1987 marked something of a cultural rebirth. Freed from the dysfunctional apron-strings of provincial prevarication, 4 years of architecture school had summoned me to London. It’s filthy streets, were far from paved with gold, but the airwaves on the other hand, resounded to the sturm und drang of METAL! Continue reading
‘Red Wall’ – Mike Coles
The Wait, agonising, the Tension, unbearable, ley-lines dance to The Hum, the Harlequin again in the ascendency, the Darkness Before Dawn signalling time to cross the Rubicon – heed The Calling… Since Money Is Not Our God, the Mathematics Of Chaos usher in the Aeon of Maat, forever vanquishing the Dark Forces… Collectively This Tribal Antidote shall Honour The Fire, our supersynthesis In Cythera, heralding the Dawn Of The Hive…
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