The Metaphysics of Everything

I don't want you to worry too much, I'm not a nudist. And even if I were, it couldn't be that bad...actually just for the sake of argument, let's pretend I am a nudist.

Hello, World. My name is Zach, and I am a nudist.

Since I'm a nudist, I think it's important to address a fundamental question: what do you, my friend, Zachary, have to share with us, besides your penis?

Ah.

Well.

I'm really nothing too important, but I want exude importance anyway, sort of like a hypocrite only this is the internet. I love intellectualism, poetry, coffee, refrigeration, silly string, anything that has meaning beyond its facade, the encasing. The clothing.

To say the least, the only thing that should matter are these hidden types of things. It's a metaphysics of everything. A dusting off, just to know in a few weeks, the dust will come back, to ruin your fucking day.

By now, I've basically given it away, I want to use this internets as a way to discuss my feelings about music, which is something I love to an almost unhealthy, illegal, heartless, ungodly, mispellingsful extent. It's pretty awesome, being the first one to think of writing a blog about music.

I hate sarcasm, but more importantly, I hate knowing that I'm not really being original. So let's clarify.

I hope to give you, dearest reader, a little glimpse into my world, the nothingness of underground music, metal, hardcore, independent rock, or whatever I think "underground" means. Actually it means "beneath the surface of the Earth" (Merrian Webster Online, p. 11,225,772,441). So I'll just use that meaning. It has to have been recorded in the Earth's Crust. Then I'll talk about it.

Those of you who are reading this (and those who aren't...I'm not racist), who do know something about modern heavy metal music already, may be curious as to know what of it I like. See, metal is a horrible horrible genre for nice people. If you like something, there will always be some dude who thinks you're a pussy for liking it. And if you're really nice, you won't have the scrotal tissue to respond, "Hey, why don't you remove that giant stick from your asshole which is obviously making you grumpy." I know I wouldn't.

So if you're wondering about my bias, how I feel about the "scenes", "emo", Job for a Cowboy, deathcore, et cetera et cetera, just wait. Just, just stop. I'm sure I don't care. It's music. Listen to it, and shut the fuck up. Not even sneezing.

But seriously you'll know the answer to all that at some point regardless. I tend to be loquacious. And kind of annoying.

But see, that doesn't matter. Rejoice.

I love you.

iTunes Last Played:

Converge, Between the Buried and Me, The Black Dahlia Murder, And Hell Followed With, Have Heart, Despised Icon, Terror, Veil of Maya, that weird Winds of Plague, xAFBx, Loyal to the Grave split, Black My Heart, Stick to Your Guns, Blood for Blood, Mastodon, Protest the Hero, Oh, Sleeper, August Burns Red. Thank you.