Pizza existentialism is real. For millions of people pizza offers them the answer. Years go by as people search for the perfect kind of pizza. They eat pizza alone they eat pizza with friends. Upon practicing the consumption of pizza they one day get it right. Later on they make the first steps to create rather than consume pizza. Such a step indicates movement towards adulthood. When this happens the world improves itself as the pizza eater becomes a pizza creator. The world needs pizza, craves it, and with more pizza makers the world becomes a better place. Extra cheese is a must for any pizza to hold its weight, its crusty sauce drenched weight.
Dog food is like pizza but for dogs. One day man’s best friend - That phrase seems to indicate, somewhat unfairly, that dogs are exclusively for males, that nobody else can enjoy dogs not even cats. Honestly the phrase is way too limited and ought to be abolished. In fact there is no need to further support the phrase “man’s best friend”. Henceforth Beach Sloth shall no longer use that phrase in any way shape or form. For educational purposes the phrase shall be kept, as a reminder, that dogs are everybody’s friend, except Beach Sloth’s. Beach Sloth is not such a fan of dogs they make him afraid and Beach Sloth hopes to one day overcome what he knows to be an irrational fear but since it is irrational it is hard to get rid of. Oh yeah but back to the original idea, dogs will one day enjoy pizza. A lot of ancient civilizations predicted dogs enjoying pizza because those civilizations were kind of ‘hedging their bets’ by predicting lots of things and hoping they’d turn out true.
Romance is a prediction. When any two or three or however many people meet there is that initial joyful tension. People like tension because the tension makes their stomach butterflies flutter harder until they become airborne. Usually people dislike getting butterflies in their stomach. The average person gets precisely three opportunities to use their stomach butterflies to do great things. In fact in the 1930s Charles Lindbergh used his stomach butterflies to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. He claimed it was the airplane’s doing but that was a total lie. It was always about the butterflies. As payback the butterflies later kidnapped Charles Lindbergh’s baby and helped pay for Charles Lindbergh’s baby to attend medical school to become a podiatrist.
Millions of people step on the ground every day and never realize that the song “I believe I can fly” can happen to them. But one day somebody will try it and soar through that open door, someone besides R. Kelly.
Time belongs to humanity. For whatever reason humanity felt the need to label days, months, and seasons. With these names people can mark the slow and steady passage of time from the spring of their youth to the autumn of their final days. People come together because they want to share that passage of time with others to see the red sun before it dies before it is born the next morning. Upon the rising of the sun another workday begins of listening, processing, and filtering out relatively strange pieces of information. Harvest moons come when they is enough for them to gather into a wicker basket and sell on the side of the road.
People transform themselves into birds because they want to take flight. Humanity tries to replicate the natural world with streetlights serving as the night’s sunlit sky. Of course it is nowhere near as good. Geometry tries to define the natural world into easy to digest shapes of triangles circles and rectangles. None of it is ever as easy as the math makes it seem. Things tend to go for the harder to define and the harder to grasp. Entities like God are created in order to make those math wizards bow down before higher powers. Yet there is no higher power than math the great organizer of the universe that makes everything harmonious.
Love tries to balance the unbalanced. Not everybody gets it right. Plenty get it wrong and others hear about it. Individuals enter relationships unequal and hopefully over the course of time the two become far more equal until the balance of power is perfect. Failure to do so leads to the dissolution of the relationship. Later on in life people begin to resemble their surroundings as they fade to black first going into the slow grey until such time as the overwhelming darkness gives them nice shade from relentless lives of sunlight.
Decisions are made in the shade. The decisions are right yet unpopular. Pluto was demoted from being a planet after it was discovered that Russia was bigger than it. However oversized Russia might be if the Earth has a country bigger than an entire planet that planet is seriously weak and is in need of a demotion. With the announcement lots of people were extremely upset, mourning the loss of a dear former planet, regulated to extra big space rock status. The universe makes people feel so small but the knowledge that space does not always make the grade ought to make people happy knowing that space is smaller than they can imagine.
Right in the small world called Earth there is too much information to possibly understand. People demand a big picture and they get one. The rhythm of life lets people march to the beat of their own drummer having fired the different drummer for economic reasons. And the world understands this letting people evolve slowly making sure not to rush anything, hence why humanity feels trapped as its technological progress outpaces everything else happening on a greenish-blue rock in the middle of space.
Sludge, distortion and overall destructive tendencies have decided to enter more dance friendly territory. Shit and Shine’s focus on ultra-repetitive structures makes this less of a shock. Having kept their flagrant disregard they stomp through these pieces inflicting aural violence wherever they can. “Powder Horns” shows how good dance music can be when it goes for the physical. With Shit and Shine’s intense focus on aural assaults in the past they handle the slight shift in stride. In fact a few of the previously released songs hinted at this territory.
