Excuse me, freaks, could you spare a moment to talk about our lord and savior …DEATH?  Because, I would like to talk to you all for a brief moment about Death. Obviously, I’m personally obsessed with it; but other than that, so is our society and entire history of our species and basically the world. If you would, I would very much be honored to indulge in conversation about this entity, this state of existence, this cultural phenomenon, humanity’s ultimate scapegoat yet also humanity’s get out of jail free card while simultaneously being the ultimate punishment to some while being the ultimate euphoria to others… Moreover then the latter, however, it is the ultimate control mechanism. Being as nothing  in existence except for Keith Richards is outside the clutches of Death’s blackened tentacles, it’s elevated to the position of the High King in the fear campaign. Since Death will slowly begin it’s everlasting embrace on every breathing organism on the cosmic rock of Earth since the moment of its conception and has been doing so since the dawn of time; as if we make an unwilling and unconscious pact with humanity’s arch nemesis from the moment of our first cell division to first gasp of breath, it becomes the universal fear.  You can simply not experience any part of life without Death. As the law of physics sates and we all know: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every bit of progress life makes, death takes in equal form; it is lurking in the shadows behind the scenes of this whole charade. For every year we live we inch closer and closer in the our friend Death’s eternal realm, where hopefully David Bowie is waiting for us with a fist full of quaaludes and the beyond’s finest bottle of cabernet. Ah, well, that’s what I’m hoping for, anyways. 

We all experience this phenomenon, no questions asked, no exceptions, no one’s on the sidelines and no one’s wheeling or dealing their way out. Even the cheap bastards in the nosebleeds aren’t leaving this show early or even getting too hammered during the opener to  remember the headliner.. we’re all in this from start to finish. You can try to gamble but Death is the omnipotent, flawless, dealer. Lemmy himself even claimed, even with the all ending card of the ace of spades within his possession, “I don’t wanna live forever!!”  Easiest wish ever granted. Goddamn right Lemmy, and it’s goddamn good thing, because you AIN’T ABOUT TO and may your wonderful soul rest in peace). Consequently, none of us our about our timelines may all be various and skewed with some running like an unrelenting D-grade airport romance novelist’s bibliography while others run like a track off of Scum by Napalm Death; the final conclusion will be Death. The story changes but the ending will bore you, so they say. 

SO… What is it about this ever-present, lurking and ominous, Reaper-deity that we crown as Death? I wonder, where exactly among conscience history that it became something to be so feared and so usurped by those in positions of power and understand to be used to control the masses? Yeah, I went there. And it’s gonna get worse, SO… make your coffee (no sugar), crack open that fresh pack of Marlboro Reds (hopefully not they are quite awful for you and will fuel the reaper’s embrace closer to you I’m just using this for dramatic effect please and thank you), reserve your burial plot and begin the financing process if you haven’t already (I wanna be cremated), and let death-obsessed ‘Ol Z lay down a thing or two about a thing our two about his muse.


Church. Oh, shit. Yeah, might as well get this one out in the open. If Death wasn’t coming for us all, would we go to Church? Could “God” even exist? Certainly the Devil, who seemingly serves no other purpose except to facilitate a less than 5-star room for in the after life if you should kill someone or die from coke, hookers, and rock n roll; wouldn’t exist. Therefore, where would religion be without it? For my money, absolutely nowhere. The gold and diamond veins of the Vatican are flowing with the blood of Death’s return investments. We’ll sponsor the immaculate structures to facilitate the cleansing of you sins while guaranteeing you a role in the eternal bliss of heaven along with finest artwork ever seen by human eyes, sure!! All you death-fearing citizens of the world have to do is dedicate YOUR ENTIRE LIFE TO OUR IDEOLOGY AND POLLUTE YOUR BLOODLINE WITH OUR IDEALS FOR GENERATIONS AND CENTURIES… while generously donating, of course!! Oh, and if you’re not of our faith.. we will fucking MURDER you (at least back in the day, and it still goes on). Welcome to the brith of the Catholic church. Or whatever church, maybe. MY POINT IS, it’s been a fucking scam since day fucking one, using Death for not what it truly is, but as a fear campaign. The most successful fear campaign of all time. Let’s sell safety from death and after death, with the threat of death! Seems legit. Death sells.. but who’s buying? Plot twist: EVERYONE. Game over.

Instead of Death being a celebrated, natural, beautiful, and essential part of our existence; its spearheaded with a skull and scythe and beckoning us into eternal flame because WHY? Money, basically. Don’t get me wrong, check out my inventory, I kind of love it. Because, what’s the best way to rebel against those negative connotations enforced upon us since birth of this state of Death? Take their fear propaganda and throw it back in their faces in the form of art and celebration. That’s why horror films, punk rock, heavy metal, devil tattoos, the mot badass clothing of all time Death Comes Lifting, err, whatever it may be, that’s why all those death by-products are so damn fascinating and awesome. There’s a very strong, intimidating, and over all simply cool-ass statement to be made about being “cool” with death. Like bring it, motherfucker… you don’t have me under your thumb. To bring it back around to Mr. Richards. BUT, that’s why metal bands and such celebrating and embedding this fear of death in the form of albums such as Tomb of the Mutilated, or what have you, have such a grand following and generally positive fan base. We embrace and celebrate death, in reality making us closer and bitterly preparing us for our slice of fate, instead of spending our lives afraid of it. Those death fearing church goers are just more afraid than you, and your rotting flesh Slayer t-shirt just pissed in their golden fucking Wheaties. Not here to call anyone out specifically (or maybe kind of I am), there’s certainly two sides to this equation. Just point out the fact that death has become such a victim of hypocrisy and is the most polarizing, fascinating part of our culture and existence. And maybe a little bit how European religion has turned death into something to be feared through propaganda, literature, and art; taking death, hell and darkness, and throw it right under the ‘ol proverbial chariot, and that’s why we put that shit on a t-shirt and make heavy metal. While many other cultures celebrate it as something beautiful like “going home.” Just something to mediate on. ’Til then, we’ll always have the first six Sabbath records. God bless, freaks… back to the crypt.