maanantai 24. helmikuuta 2014

Being Greedy Is A Full-Time Job.

I've watched some documentaries on greed, propaganda, advertising and politics (they all go together anyway) tonight. What I find interesting is how it all adds up to what I have known before, how it does not expand consciousness, but fills in the blanks. Fills in some rather important blanks, that is. For as long as I've been into psychology, I've seen Freudian approach as a destructive force. I can't see how it could be used to repair people, when all it actually does is shatter everything down to sexuality (Aldous Huxley used to joke about Freudian approach being all about the both ends of the digestive tube and having pretty much nothing in between.) and tell you it's wrong. Of course one can't deny the effect it had in psychological study, but I think compared to Jung, he was WAAAAAY OFF, when it comes to understanding the subconscious of a human being.

And the documentary series The Century of the Self seems to fill this image completely. Since the first world war all the Freudian applications of psychology have had their role in manipulating consumers to believe, that instead of need, they should listen to their desires. Our subconsciousnessess have been pummeled with subliminal, suggestive and hidden messages, meanings and intentions as long as most of us have lived. It has inflicted our politic history everywhere ( I really recommend watching those quite informative four hours of documentaries). Seeing stuff like this makes me mad. I know enough of our recent history and psychology to understand which amount of the information fed to me is exaggerated and which is true.

Advertising is most of the time just plain sick. Especially when it comes to objectifying women. And I'm not going to give you the usual sex appeal rap, although it too has it's place in todays world as well. What disturbs me more is the way women are associated with death in commercials, it seems abnormal, utterly absurd to me. It wakes up my primordial rage reflect, which would make me want to attack every advertising agency on a thousand mile radius, armed with rocks, molotov cocktails and a katana. I know it doesn't sound like something a sensible, humane person would do. But to me, it would seem the most humane act anyone could think of.

Recently the situation in Ukraine has seemed to me at least rather interesting. Of course the sad part is the usual; people get killed, when morons rule. But I am on the people's side on this. After watching the golden tpas in the president's bathroom, personal petting zoos, all that shit, I couldn't help thinking this is exactly what should be going on everywhere, where people face oppression from their authorities. Every state, every government, every parliamentary organ seems to have forgotten, that it has no power, if it has no people. The people are the only thing that constitutes their power, it should be a path of mutual respect, not a master-slave relationship. In this day and age, we don't have time for greed. We don't need people, who think they can take everything in spite of everyone else. Those people are just dead weight. For some reason it seems, that the dead weight seems to stay at the top, and everything else gets thrown out of the burning ship.

sunnuntai 16. helmikuuta 2014

MAKE ROOM EUROPE, WE'RE COMING OVER!

We are excisted to announce the first, short but intense European tour. We'll be circling around Poland and such with a Finnish metal band Skulldriver, and we are quite excited. Here are the dates, if you can help us with one or two more after Prague, drop us a message at cuttofit@windowslive.com .

-20.3  Klub Metro, Gdansk,  Poland
-21.3  Underground Rock Bar, Poznan, Poland
-22.3  Grodzka 42, Krakow, Poland
-23.3  Plan B, Ostrava, Czech Republic
-25.3  Showbarlang, Budapest, Hungary
-26.3  Das Bach, Wien, Austria
-27.3  Exit Chmelnice, Prague,Czech Republic


We haven't been abroad since Obscene Extreme 2010, so we wish to see at least two faces when we finally get there, wherever that may be! We'll eat nothing beut rice for the next six months for this tour, but who gives a shit, we just want to play!

