Hava Tampa Hava Nagila Gila V. Gojira

It is harder to blog on a day like today, with the air whistling out of the sails of what was left of the devil’s music. On the outside, things look rosy, but on the inside, guttywog torn asundah. The music is din, the cogs creaky, and the corporatization complete. The evil rock absorbed, assimilated and absolved, now served like soft yogurt in outlets mainstream mainlining on our sacred manna. So this is love?