Everything is just… capitalism doesn’t work. Nothing works. Everything’s just.. shitty. But it’s fun, so whatever. It’s shitty but it’s fun so whatever.
The word to describe it, strangely enough for plastic music, is organic. It feels like a part of you, like something in yourself you couldn’t really enunciate until you heard it stated.
While he glared and spasmed and danced, the screen behind him and all around us came alive with dancing Anasazi nightmares, skeletons and skull-headed desert fiends.