglect mentioning this film when I wrote a comprehensive post about the song "The Eye of The Tiger" (IllCon: The Eye of The Tiger, Part 1), and I'm now kicking myself in the ass for such foolishness. This movie kinda rules.
But before we get started...
5 KOTTO FUN FACTS:
1) Dude was on the short list to play Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation--see proof HERE. Other revelations via Paramount Pictures inter-office memo: short-listers to play Geordi LaForge included Reggie Jackson, Wesley Snipes, and Kevin Peter Hall (better known as the 7-foot-tall guy inside the Predator suit).
2) Dude is 6'4" and Jewish (as if the name wasn't a dead giveaway).
3) Dude shares a name with disbanded Santa Cruz/SF based screamo band Yaphet Kotto. I have been kind enough to upload their 2004 opus We Bury Our Dead Alive...
4) Dude had a short-lived career as a recording artist in the late 60's. I kid you not. Observe:
"Have You Dug His Scene":
"Have You Ever Seen The Blues?":
5) Dude's dad was the fucking crown prince of Cameroon. No joke. The younger Kotto wrote a book about it. It's called The Royalty: A Spiritual Awakening. He also wrote another book called The Second Coming of Christ.
OK cool. ONWARD TO EYE OF THE TIGERRRRR!!!
Exhibit A: "How To Pump Cobras' Nads"
The movie poster itself is a dead giveaway that this movie is going to put its foot up your ass. Unfortunately it was re-released on DVD recently...
Exhibit B: "The Polished Turd"
What is this, 3 Fast 3 Furious? Fuck off, MGM DVD.
First things first: YES, Eye of The Tiger starts off with a sweet "suiting-up" scene set to Survivor's epic jam of the same name. All is as it should be right off the bat, and Busey quickly establishes himself as the quintessential badass-with-a-heart-of-gold from the depths of his prison cell. We soon learn that he is set to be released forthwith to return to his vaguely Laura Dern-esque wife and loving daughter in Small Town America, and the plot quickly comes together as sort of an 80's mash-up of Road House, Tiger Warsaw, Walking Tall, and Next of Kin (it is not just a strange coincidence that 3 out of the 4 movies I just referenced were Swayze vehicles. Approximately 75% of my film knowledge is comprised of films starring and/or co-starring Patrick Swayze. Fuck off.).
Before I get too carried away talking about this movie, though, I should establish one thing: we're here to talk about Yaphet Kotto today, but Eye of The Tiger is Busey's show, first and foremost. This film was produced to showcase the man's prowess as both a romantic and "action" lead, and was meant to rocket his career to Swayze-esque heights of superstardom. In a totally unrelated side note, Imdb reports that Eye of The Tiger grossed a grand total of $9,177 at the box office. Ahem.
I DO COCAINE! CH-CH-YEAH-AH!
Okay, so the crotchgrab screengrab isn't actually Busey or Kotto, it's "Jaime", Busey (I'm sorry, "Buck Matthews")'s cellmate at the beginning of the film. Jaime is kind of like a cross between Tony Montana and Jesus from The Big Lebowski, and when he promises Buck a favor later in the film you just KNOW it's gonna be something cool. In fact, Jaime is one of the highlights of the film. Along with this guy:
He's the "bad guy", leader of the biker gang terrorizing Buck's town and the only one among them apparently allowed to wear anything besides a green khaki pantsuit and black helmet. These bikers are effing DICKS, man. Not only do they kill Buck Matthews' wife and kidnap his daughter, but they crank up their bikes and disrupt town meetings constantly! Major noise issues!
There is, in fact, no shortage of "bad guys" in this movie, from the lead biker's tough guy/right hand man (I don't know the actor's name but he reminds me of Leonard Smalls from Raising Arizona) to the cigar-chewing, Hawaiian shirt-wearing Sherriff (who was played by a guy named Seymour Cassel, shown at left, although I was several beers deep and enjoyed his character a bit more by imagining he was Rip Taylor). Pretty much everyone in this movie is either a totally pussy or a total asshole, and as the orifices pile up, so does the awesome 80's psuedo-tension.