“Hiss” begins things by stumbling its way into a groove of sorts, almost as if by accident. From there things became increasingly more and more unsteady. On “Pearl Drop” it is hard to determine if it should be considered a noise or dance track as it neatly conjures up images of Black Dice. For “PG 13” an infectious groove takes over and refuses to let go no matter what is thrown in its way. Pure distortion defines the obnoxiously loud “Value”. A nice nod is given to the extreme tackiness of acid with “Acid Minor” as it assaults the listener’s senses. Fortunately Shit and Shine keep their sense of humor intact for the bizarre “Bingo” which begins with a sample about a cup of tea before transforming itself into what appears to be a rumble between various samples, all of them losing. By far the highlight of the album is “Who’s Your Waitress” a song for making love to if you are a hopeless sick fuck. Neatly looping the sample until it reaches a kitsch override in the latter half of the piece the song is as addictive as it is deranged. Ending off with the playful “Spray Bottle” Shit and Shine display their warped take on whatever people hold dear.
“Powder Horn” shows what the future of music can be, a nightmarish funhouse of mirrors endlessly reflecting upon itself.
Travel is a must. Countries are built around their transportation systems. Elements of geography work in the favor of cities whether they are natural harbors, Earth-built water highways, and other equally important things. Humanity likes being near the water it lets humanity know there are limits to the land where the sea takes over and dominates. With so many people brought together into these places it is only natural that socializing happens. Keeping that in mind humanity created the written word to keep tabs on itself to celebrate itself. A visual age everything can be transmitted from far away whether it is an image or something more. Lazy days are filled with responding to these social media slowly gaining an idea of what a person is like.
Water hugs the Earth. People jump into water hoping to hide from the air. Life teems at the bottom of the seas. The world remains a mystery to those land-dwelling creatures who fail to realize that below the water’s surface is an entirely different world that can handle all sorts of extreme situations. Dreams are formed out of watery brains whose nerve ending spark creating new kinds of imagination. Gradually reality filters itself into the dream world as creativity diminishes with every new pop culture reference. Pop culture cannot be unlearned it is the way that people are raised from childhood to adulthood: on dominant culture. Few escape pop culture’s firm grasp on reality.
Dolphins are fortunate enough to be smart enough to dream and removed enough to avoid such a cruel fate. Most television shows are written by dolphins. This explains why television has moved away from sitcom series into more personal deeply moving stories. Not every story is written by a dolphin. Law and Order is written by an advanced bot, as is every single episode of NCIS. At a certain point the dolphins refuse to let their craft get dumbed down further. Thankfully the technology exists to dumb things down to ensure that artistic integrity can be sacrificed without hurting anybody’s feelings. A format is a thing technology understands as the world slowly reduces the difficulties their characters might face until every plot is interchangeable and nothing is troublesome.
Rare experiences are those where something new happens, something never done before. Few witness these events and fewer still do anything about them. Instead the world takes in these rare events way after the fact, after a couple of people manage to work out the kinks and present fully formed carefree experiences from them. Nobody wants to be the first but plenty of people want to be second.
Music comes out as color for the ears. Nobody hears quite the same thing. Different tastes reflect the timbres that fall ready to build sturdy homes in the woods. The moonlight falls on these happy noises glad that somebody is up to keep it company. Purely out of boredom the moon rocks the oceans back and forth dreaming of the sea creatures as children it never got to have. So the moon looks down on Earth’s oceans and wonders if it would have been a good parent. Unfortunately the moon never found the right atmosphere to bring life with it.
Coffee wakes the sun up after the moon finishes the graveyard shift. People die in their sleep and the moon is able to gently bring those departed to the light, gentle moonlight. The moon attracts the souls of people as if the souls were merely moths in spirit attracted to the light going towards the light. Due to many near-death experiences people have some knowledge of how to act when they are dead. Without this vital information the world would be a much darker much more confusing place full of contradictory facts. Late at night people watch moths head towards the light unaware that when every person dies they get reincarnated as moths in order to find just the right light to go towards.
Gardeners appreciate the moths for they pollinate pretty plants at night. During the day the gardeners do not want to be bothered by busy bees. At daybreak the moths are still there yet they are far less active. They surrender with their plain colors and let their distant relatives the butterflies circle about with vibrant colors. Not every plant serves the same purpose. Many are for show to give a bit more color to the bloom of spring. For the plain plants serve people delicious nutrients in cute but not overly so packages. After decades of evolution they know what they are doing.
The self is the most important part of doing anything. Every living creature has to respect themselves. Unique among millions and billions the self tries to assert themselves into all kinds of groups. Depending on the need to conform the self-adjusted adjusts the self accordingly. No two people have the same experience hence they begin to become radically different. Life tries to determine what purpose it serves and once it finds the purpose it lives it as hard as it possibly can.
Writing expresses what the self wants to be. The fewer filters the better the image is conveyed. Unfiltered realizations are rare and worthy of admiration.