Russian Roulette

Calling Shotgun

Spinning the cylinder of a revolver is playing checkers with Lucifer, knowing he's going to sell our soul to cover up his expenses for his trip back to hell. Russian Roulette is his favorite game. He tells us to keep spinning the cylinder until the trusty bullet chooses us. For him, it really is a match made in Heaven!Loading up our next sequences of our MMO without sandbox mode, we dive into our other, co-morbid platform: mental asylums. Myths, games, and portrayals of mental asylums have always piqued our interests more or less. We call mental asylums batty, odd-balled containers that are not meant to be open again. They are Pandora's box, protecting us from hungry-mongering energies in which are dysfunctional to our traditional norms and societal structures we have been programmed in. 

Our interpretations of mental asylums do not give us our complete, transparent outlook of them. Instead, they are wrapped in fear, unconsciously telling us to run away from them at all costs. Locking ourselves in this specific vision, Gulaggh, a band from Holland, challenges this generalization. Gulaggh brings us our ideal wish in visiting mental asylums, yet their disturbances make us wrap ourselves in cozy blankets. They aim to give us our bleakest, most transparent realms of our humanistic experience, capturing the screams of many programmings who faced severe abuse, torture, psychological manipulation, and more. 

Weaving into Gulaggh's anticipatory fear, their tracks often start off with manipulative energies of ominous tunes, emitting them as distorted sounds that constantly attack our trembling frequencies when heard in the ringing of our ears. These programmings trigger their sound energies, trying to scream out their crimes against humanity. They can be heard in the form of miserable screams, wailings, screeches, howlings, higher-lower octaves of bleeding torment. At times, the patients' sound energies are integrated with their senses of banging metals, chewing cells, and spewing anarchy on their environment. These emissions of sound energies become threatening, miserable to our ears as their frequencies are heard in fearful bewilderment. Clashes with higher and lower octaves of mutable frequencies strain our ears, never letting us experience their perceptual circumstances arranged in distinctive variations. The unsuccessful magnetism of the tracks lies in the inclusions of the women and children who make up most of the clinking and clanking, surrendering to their miseries in the fits for art. We can not dismiss these crimes against humanity in every second the sound energies are being emitted in the hesitant clicking of the play button. 

If these tracks are given a justification to what they are, they would be heard as demonic entities who reinforce the crimes against humanity in the programmings exhibited in the gnawings of their stolen sanity. For them, it is therapy. For us, on the other side of the fence, it is the crimes against humanity projecting out the ranges of perceptual humanity experienced in distinctive ladders of their circumstances.  

The echoes of our sound energies stick into our quantum memory, mishandling them in the decays of gratified relief temporarily. Our triggers fall short of sleep, shooting themselves in our leg when our crimes against humanity are projected into our third-dimension.

Reloading these sound energies into our revolvers is our fabric in our crimes against humanity. There is no trigger warning when these tracks rattle our vibrations alone.

Warning: I do not condone or urge us to google these tracks by Gulaggh. It is not for the faint of heart nor is it appropriate. The tracks are known to be disturbing and uncomfortable.