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Choke .​.​.​A Love Letter

by Another Dead Weirdo

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©ough©ool The music, my god man, dimensions of FX & instrumentation layered on top of one another, walls of sounds... yet, it all fits. Over the top by nature, but not over the top musically. A solid psychedelic noise release.
Dude's vox are impressive, @ times it sounds like Jello Biafra, then others, Porl King, but then Brandon Boyd of Incubus throws some r&b melodies into the mix, even some Hendrix-esque moments🤩. Quite impressive skills all around on display Favorite track: Removing Tendons (Choke's Mix).
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1.
Garbage Man 03:24
Smile for the camera, shake the right hands do all the things that a garbage can. Your narcissistic whinging betrays fascist tropes as you do the kind of shit that smothers all hope. Take like it's breathing and hate like it's fun. Leave a trail of tears and smoking guns. Step over the bodies like they're props on your show. Where's it gonna stop? Nobody knows! You get off on the fact that nobody believes you. You'd bail but the corner you're painted in feeds you. With every word you seethe desperation; it's not even enough to have a whole hostage nation. There will never be a world that's better with you in it. The death rattle of your generation's near finished. A sentient brain-damaged ego sob-screaming and pledging allegiance to losing it completely. You've never once implied that you're a human being. You're not a man; you're a projection screen. Not a single honest John is complicit in your con; just feral oligarchs and their hateful qultist cogs. They handed you the keys to go and do them proud never quite believing that you'd burn it to the ground. You can turn the whole planet into a roiling hell and still get to die in a comfortable cell.
2.
The end is near; you won't survive. Your path is clear; it's lit with lies. Your hate is empty; your heart is black and what you've given up you won't get back. Fear becomes you. Your faith a monster with many heads; it eats your children to praise your dead. Your horn of plenty, just plenty wrong. And you were always empty, all along. Fear becomes you. Your monstrous shadow stands erect gripping tight the wrongs you won't correct. Your hollow victory, a victory still. You sleep like a baby and always will. Fear becomes you.
3.
The internet was supposed to bring us Utopian specialized communities an information super highway of neuro-lingual electrical unity. But instead we've become infected with specialized niche realities. Micro-pockets of denial, algorithmically pre-determined to assault and deceive our faculties. This was supposed to be the future and the future was supposed to be magical, but the present less predicted has turned out decidedly irascible. The monsters we've technologically disturbed are of a class usually pinned on Pandora but as we all know the black mirror has shown us we're just naturally this abhorrent. Are you exacerbated by the sheer number who vote against their own self interest? Then you won't believe how many vote to blow up the fucking planet! Isn't just fantastic? We all get our own hand basket! And if I should sleep perchance to dream. In that dream what do you see? I see a future with automated cars and Washington beneath the sea. The West Virginia skyline is dotted with mountain top mansions while the have-nots squabble violently over expired rations. And good news! We've finally terraformed and colonized Mars! But this is embarrassing, because you get to stay right where you are. The one percent, more brazen than ever, simply take now in plain view. They are, after all, the anointed and chosen few. In other words; exactly like now only more as we have long passed the Rubicon of evening the score. And goddamn, man, wouldn't you know? There's no dollar value on an I told you so. Isn't it just fantastic? We all get our own hand basket.
4.
Come the storm clouds, come the howling winds. They form a vortex to pull it all in. The rain drops fall in sweeping sheets a rolling deluge to wipe it all clean. Through the wailing we hear teeth gnash and a God in mourning for his broken contract. They feign indignant like they didn't know to heed the bearers of his rainbow. I know you didn't hear me then I wonder if you hear me now. Tell me if you're listening or am I just wasting breath on whoever you are today whatever you are right now or will you just pretend that none of this was real the minute that I turn around? Pretend that you were ignorant even when I showed you evidence. Pretend that you were innocent even when you cheered for death for anyone who begged for help anyone who sought your aid point your bloody finger at whom you hold accountable even as you walk away.
5.
6.
7.
Choke 04:15
What's the difference between consent and coercion when choice is a burden you'd rather not bear? What's the difference between lies and delusion when feigning confusion also gets you there? What's the difference between your faiths when they all clearly lead to a terrorist state? No difference 'tween obstruction and hate when it lands in the same place; end of debate. CHOKE on your human pets/on your lies/for the love of God just fuck off and die. CHOKE on your shit ideas/on your fascist views/everyone would be so much better off without you. CHOKE on your childish threats/and your gilded life/on your atrophied eisoptrophobic mind. CHOKE on your hateful kids/with no fond adieu/everyone will be so much better off without you. I'm inclined to think you buy your own bullshit which is tailored to fools. Don't you think that's sad? A senile animal on 5 different leashes, a husk that's belief-less. Don't you think that's sad? When the smoke clears you'll just be broker, a trans-global joke, yeah. Don't you think that's sad? Goddamn, man. What a disaster; no allies, just masters. That's so fucking sad.
8.
A perfect maelstrom has been building for everything to fail right into place. When the dust settled after the chaos the disciples of Pilate had won the race. Rabidly now they lord over revenge well in their grasp. The suffering will pay for suffering still as the monsters openly retire their masks. They line the coliseum frenzied at the smell of death. The gods demand a sacrifice and they'll gladly comply until there's none of us left. To them it's theater. Just theater. A theater of cruelty.

about

Choke ...A Love Letter is a heart-felt condemnation of the worst human being to occupy the White House in modern memory. More petty than Nixon, and far stupider than W, Donald J Trump is lizard-brained sentient pile of rotting toad rectums. But he's not alone. There are the vapid monstrosities who voted him into office, the feral keyboard nazis who cheered him on, the old guard vampires in the Republican party who played defense while he raped the country, even the neoliberal corporate vanguard in the democratic party who somehow managed to lose the working class to the party who wants to eliminate the minimum wage.

Yes, they're all here, and they're all awful. Choke on these votes you racist, narcissistic travesty of genetic combination.

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released November 4, 2020

All words and music Asellus Claudum.
Stems available upon request.

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Asellus Claudum Virginia

Asellus Claudum is a writer, composer, and pursuer of quixotic endeavors. He is married and has a cat. A gender-queer autistic dude of many paradoxes, he values conceptual continuity above most things, however since seeing his first Faith No More video at age 6, the very concept of genre only enrages him.

He once made John DiMaggio laugh so he feels like he's given something back to the universe.
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