Actually, the only two characters who aren't pussies or assholes are Busey and Kotto, and by the last 20 minutes of the movie they are both flaunting the fact openly to one of the cheesiest Casiotone film soundtracks I've ever heard (and that's saying something). I mean, shit, through all the laughably bad pyrotechnics, terrible dialogue ("You made a big mistake Matthews! Never scratch dry shit!"? Did I hear that right?), and confused racial issues between Yaphet Kotto and Rip Taylor, this is really a pretty killer buddy-action flick, on par (at least) with other classics of the genre such as 1997's Van Damme/Rodman vehicle Double Team or maybe that one movie with that one guy from Iron Chef.
I dunno, I guess Eye of The Tiger starts to drag a bit in the middle, but between the awesome action sequences involving Buck's kick ass Dodge Ram pickup (a gift from the aforementioned Jaime), fleeting similarities to other ass-kickers like Death Wish or The A-Team (TV show, duh), an awesome fucking decapitation scene, and an anal-rape-with-a-stick-of-dynamite scene (yep), this movie is totally redeemed by its final sequence (which is pretty brutal as well). Maybe I'm just a sucker for crap cinema, but Eye of The Tiger seems like a perfectly worthy and altogether respectable entry into the Kotto Kollection.
WITNESS THE DRAMA:
Confusing-ass words to live by right there: "You know, it don't matter how we wish things were. It matters how we deal with how they are!" (???)
The verdict: Gary Busey decapitates a biker and butt-rapes another one with a stick of dynamite. Yaphet Kotto flies a plane. FUCKIN SUPER EPIC!
SPOILER ALERT! This is the best scene in the movie, even though it's pretty anticlimactic when the dynamite doesn't blow. Note how Busey applies vaseline to the dynamite before he shoves it up the biker's ass. What a guy!
So entrenched are these extraterrestrial menaces in our culture and collective subconcious, so accepted by media and society, that it's difficult to see them for what they truly are anymore: freaks, mutants, outsiders... A threat to our very well-being as a nation. What's next, Grey pride parades? Grey marriage? One shudders to imagine how the liberal, Jew-run media will skew their story next. That's why I find the story of the Dulce Wars so uplifting and inspirational.
I first learned about the Dulce Base under Archuleta Mesa in New Mexico, like I have so many other things, from the obscure back-chapters of a David Icke book (namely Children of the Matrix) somewhat recently, and the more I learn the more astonished I am. I mean, it's pretty stunning news to find out that the CIA is running secret genetic-mutation experiments in an underground complex in New Mexico in co-operation with a massive legion of Greys (who are in turn merely slaves for the Alpha Draconion reptoid overlords). It's like, FUCK, why didn't someone tell me about this earlier?
But this isn't the story of human-alien co-operation. This is the story of the Dulce Wars, what happened when shit went totally nuts between us and the Greys a mile underground.
(no caption needed)
When discussing the topic of the alleged alien/CIA covert underground base at Archuleta Mesa/Dulce, the testimony and reporting of three guys must be considered first and foremost. This link at aliens.monstrous.com will fill you in on the stories of Paul Bennewitz, Thomas Edwin Castello, and Phil Schneider, and I've included the opening sections of each of their three stories below.
Firstly, Paul Bennewitz:
"Paul Bennewitz, a physicist in Albuquerque and a UFO researcher affiliated with APRO (Aerial Phenomena Research Organization), traveled to Dulce in 1977 to investigate reports of cattle being mutilated on the ranch of Edmound Gomez. He became friends with the local law enforcement official in the area of the Jicarilla Indian Reservation, Gabe Valdez, and the two investigated the mutilations and also some mysterious lights reportedly seen over Archuleta Mesa...
Bennewitz along with Dr. Leo Sprinkle then studied the case of Myrna Hansen who said under hypnosis that she had been abducted by the aliens and taken to a secret underground base where they saw the cattle being mutilated and drained of their blood and vats containing human body parts. Implants were placed in the bodies of her and her son and that the aliens could control their minds through these devices. Bennewitz began filming the strange lights he was seeing over Manzano. He also built a complex electronic surveillance equipment network to receive low-frequency electromagnetic transmissions that he believed came from the alien craft. Bennewitz had several contacts with Air Force Officials that he tried to warn about the threat represented by aliens against the Manzano Weapons Storage Area. The year after, Bennewitz wrote a computer program that he claimed could translate the alien radio transmissions. He now came to believe that he was intercepting the messages that the aliens were transmitting to mind-control devices such as those that Myrna Hansen claimed had been placed in her and her son...
