“We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse;”

“Waves crash down, unrelenting, unending. We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse; colossal mountain ranges eroded to jagged shorelines; aged cliff tops, decrepit and helpless; earthen cadavers now ripe for mining to the very core of our souls. Or so we would have you think. Magic is willpower. Willpower is magic. Self-knowledge is the key to the perfect control of the will. After destroying the decades of our youth, after being crushed under the pillars of heaven–the bonds we make and the bonds we break ever come crashing down.”

Thou, “By Endurance We Conquer” from the album Summit

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Ah, that’s beautiful… We got a lot of little teenage blue eyed groupies who do anything we say…

Title from Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show“The Cover of ‘Rolling Stone'”

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I want to start a one man “band” making loud, angry, destructive heavy music. This is going to be quite a process:

1.))) Dust off my guitar and start jamming.
2.))) Dust off Stacy’s old keyboard, and our Grandpa’s fucking bad-ass electric organ, and relearn how to rock out on keys.
3.))) Procure a drum set and start banging on shit, freaking out like Animal and generally annoying everybody into submission.
4.))) Soundproof the basement (just kidding, sister…)
5.))) Record a shitty demo, transfer it to tape, and hang out in front of record stores in a crust punk jacket begging for donations.
6.))) Talk to anyone who will listen about all my plans when we get our big break, man. We’ll be on tour overseas with Sleep and you’ll still be stuck here baking your fuckin’ homemade gluten free scones, bro…

All this seems very involved, so I better start slow and just focus on settling on a band name for now. Uterine Betrayal and Death Stench Creeps are both already taken…

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Musings on a Wednesday: Randomness and Observations

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– There’s nothing like the smell of wet cow ass in the morning. It smells like…well, like wet cow ass.

– Must be a leak over my bunk when it rains heavy, because I slept in a wet spot that I am 98% sure I didn’t make. Okay….82% sure.

– Is it oxymoronic to despise someone you’ve just met and otherwise know nothing about, based solely on their apparent association with a hate group? I feel like it kind of is, but I also feel like I’m kind of okay with that.

I don’t have to know a KKK member to think they are a piece of shit.

— Lady Mary

– Getting paid to do a whole lot of nothing for eight hours and then being rained out for the last two make for an easy workday. But an easy workday is not necessarily a “good” workday. Because FUCKING BORING!

– Somebody should start a cell phone service marketed specifically to the oilfield and pipeline that gets decent service out in all these B.F.E. locations. Since it’s for the oilfield and pipeline, they could overcharge like crazy and motherfuckers will pay it. You could make MILLIONS.

– I often consider murder as a preferable alternative to finding ways to coexist with a deplorable person. Then I think, well, that isn’t very Buddhist of me. Then, I double check which direction the blade on my pocket knife unfolds, in case I need to open it quickly.

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– The worst thing about using a freshly-pumped portable shitter is having the chemical water splash back up from a “projectile” and coat your undercarriage with filth. Well…that’s maybe not the worst thing, but it’s up there…

– So many many things in this world piss me off. You may have noticed. But few things piss me off more than unsubstantiated arrogance and swagger. Perhaps it has something to do with the apparent “fact” that those who actually have something to be cocky about generally are conversely humble and gracious. The motherfuckers that strut and cackle usually don’t have shit to back it up. Usually.

I will not do what the tick tells me to…
… I will not do what the tick tells me to…
… I will not do what the tick tells me to…
…I will not…….

— The Ryan

– Some days, when a person or situation disrupts my delicate sensibilities to the extent that the Others take over before I can practice “letting go,” I end up in a downward spiraling snowball of scorn and loathing that grows to consume the entirety of my consciousness to the point that I can only see the destruction of all existence as a solution. I feel only hatred. I can no longer see through my own perspective and headspace to determine if this is simply a byproduct of my sickness, if my anger and sense of apocalyptic hatred is just and warranted, if anyone or anything even deserves to fucking live, to exist. I say lay waste to the wasted. Be done with it.

Fuck money, fuck friends, fuck family! Fuck pussy, fuck drugs, fuck sanity! I don’t give a shit! Why?! ‘Cuz ignorance is bliss! Right?!

— Flatbush ZOMBiES, “Bliss”

– Sometimes I like pie. But not apple pie. Unless it is green chile apple pie. Seriously, yo…that shit is bomb.

