Pere Ubu
Dub Housing
The radio is on and a majestic sound splurts from the rhythmic vibrations of my speakers and seeps through the pours of my skin. David Thomas rants almost incomprehensibly in a muffled plea for attention. Thump thump thump… to my left I look over to see Socrates looking resplendent as he lies back tranquilly on the turquoise leather, sofa gorged from the feast (Loin of Venison Wellington with Carrot and Cardamon Mousse, Honey Turnip and Juniper Berry Sauce). Socrates Interjects “But what is x in itself Protagoras?”
“Having an x or being an x”
I think, ‘boy that’s all swell, boy that’s all swell.’
“But these are all fine examples of x, I want to grasp the essence of Xness; I want to know what x is in itself”
“Perhaps knowing a moment; perhaps standing on the edge of existence, perceiving the minds I”
“Bogus Bunkum!!!!” I have desire, I have desire…
Thump thump thump… the day begins to break, a muffled drums begins to sound, a crowd begins to gather in the square. The presence of the hangman in his terrifying mask weighs heavy on the minds of all those there. The rope round his neck, the door drops and the boys neck snaps with a horrifying CRACK. He cums three times on impact, ecstatic joy written across his face. I’ve got these arms and legs, flip flap flip…. the hangman sees his victim and the blood drains from his face as he views his brother’s mother’s son. Flippy flippy flap…
Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!!... the crowd chant in unison; Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Oh please forgive me God, I thought, we hang him in thy name… thump thump thump.
The music stops to the resounding question: what do you do with a drunken sailor? Oh how industrial… Oh how all post punk should sound!
“Having an x or being an x”
I think, ‘boy that’s all swell, boy that’s all swell.’
“But these are all fine examples of x, I want to grasp the essence of Xness; I want to know what x is in itself”
“Perhaps knowing a moment; perhaps standing on the edge of existence, perceiving the minds I”
“Bogus Bunkum!!!!” I have desire, I have desire…
Thump thump thump… the day begins to break, a muffled drums begins to sound, a crowd begins to gather in the square. The presence of the hangman in his terrifying mask weighs heavy on the minds of all those there. The rope round his neck, the door drops and the boys neck snaps with a horrifying CRACK. He cums three times on impact, ecstatic joy written across his face. I’ve got these arms and legs, flip flap flip…. the hangman sees his victim and the blood drains from his face as he views his brother’s mother’s son. Flippy flippy flap…
Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!!... the crowd chant in unison; Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Gruppeknaald!! Oh please forgive me God, I thought, we hang him in thy name… thump thump thump.
The music stops to the resounding question: what do you do with a drunken sailor? Oh how industrial… Oh how all post punk should sound!
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