Bennewitz told Thomas Moore, the famous ufologist, that the alien transmissions he had received indicated that the grays, who he said were responsible for cattle mutilations and the abductions of humans, were building a secret underground base beneath Archuleta Peak on the Jicarillo Indian Reservation near Dulce, New Mexico with the help of the US Government.
When he said in a final burst of paranoia that aliens were coming through the wall of his house to inject him chemicals, it was time to send him to the Hospital. The story says that he has recovered but refuse to deal with the subject of UFOs..."
So Bennewitz was the first to truly bring the Dulce phenomenon to the public eye. But it was our second informant that really expanded the scope of the hideous mutant hybridization experiments that were taking place within.
(Again, from aliens.monstrous.com) Thomas E. Castello:
"There was other testimony, from a mysterious man named Thomas Edwin Castello, who claimed to be a former security technician, employed by the Rand Corporation, at the Dulce underground facility. However, Castello has only provided stories, nothing solid, and has yet to come forward in person. There is some doubt as to whether he actually exists. He allegedly stole a set of controversial papers called the "Dulce Papers," along with over 30 black and white photos and a video tape.
Castello reported that the Dows [Greys], the Dracos [Reptiloids], and the Ciakars are working there hand in hand with over 18,000 short "greys" living the Dulce Facility. A colleague had come face-to-face with a 6-foot tall Reptoid which had materialized in his house. The Reptoid showed an interest in research maps of New Mexico and Colorado which were on the wall. The maps were full of colored push-pins and markers to indicate sites of animal mutilations, caverns, locations of high UFO activity, repeated flight paths, abduction sites, ancient ruins, and suspected alien underground bases.
The multi-level facility at Dulce is reported to have a central HUB which is controlled by base security. The security level goes up as one descends to lower levels. Thomas had an ULTRA-7 clearance. He knew of seven sub-levels, but there may have been more. Most of the aliens supposedly are on levels 5, 6 and 7 with alien housing on level 5. The only sign in English was over the tube shuttle station hallway which read 'to Los Alamos'."
A valuable resource in learning about underground alien bases in general is The Dulce Wars: Underground Alien Bases and the Battle for Planet Earth by the mysterious author "Branton" (above--featuring an introduction from our buddy Commander X!). Featuring extensive interviews with the equally-mysterious Castello, Branton's book sheds light on connections between the corporate/CIA machine and the Greys, showing that it's all basically a big apparatus to put the New World Order in place. Good times. But as the title suggests, the focus here is also on the infamous "Dulce Wars", in which 66 brave Black Berets, Black Ops workers, scientists, and Secret Servicemen allegedy lost their lives.
Boring and useless video explaining the floorplan at Dulce Base:
WAIT A MINUTE! These fucking nutjobs (myself included) believe that space aliens from Zeta Reticula, Alpha Draconis, et al. are working with our VERY OWN BELOVED government to create part-cow flipper-babies to somehow further the NWO agenda?!?!?! That's ludicrous! That's impossible! It's.... TOTALLY TRUE!
For your consideration: Bone Clones is a fascinating online-and-hard-copy osteological catalog containing hordes of medical and scientific bone reconstructions. I've spent hours poring over their collections of highly-accurate skull and skeleton replicas, but as far as I can tell, their "alien grey" cranium (right) is the only "completely made up" piece available. Highly suspicious.
According to Castello, this is the basic layout of the cavernous Dulce complex. That may or may not be his pointy-stick in the top right corner.
More from the testimony of Thomas E. Castello, again taken from aliens.monstrous.com:
"Level 1 contains the garage for street maintenance. Level 2 contains the garage for trains, shuttles, tunnel-boring machines and disc maintenance. The studies on Level 4 include human-aura research, as well as all aspects of telepathy, hypnosis, and dreams. Thomas says that they know how to separate the bioplasmic body from the physical body to place an "alien entity" life-force-matrix within a human body after removing the "soul" lifeforce-matrix of the human.
Level 6 is privately called "Nightmare Hall." It holds the genetic labs, where experiments are done on fish, seals, birds, and mice that are vastly altered from their original form. There are multi-armed and multi-legged humans and several cages (and vats) of humanoid bat-like creatures as tall as 7-feet. The aliens have taught the humans a lot about genetics; things both useful and dangerous.