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– No matter who you are, no matter what it is…music fixes everything. At least until the song’s over. Then you might actually have to do something yourself to keep shit fixed. But, fuck that, right?! ;-D

One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain…

— Bob Marley

– The moment I am writing something, it is the most brilliant and insightful thing ever committed to paper. The moment after I write something, I despise it with the fury of one thousand suns. I feel like I am not alone in this.

– I am stuck at the crossing of what is essentially a different version of the same fucking train I spent forty minutes trapped by a couple of weeks ago. I know this because of the graffiti. Or because I only dreamt this before, and now the shit is happening for real. And I have no data connection.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Alan Moore, Rorschach, and the body

the body

the body


“Stood in firelight, sweltering. Bloodstain on chest like map of violent new continent. Felt cleansed. Felt dark planet turn under my feet and knew what cats know that makes them scream like babies in night.

Looked at sky through smoke heavy with human fat and God was not there. The cold, suffocating dark goes on forever and we are alone. Live our lives, lacking anything better to do. Devise reason later. Born from oblivion; bear children, hell-bound as ourselves, go into oblivion. There is nothing else.

Existence is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them or destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us. Streets stank of fire. The void breathed hard on my heart, turning its illusions to ice, shattering them. Was reborn then, free to scrawl own design on this morally blank world.

Was Rorschach.

From Wallpaperup.com

From Wallpaperup.com

Does that answer your Questions, Doctor?”

— Alan MooreWatchmen

There’s more than one way to pleasure the beast…

Image by Bill Smith

Image by Bill Smith


Whilst pursuing various “scholarly endeavors” today, I’ve been listening exclusively to Converge’s entire discography — including splits (no fucking demos, though) — in chronological order. The experience is akin to masturbating furiously and then punching oneself in the dick just before climax, over and over again, with fluctuating intensity. And I mean that in a good way.


Les 3 Meres by David Nebreda

Les 3 Meres by David Nebreda

Of all the DOOM in all the World…

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“…and you had to spin this one…”

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Nothing but fucking nothing helps soothe the gaping, largely self-inflicted wounds of loathing and scornful suffering like this split LP, from two of underground metal’s most leaden and caustic purveyors of DOOM.

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Denver’s PRIMITIVE MAN serve up three blistering, misanthropic tracks of seething, tumultuous rage, while St. Louis’ Fister fill in the flip-side with two suffocating, polar quakes of acidic, cynical torment.

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PRIMITIVE MAN on Bandcamp

This is the essential soundtrack to my descent into madness, and often it is the only thing that brings me back to the surface. I do not say this lightly — this album has kept me from slitting my own fucking throat on more than one occasion.

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GET IT NOW from A389 Records!

Some of us need to be immersed in the darkness to remember why we should bother to seek the light.

Fister on Bandcamp

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Need more hype?? Read on here!

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

All Mike wanted was a Pepsi…

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If ever there was a tale to illustrate the need for widespread reform in how mental illness is handled in our society, it is the story of Mike.  All Mike wanted was a Pepsi. Just ONE Pepsi.

Next thing he knows, poor Mike is locked away in an institution.  Experience a first-hand account of Mike’s trials and tribulations below…

Sometimes I try to do things and it just doesn’t work out the way I want it to.
I get real frustrated and I try hard to do it and I take my time and it doesn’t work out the way I want it to.
It’s like I concentrate real hard and it doesn’t work out.
Everything I do and everything I try never turns out.
It’s like I need time to figure these things out.
But there’s always someone there going,

Hey Mike:
You know we’ve been noticing you’ve been having a lot of problems lately.
You know, maybe you should get away and maybe you should talk about it, maybe you’ll feel a lot better.

And I go:
No it’s okay, you know I’ll figure it out, just leave me alone I’ll figure it out.
You know I’ll just work by myself.

And they go:
Well you know if you want to talk about it I’ll be here you know and you’ll probably feel a lot better if you talk about it.

And I go:
No I don’t want to I’m okay, I’ll figure it out myself and they just keep bugging me and they just keep bugging me and it builds up inside and it builds up inside.

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So you’re gonna be institutionalized
You’ll come out brainwashed with bloodshot eyes
You won’t have any say
They’ll brainwash you until you see their way.

I’m not crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re the one who’s crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re driving me crazy!
(In an institution!)
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy — myself.

I was in my room and I was just like staring at the wall thinking about everything.
But then again I was thinking about nothing.
And then my mom came in and I didn’t even know she was there she called my name.
And I didn’t even hear it, and then she started screaming: MIKE! MIKE!

And I go:
What, what’s the matter?

And she goes:
What’s the matter with you?

I go:
There’s nothing wrong mom.

