Circle 9, where to begin.

Firstly, any categorization of music made by Americans in the early third millennium, the concept of “millennium” itself an arbitrary waste of language used by the simple minded to wrap their feeble brains around the undeniably and unforgivingly endless march of predatory time, fails to take into account the trajectory of human existence on a global scale.

You see, the human need to label and thus grasp at an understanding of a notion unknown is the first step to enlightenment and the first leap into an epic oblivious abyss much like a mind in lockdown for fear of learning opportunities unleashed cataclysmically through lecherous epitaphs written but unspoken by mindless zomboid caricatures of the truth, much less the truth itself. A vortex erupts. In this fissure pain and pleasure intermingle wickedly. With malice aforethought do torture and ecstasy embrace. They birth the Lord, our Lord, the Lord of Rock, unbeknownst to him, her, or itself. Scream to the rafters with bloody heart and fractured ears.

Circle 9’s a-comin’, slouching towards hypocrisy.