At Level 7, Thomas encountered humans in cages. Row after row of thousands of humans, human-mixture remains, and embryos of humanoids were kept in cold storage. He says, "I frequently encountered humans in cages, usually dazed or drugged, but sometimes they cried and begged for help. We were told they were hopelessly insane, and involved in high-risk drug tests to cure insanity. We were told to never speak to them at all. At the beginning we believed that story. Finally in 1978 a small group of workers discovered the truth. That began the Dulce wars."
Castello "disappeared" shortly after coming forward with this information.
Leaked images from "Nightmare Hall", courtesy of our old friends Cyrax and Flyrax (MUST SEE!):
More C&F on the subject of the Dulce shootout:
But wasn't this post supposed to be about some kind of "war" or something? What gives, Cobras? You dick.
Well, all of this cryptic information has been leading up to the spectacular tale of one Phil Schneider, whose story (again plagiarized from aliens.monstrous.com) begins as such:
"Yet more testimony came from a man named Phil Schneider, an engineer who claimed to have discovered the alien base accidentally. Schneider is said to have committed suicide, but others claim he was found with either (1) piano wire, or (2) rubber catheter hose, wrapped around his throat, which indicate that he was murdered, ostensibly to silence him."
Schneider claimed to be one of only three survivors of the Dulce Wars, a horrendous massacre between the Greys and US Black Ops Military that occured in 1979. Accounts differ, but this "war" apparently broke out when either A) A governement worker stumbled accross the previously-hidden genetic experiments of the Greys in Nightmare Hall, causing an immediate firefight and massive casualties or B) A government worker entered some sort of Grey-held security area holding a firearm (strictly forbidden), causing an immediate firefight and massive casualties. Either way, the results were identical: MASSIVE CASUALTIES. The Greys got some of our guys (66, according to The Internet), but we got a couple of those fuckers too--in fact, Mr. Schneider claimed to have killed two Greys himself. Even when faced with the prospect of assassination and public humilation, Schneider, maimed from the alien lazer battle (he was missing a couple fingers and had extensive scarring on his torso), still chose to soldier on and tell his story. What a Bro.
Yeah sure, the haters can hate and the doubters can doubt, but HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN THIS IMAGE?!?!?:
no seriously, how do you explain it?
The further you follow the Dulce Wars story down the rabbit hole, the more the storylines tie together. Hollow Earth... Biometrics... Reptilians... It's all there. But are these conspiracy theories in fact constructed to make sense of a world whose infinite mysteries could never possibly be comprehended by a human mind? Are these strange tales just the grappling of man's intellect with dark forces beyond our perception, an attempt at categorizing and compartmentalizing disparate elements into one cohesive, linear story? Could it be that we are so terrified of our own freedom, our own unlimited potential, that human nature teaches us all to build these imaginary prisons around ourselves?
The answer: No. Of course not, don't be a jackass.
Whatever the case may be, two things are 100%, absolutely, positively SURE: 1) Aliens are among us and B) An elite force of Black Ops agents fought an intensely bloody lazer-and-machine-gun battle with them in a secret underground facility in the New Mexican desert back in 1979. Life was lost, human and otherwise, and even though human-alien relations have healed since, we must always remember the lessons we learned at Archuleta Mesa. Greys are not to be trusted. They are dicks. We should shoot them with guns.
I even thought up a catchy new slogan to shout at the Greys: "E.T. GO HOME! E.T. GO HOME! E.T. GO HOME!" (repeat ad nauseum)
This guy fucking cracks me up:
Where do these Greys get off? Who the fuck do they think they are, and why the smug attitude? Easy! It's BECAUSE OUR GOVERNMENT SIGNED A TREATY WITH THE FUCKERS. Seriously, the Bavarian Illuminati signed a treaty with the Greys in 1933, followed by another treaty between the US Governemnt (same thing, really) and the Greys (known as the Greada Treaty) in 1954. These Greys think they have the same rights as the rest of us God-fearing American citizens! Their excuse is that Government promised them such things! Hell no! To quote Branton in Dulce Wars: "It's AS IF these green-blooded, pencil-necked, melon-headed, blood-sucking parasites - who break treaties, violate human will, permanently abduct and even kill humans for scientific or sustenance purposes, lie and deceive, disregard non-intervention ethics, destroy animals and property, manipulate the thoughts of the masses and their leaders against their conscious knowledge, ruin human lives on mental-emotional-physical levels, and literally 'feed' off of human LIFE including that of our children - have ANY place to give such excuses!"
Seriously, guys?
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