tiistai 11. helmikuuta 2014

Crushing Insects

The mouldy floorboards were covered with cockroaches.
Someone had knocked a half-empty bag of crisps off the counter
And the vermin were enjoying their feast, salt & vinegar
Remains of someones breakfast or lunch or whatever.
The flat was cold, the heating had gone off long ago.
At the far end corner, on a rugged mattress there was a
Shivering, tired ruin of a young man crying.
He did not mind the insects, that were crawling on his floor,
He did not mind the cold, he did not mind the fact
His life had had no meaning in a long while,
He did not even mind the fact that he might be about to die.
Actually, that was the only portion of his life
He seemed to wait anxiously.
Death seemed like an first price on the sucking competition
He called his life. It seemed like every single decision,
Usually a bad one, was leading towards this final culmination point:
Dying in a rented apartment at some suburbia,
With his veins so empty of drugs he could feel the
Cold in his bones. Not on his skin, though.
It seemed like his skin would be on fire, stung with thousands of tiny needles,
Like all the cockraches would be right there under his skin,
Like all the knives in the world would be stored inside his body.
He felt kinda bad, but he could remember one morning worse than this.
Although it seemed distant now, when he was wallowing
In his current ocean of disgust and pain.
It was rare that he could actually remember feeling worse in this sort of state,
But you can understand it feels like the worst hangover ever, when you wake up
Without three of your toes and out of money, food or drugs.
Young man turned around on his side, watched the cockroaches devour his crisps,
But didn't know what to think of it. It had been his last money, but it was yesterday.
This was a new day. A new beginning. A new hell.
He tried to get up, but he couldn't. His body was too weak and the pain was overwhelming.
He made a noise of some sort, it was a long, moany groan, and the cockroaches fleed.
They had learned to avoid his wrath, his leather boots made messy remarks of too slow
Insects on the floor. "Note to the rest: Run faster."
He was sure he would die, he would freeze and starve to death.
But eventually the knives under his skin smoothened their edges,
Sharp pain became blunt pain
And his eyes adjusted to the painful light.
He gathered his strength and rose to his feet, like the first mammal ever to attempt
Walking on two feet, out of balance, disoriented.
He took slow, careful steps and crushed the crisps on the floor.
He got out of the door, in to the small corridor, went to the first floor
And out of the door. He went outside, and saw a homeless guy on a dirty street.
There was graffiti on the nearby wall and the wind was restlessly kicking around
Yesterday's newspaper. He passed the homeless person who was left staring at his back,
He passed the graffiti, he passed the newspaper, he crossed the street and went to a nearby shop.
He stole a Kitkat and ate it as soon as he got out.
It tasted better than anything he had ever eaten before.
He looked down at his shoes. They were almost worn out,
They wouldn't crush insects for long.
He sighed. His life was way too hard to be dealt with right now.
He wanted nothing more than a fix. A justification for his guilt, anything at all.
He felt sick, he felt like he could not live with his self.
He could not live without a fix and couldn't live if he got one.
He'd probably just overdose and get it over with.
Life, when did you become so intolerably miserable, he thought to himself as he
Crawled back into his hell.

maanantai 10. helmikuuta 2014

Existence.

This is an interesting read and I think whole world should pay attention to this.

Although it is not yet confirmed, it is an interesting and at least to me, the most logical explanation of the universe. Though I am not completely sure if they actually DID confirm all this while ago. Anyway. This is exactly what I have always struggled with, my whole life. The question of existence. I have always been terrified by the idea of non-existent eternity that awaits me, and everyone else, yes you too, in a few decades. I wrote the song Existence while I was sitting in commuter train, heading back home after a long day at work, in Cardiff, Wales. Here it is, if you have not heard it:

"These eyes that burn these visions to my soul
Keep engraving golden letters in this piece of coal
Like a needle piercing through the layers of skin
Until there's nothing left but space.
Between every molecule of me,
Between every atom,
Between every particle,
The empty space that we call soul.
The essence of me, that tireless need
the will that burns behind these eyes
that keeps burning these golden letters
into this empty space between my particles.
That is truly to exist
In such many levels simultaneously
and still be uncertain
whether you exist or not."


The point in all this being how fucked up it is to mourn for the upcoming the loss of reality, when you are really not certain about the reality you inhabitat in the first place. It is kind of a "part 1" for The Doors of Deception. My eyes, shape my perception of this state I assume to be the "reality", my senses create this world and I am completely at their mercy. It's nothing but frequencies and resonance, and I only have this set of tools of conversion to make something out of it. Still, even between my every particle, no matter how solid I appear to be, is nothing but empty space. So, what are we really? Tiny vibrations on a cosmic scale, nevertheless always as important as a super nova explosion, since everything appears to be infinately connected with everything. We are all one, in that sense. Different aspects of the same thing, I am still not sure this goes for consciousness too, but maybe animals, who lack the disturbing "I", feel this connection more profoundly, since there are no egoistic distractions, just senses and urges, and some harsh emotional systems.

I'm not sure what I want to say right now, I'm too hungry to think, but I think the next Cut To Fit album may seem even more tripped out than the previous one. We are going to use samples from There Will Be Blood, and the first four songs are dealing with greed. I try to avoid hardcore punk clichés and make something out of it. But of course there will be some bursts of random anger too. You just can't help it, if you have watched a single documentary in the last few years.