And she goes:
Don’t tell me that, you’re on drugs!

And I go:
No mom I’m not on drugs I’m okay, I was just thinking you know, why don’t you get me a Pepsi.

And she goes:
NO you’re on drugs!

I go:
Mom I’m okay, I’m just thinking.

She goes:
No you’re not thinking, you’re on drugs! Normal people don’t act that way!

I go:
Mom just give me a Pepsi, please.
All I want is a Pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me!
All I wanted was a Pepsi, just one Pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me!
Just a Pepsi.

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They give you a white shirt with long sleeves
Tied around you’re back, you’re treated like thieves
Drug you up because they’re lazy
It’s too much work to help a crazy.

I’m not crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re the one who’s crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re driving me crazy!
(In an institution!)
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy — myself.

I was sitting in my room and my mom and my dad came in and they pulled up a chair and they sat down, they go:
Mike, we need to talk to you.

And I go:
Okay what’s the matter?

They go:
Me and your mom have been noticing lately that you’ve been having a lot of problems.
You’ve been going off for no reason and we’re afraid you’re gonna hurt somebody.
We’re afraid you’re gonna hurt yourself.
So we decided that it would be in your interest if we put you somewhere.
Where you could get the help that you need.

And I go:
Wait, what are you talking about, we decided!?
My best interest?! How can you know what my best interest is?
How can you say what my best interest is? What are you trying to say, I’m crazy?
When I went to your schools, I went to your churches,
I went to your institutional learning facilities?! So how can you say I’m crazy?

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They say they’re gonna fix my brain
Alleviate my suffering and my pain
But by the time they fix my head
Mentally I’ll be dead.

I’m not crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re the one who’s crazy!
(In an institution!)
You’re driving me crazy!
(In an institution!)
They stuck me in an institution
Said it was the only solution
To give me the needed professional help
To protect me from the enemy — myself.

It doesn’t matter, I’ll probably get hit by a car anyway…

Suicidal Tendencies released their ninth studio album, 13, in March 2013. “Institutionalized” can be heard on their self-titled 1983 debut full-length.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Channeling Pessoa’s Detest In This, A Life Once Lost

This blistering track from deceased metalcore savages A Life Once Lost is, quite literally, what Fernando Pessoa‘s solipsistic musings would sound like if all of his heteronyms grew up listening to Slayer and started a band together. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s how ALOL formed in the first place…

Indeed, much of the band’s lyrical and thematic content, most strikingly on the album Iron Gag, is influenced and informed by Pessoa’s writings.

I have to choose what I detest
Either dreaming, which my mind hates
Or action, which my awareness loathes
I am confused
I sit alone in silence
To focus more on the way that I am living

I am losing you
And this place isn’t comfortable
I retaliate by not speaking
So I guess I will lose

Detesting both, I choose neither
But since I must on occasion
Either dream or act
I mix the two things together

Detest

We survived, but our vinyl and our souls may be worse for the wear…

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Photos from an abandoned record warehouse

In thirty seconds, the blight on the face of underground music known as Record Store Day shall be officially over! Sure, there’s bound to be traces of this horrible, bloody rape-orgy for weeks, even months, to come. And the memories may haunt some forever. But, it’s important to believe that the worst is behind us, at least for another 365 days…

Also, this means that your local record store should be mostly free of douchebags tomorrow! You know…other than the clerks. XD

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Patchouli stink, anyone?

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

the body bleeds immaculate despondency

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Having already laid claims of savage brutality over a swath of lands from Providence to Portland, experimental DOOM sufferers the body are steadily asserting themselves as perhaps the most devastating and uncompromising band in all of music.  The duo recently self-released a hand-crafted five-song EP entitled The Tears of Job to supporters of their “help the body get a van” Indiegogo campaign.

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The EP includes an outstanding cover of Jane’s Addiction‘s “I Would For You” with haunting vocal contributions from frequent collaborator Chrissy Wolpert. It may be the most immaculately despondent thing I have ever heard in my life. If you can find it, go listen to it in a warm, candle-lit bath with a suitcase full of razor blades.

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“You say my eyes are crazy eyes
Well, sometimes they are and so are you
And if you wonder what I would do
I would do anything if I could”

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Out Fucking Standing. Bonus points, the EP’s second track, “Pillar of Lightening” includes a vocal appearance from Full Of Hell psychopath Dylan Walker, what is hopefully a mere glimpse into the fury we can expect from a forthcoming rumored collaboration between the two savage collectives, who also just happen to be forging a trail of desperate scathing across the country together as we speak.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.