The Great Barrier Reefer

In early 2013, the Indonesian government launched an expedition down into the depths of the Marianas Trench to investigate the existence of the Great Barrier Reefer, reportedly one of the heaviest and biggest plants known to humans. Rumors of its mysterious behavior and odd destructive consciousness among scuba divers and other deep-sea explorers have long stirred people's interest, and a publicly known study of this anomaly was the only way to clear things up once and for all. There was only one man daring, curious and stoned enough to travel down to the deepest point on the ocean floor and record observations of a big, weird, and not-necessarily-real plant, however; a hairy Canadian who smelled of smoked sausage and actually tried to convince us that Neige hadn't heard shoegaze prior to recording Souvenirs d'un Autre Monde. What was meant to be a two-week expedition for him turned into more than two months; finally, 79 days after the mission began, he slowly surfaced, permanently incoherent and babbling like an idiot. The only anecdotal evidence that managed to be salvaged was this disconnected series of transcripts, although the issues this guy was having clearly...originated down there. Even with this much evidence, so much of the Great Barrier Reefer remains a mystery, and the government refuses to release any further detail or writings about the Great Barrier Reefer other than these few selections. So much for complete transparency, assholes.

Day 5
Well, this looks like a bust. So far, since the beginning, it's just been empty, open-note ocean. I'm starting to doubt whether or not this thing even exists; I'm pretty deep down at this point, and still, nothing to be heard expect for faint recorded voices. There's screams and shrieks in the distance every now and then, but they sound like something out of a movie. Still, nothing but emptiness in melodic form. Every now and then some semblance of harmony or form pops out, or things appear to speed up or slow down, but nothing has come of it yet. Light can't even penetrate the water at this point, so it's becoming slightly harder to keep track of the days. There's a...presence in these waters, but I don't know how much deeper the ocean even goes or how much longer I'll be able to last down here. The Great Barrier Reefer is nothing but folklore at this point.

Day 7
Something's happening. All went oddly still for a second, and then it just exploded into view. I can't even give what I'm seeing a name, there's clouds of oily sludge rising up, the water's turned murky and grey and down on the ocean floor, it's just...writhing. The water moves according to the waves, but a conscious body seems to be twisting and distorting whatever its reach can grasp at. It's unbelievable! I'll hopefully be able to get a closer look in time, because right now I can only see flashes of that mysterious presence in the midst of murky, droning waters.

Day 13
It's beautiful.
I think it might have been around day 12- can't really remember, you kind of start to lose track of the days down here, but some gorgeous riffs appeared out of the depths. Lush, melodic, and so large in quantity compared to the sparse emptiness that proceeded it, it took days for this thing to come into form but it managed to introduce itself in such an instantaneous and shocking fashion. Everything is alive, even though this thing is huge and moves slower than the waters themselves there's still more going on than you could even look at. I don't know why anybody could ever have regarded this thing as evil; there's far too much prog rock and lackadaisical melody permeating the surface, an amazing sort of deconstruction of the massive, throbbing doom drones that served as a precursor to the melodies. The clouds are clearing up, the water's becoming crystalline, and I'm finally seeing what people have been describing as the Great Barrier Reefer as it really is. It's like staring down at earth from space, it's overwhelming to the point where description feels unnecessary and I just want to take it all in.

Day 22
Or is it day 23? God, I don't even know. I can't stand to reason my clock works as well down here as it does on the surface, being there's no way I just spent ten days staring at this thing and watching the immaculate melodic riffs fly out. One after the other, all different and unique yet being part of a clear pattern and framework, the legendary entities that assembled the Great Barrier Reefer have a remarkable order and structure to their creation that can only really be experienced first-hand. They've been getting increasingly lighter and more delicate as time goes on, and I will admit they may have lulled me to be very stunned and awed by their nature for a few...days...but around the time of this writing I started hearing a buzz. The water's begun to get a little cloudier around the great beast and the clouds are coming closer to my ship. This ship is pretty tightly sealed but the thick, grey clouds of dust are starting to slowly trickle through the walls of this underwater vessel. I'm starting to get kind of worried, but but not to the point that it's actively troubling. But maybe, just maybe, I'm being lulled into a false sense of security....

