Dark Suns - Orange
Several factors impede my ability to digest and enjoy Prog Rock. The fact that I can still produce and maintain an erection, relationships with non-fictional people, heterosexuality, employment, etc. So when it comes to an album like this new Dark Suns, the best I can do is to offer you an analogy. Let’s say Mikael Akerfeldt from Opeth and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez from The Mars Volta are hanging out at Mikael’s apartment, locked in a deep dispute over which Comus song has the best ukulele solo, when all of a sudden Omar says, “Hey Mikey, you wanna fuck me in the ass?” “Sure,” Mikael responds, “why the hell not?” So Akerfeldt begins to pound Omar’s ass with reckless abandon. It’s at this point Omar realizes he hasn’t taken a shit since his all-natural, organic, vegan falafel this morning, but by now it’s too late as he feels his bowels involuntarily releasing. Mikael continues punishing Omar’s shit-spewing mangina with so much fury that he tears his anal wall and Lopez begins to bleed. This excites Mikael more than a 29-minute John Myung bass solo, and no longer able to hold back, ejaculates violently into Omar’s battered opening. At the exact minute he cums, Akerfeldt screams at the top of his lungs, “I’m liberated from the shackles of Metal!!” He now slowly unburies his member. “Keep it in there! Keep it in there!” Mikael commands. And Lopez does so just long enough for Akerfeldt to kneel down and felch the blood-semen-vegan excrement out of Omar’s asshole. “Don’t be selfish,” Lopez pleads, as Mikael then spits the mouthful of cum, blood and shit into his mouth. This causes instant nausea which results in Omar vomiting all the goods onto the ground. Luckily Mikael is able to scoop up most of the vomit-semen-blood-shit mixture with a Camel 10” picture disc. He salvages as much as he can and tosses into his favorite blender, the one James LaBrie got him for Christmas the year before. He then adds shaved coconut, almonds, pecans, lemon zest, steamed raisin skins, some pineapple juice, a splash of O’Doul’s and 9 whole onions to the concoction. But something’s still missing. He makes a quick phone call to Fred Wilpon, who happens to owe him a huge favor. Lo and behold, several hours later all 25 men on the active roster for the New York Mets arrive and each take turns ejaculating into the blender. Some of the younger players fresh out of college who still have acne even pop their whitehead and blackhead pus into the cocktail just to give it that little extra kick. Now all it needs are some of Mikael’s “special ice cubes” (Steven Wilson’s frozen urine), and the blender is set to puree for about 90 seconds. Akerfeldt pulls out a chilled glass, the same one Neil Peart made him when they took that glass-blowing class together last summer, and pours it to the brim, topping with all-natural, organic, sugar free, vegan whipped cream and a cherry. The contents of the glass are this new album from Dark Suns. And to listen to it is to drink up. Bon appetit!
(1) Comment(s)
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Kalashnyx said:
Glad someone has the balls to call these “prog metal” faggots out on their homosexuality. The emperor has no clothes, and Mikael Akerfeldt is tossing his salad.
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