Faithful vermin, though I do not need or care for your forgiveness, I am not entirely loath to apologizing for my long, cold absence. I've been spending my nights carving a righteous path through the cemetery, jamming the trailblazers and tunnel-diggers of our common pleasure, and thinking, with stony hilarity, of my ever-attentive and lately neglected supplicants. What's ponderous, though, is how you all keep coming maugre my inconsistency. I suppose it's because you're still happily struggling through all the canonized refuse, trying to decipher that forsaken ephemera. Even still, the numbers are climbing. People have become hip to what's happening here at the Dower. All of you once roamed through those vast and brightly illumined halls of the internet but only the most inquiring andeager souls descend to these depths, where is found the Pandemonium of Refuse. But a few days ago, weeks after my last post, I had over 900 views. Tell me: how can that be?
It's not for the writing. I'd like to think so but come on. Most of you are probably Russian teenagers who see this fucking poetry like I see all of the teen Russian blogs I visit: - for Metal! - just a bunch of backwards Rs and things that appear as letters but have no meaning. So, then, it must be for those records that you can't find anywhere else.
Records like this one . . .