Day 25
I don't have much time to write because I can barely see the paper I'm writing on, this entire place has been filled with grey clouds. It happened without any sort of warning, I can't see where I'm going, the melodies aren't nice anymore, they're turgid and writhing and signal the presence of doom...I need to make sure everything is stable and this ship doesn't explode. The air is getting thicker, this might be my last journal entry, I just need to get the ship the fuck out of he

Day 34
It has been days on days and the torturous sludge continues to pour. every time this thing makes me think escape is possible it just hammers the same destructive riff back over my head again. The grey smoke occasionally clears up a bit and everything is sort of dark, with an emanating red glow; kind of like a darkroom, but the sense of dread I felt last time I wrote hasn't left. I've been swallowed into this thing's inner core, and it just drags you down from every angle with its huge, almost tentacle-like stem appendages. My head is spinning and I can't make sense of anything anymore, even finding the energy to write is taking all of my strength right now I have to put this pen down

Day 42
At long last, I have gained the strength and clarity to account for my experiences. There's less commotion, the smoke has at long last permanently dissipated, the dreadful doom riffs no longer twist and turn me about and all is shining anew. I'm reminded of some of the greatest moments of Isis and Neurosis, but the modern post-rock influence present in most atmospheric styles of doom metal aren't really present. Instead, there is a feeling of weightlessness in melody right now that brings to mind the grungy, southern sludge of Eyehategod and the vast, spacious clean tones of Kyuss more than anything. The meaning of existence is easily understood in these waters. I don't know if I ever want to go back. There's no apparent direction to head outside of this melodic verse after the thrashing that I was just given, and for all I care, my journey could end here. This is complete bliss. Only slightly differing counterpoint melodies occasionally pop up to give the verse some texture and richness, and there's no real reason to leave this beautiful place. It's been over a month since I've eaten or drank anything under these waters, yet somehow I live to see the living, breathing beast that is the Great Barrier Reefer. Every second of existence in this realm is pure ecstasy.

Day 52
I think I'm hearing double, man. The same melody's been going on for so long I hear two of them at once. Everything has lost its form, I cannot tell whether I am observing the Great Barrier Reefer from the outside looking in again or whether I am inside its very depths. The date on this entry is pretty much a wild guess, I have determined it is somewhere between day 51 and day 53 down here, so 52 was a nice compromise. What month was it when I left? What is life? Why does everybody not just visit this unexplainable plant themselves? Every day my brain fills with more questions than answers when down here as I get sucked into the story.

Day 54
There's some sort of pounding tribal rhythm in the background. I don't like what it seems to signify. All else is silent.

Day 59
I spoke too soon. The thrashing has begun again. You know, once you get used to it, being whipped about in a constant siege of pulsating doom riffs isn't really as bad as you think it is. Sure, it's abrasive and makes you dizzy, but it is all just part of the grand cycle of chewing you up, spitting you out, and letting your wounds heal before it does the same thing to you again. The Great Barrier Reefer takes you on a sonic rollercoaster with some of the greatest contrasts ever seen when it comes to songwriting dynamics. The peaks are ever higher and the valleys reach to new lows, and after long enough, it Stockholm Syndromes you into loving the constant barrage of dreadfully bleak doom riffs by the time you've been down here as long as I have. It may only have a singular, destructive purpose, but it succeeds so well in executing that purpose that there is no reason not to revere this as you would a god. In time, the heavy-as-lead riffs will slowly peel off their layers to reveal a heart of genuine beauty within.

Day 63
I have reached the heart of the Great Barrier Reefer. It is nihilistic and ugly. Pure, untainted darkness, writhing in its droning singularity. It is similar to the ocean in that it seems as though there is nothing around and differs in the sense that it truly is all-consuming. There is nothing to be found in here but an endless trench of despair and violence, with every new note that layers itself on to the wall of sound looking to create additional dissonance as opposed to consonance. The whole album's presence is driven by the rhythms in the background that keep a very pronounced presence in the overall sound of the Great Barrier Reefer and gives it the divine sense of order and flow that it has, and they give an accent to every droning pulse that lines the conclusion of the Great Barrier Reefer. I don't know how I'm ever going to get out of this place, but I have no immediate need to leave and it gets more pleasant and harmonious in here every day. Perhaps I will not live the life you on the outside are accustomed to, but my existence will be a fulfilling one nonetheless.

Day 74
I see the light. Everything has begun to slow down, and a bright aura has filled what was previously an eerie and dark place. It will still take a few days to escape and return to the surface, but the treacherous expedition finally seems to be drawn to a close. This is a dangerous beast that tosses you around like a helpless doll with its psychedelic distortion, and should be approached with extreme caution. Where the cycle ends, when and why is yet to be explained. Maybe one day, we will be prepared to examine the Great Barrier Reefer in its true form, but for now, it is relegated to the realm of legends such as bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, because the weight and power The Great Barrier Reefer has to take you on a terrific journey can only really be believed when heard with one's own ears. I think this is something everyone should explore, but not necessarily for fun. It should be a scientific sort of exploration, a meticulous observance of everything The Great Barrier Reefer entails, because the amazing sense of unity makes this an example of how obliterating, crushing doom is done with greatest effect.