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Feverish endoparasites ,struggling hard to scare the shit out of themselves so that they could ,with a renewed dignity, deal with the torments of their first nocturnal ejaculations, as puberty’s knocking on the door.
Porphyroid revisionists, wanking with a blind fervour over the Great Reich’s eternal glory, from within the golden and peaceful dephts of the parental haven.
Alienated, long-term unemployed and first-rate winos, facing their mediocre living conditions and whose sole alternative is but total committment to their immature and chaotic chimeras, until their inexorable and pitiful demise.
“Metaloid” proles, blatantly becoming middle class, ravaged by alcolhol and clubbers drugs, uncomfortable with their itchy virginity and praising a precious TRVE IVOL fanatism, in short cliché as fuck.
Bovine neo-pagan racists, heavily armed and preparing, from fuck knows whatever deep undergrowth, the irreversible world order’s fall.
Die-hard nihilists, devoid of any conviction, nurturing in front of their beloved computer the very essence of their sickening fickleness.
And that’s the least of them, we could go on for hours and hours of causticity: the blacklist seems to have no end. This anthology of bestial mockeries turns out to be sadly revealing about the disparaging masses’ frustrations, what’s more totally inefficient against a conduct kept inflexible from its very beginning, on the contrary to - let us judge with a lucid eye - those many who lost face, their tragic flaw being opportunism.
So many unlikely testimonies, conveyed by self-appointed « experts » throughout the years, revealing about a so-called extreme microcosm which, after magnificence, is now lying down under the weigh of its pseudo-leading ideological currents.
A Doctrinal palette which, through a common nobility of spirit and beyond any distinction, ought to have perpetuated, in unison, an untameable and insurrectionary inheritance of pure hatred but which, by dint of greed, immaturity and dissensions, ended up as a huge shithole of futile and affected quarrels. Paradoxically, content has sucked any consistency, strenght and credibility out of form and a sickening acknowledgement of failure emerges when you go into the matter closely:
A NS faction so much inhibited by its phantasmagorical/pathological obsession with the safeguard of its unworthy and incurable peer, that caught between sterile and alcoholic gatherings, timorous provocations and low calibre pogroms, it aims to forget the very essence of Extreme Metal.
A political identity-driven division showing much appealing promises, but unable to write a single leaflet in plain French, and whose militants, often reluctant to display their opinions by day, are quick to run tail between legs when any clash happens with hoodies.
A satanist hotchpotch supposedly in the very image of what Black Art should be, which, not content with worshipping a quite catholic horned master through some smooth and sweaty sodomite activities, self-inflicted harmless lacerations and/or hollow biblical inversions, seems to stand speechless when testimonying the stain of religious symbols which do not belong to a sclerotic and innocuous christianity.
A pagan-heathen mire, in fact urbanized to the bone, which probably discovered the shape of its first piglet at an Agriculture Exhibition and whose sole knowledge about mother nature is restricted to the canine faeces on which they slip while wandering in endless grey and filthy streets, but which at the end of the day do not hesitate to make Odin Or Perun ashamed when they call on their spirit, what is more on a Gallic land.
A troop of sluggards keeping on, in spite of any logic, claiming a suicidal misanthropy after ten demos and fifteen albums, yet nurturing their suffocating dislikes within MSN private chatrooms, overflowing with anaemic gothic sluts...
Last but not least, we will not count out the sickening antimatter which, benefiting from the aforementioned tumultuous discord, rushed into the breach to incessantly treat us to its lukewarm conformism, its fashionable, straight-edge, cosmopolitan tolerance, humanistic goodness, mainstream reformism, or onanistic puritanical outbursts, so that they could, insidiously and desperately, struggle to justify their place into the circle and live prosperous and respected for something they hardly understand.
At the end of the day, a pessimistic picture looms on the horizon, utterly confusing and only sketching out caricatural and nauseous shades. So many obsolete frivolities, superficial debasements that our ambitions could never ever content with.
As numerous Komrades have already given emphasis to, the order of the day is no more expansion of what the unworthy name “scene”, but regression, autarkical and hermetic withdrawing. To further this end beyond any conformist label, castrating morals, ethical frustration, or ideological side, R.U tends more than ever to federate maniaks and coherent pariahs, totally in keeping with their mad processes and subversions, and bearing in mind that, once and for all, the “Movement”s common denominator is PURE FUCKING HATRED.