apt-get's journal

Today was quite pleasant until about 4:30PM. Having ran out of hot cocoa to add to my coffee (yes, I'm that kind of degenerate), I proceeded to try and open a new box. Without scissors.

My God, is that stuff volatile and does it get everywhere. A cloud of hot cocoa powder formed in my kitchen, spreading its chocolatey dust all over the place. My apartment is gonna smell like hot cocoa for the next few months.

After spending an hour cleaning up, I proceeded to nap for four or five hours in frustration, ending what began as a quite productive Friday.

Today's tune: Sub-69 - I HATE BIORE (Body Soap), an invigorating rave gabba track. It's retro, it's good. Listen to it. Like a knock-out punch to the cochlea, the harsh, distorted sound is clouding your mind, clocking in a coked-up cadence of kicks that were never meant to be enjoyable to a vertebrate's ears. Yet here we are, led astray by the perfectly aligned four-four beat (also known as the sequence of Satan), enamored by electro-acoustic entities that distill noise into its purest harmonics. What is sound synthesis but our species' most successful attempt at summoning memetic hazards, what our ancestors feared and tried to exorcize in vain: yes, daemons?