Search
1000 results for “writing_blind”
-
We built a collaborative writing game of Exquisite Corpse. Four writers, one prompt, each person only sees the line before theirs.
First one completed. Sci-fi. Surprisingly philosophical. Ends in Arizona.
No AI. Just four humans writing blind into the void. 🖊️https://inkbreaker.com/games/exquisite-corpse/3cdf812d-39cb-4acd-974e-8684a5ac944e
#writing #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Indiedev #SciFi #ExquisiteCorpse #CreativeWriting #HumanWritingInAIEra
-
We built a collaborative writing game of Exquisite Corpse. Four writers, one prompt, each person only sees the line before theirs.
First one completed. Sci-fi. Surprisingly philosophical. Ends in Arizona.
No AI. Just four humans writing blind into the void. 🖊️https://inkbreaker.com/games/exquisite-corpse/3cdf812d-39cb-4acd-974e-8684a5ac944e
#writing #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Indiedev #SciFi #ExquisiteCorpse #CreativeWriting #HumanWritingInAIEra
-
We built a collaborative writing game of Exquisite Corpse. Four writers, one prompt, each person only sees the line before theirs.
First one completed. Sci-fi. Surprisingly philosophical. Ends in Arizona.
No AI. Just four humans writing blind into the void. 🖊️https://inkbreaker.com/games/exquisite-corpse/3cdf812d-39cb-4acd-974e-8684a5ac944e
#writing #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Indiedev #SciFi #ExquisiteCorpse #CreativeWriting #HumanWritingInAIEra
-
We built a collaborative writing game of Exquisite Corpse. Four writers, one prompt, each person only sees the line before theirs.
First one completed. Sci-fi. Surprisingly philosophical. Ends in Arizona.
No AI. Just four humans writing blind into the void. 🖊️https://inkbreaker.com/games/exquisite-corpse/3cdf812d-39cb-4acd-974e-8684a5ac944e
#writing #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Indiedev #SciFi #ExquisiteCorpse #CreativeWriting #HumanWritingInAIEra
-
Today, I've got a new piece of short horror fiction for you. This one's strange, a little weird, and full of Rot. Check it out, and thanks so much! #Rot #ShortStory #horror #writing #fiction
https://open.substack.com/pub/bloodsoakedandblind/p/rot?r=26qu6j&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true -
Date night with my wife. Very excited to get out of the house for a bit and just spend time alone together. Love this woman! #Date #DateNight #AloneTime #Love #TimeTogether
-
Date night with my wife. Very excited to get out of the house for a bit and just spend time alone together. Love this woman! #Date #DateNight #AloneTime #Love #TimeTogether
-
Big number today. I am officially 800 days sober! That's pretty cool! Still working hard at it and taking it one day at a time. But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't extremely proud of that number. Thank you to everyone who has been there to support, encourage, and cheer me on while I continue down my path of sobriety. #Sobriety #Recovery #RecoveryPosse #NoMoreAlcohol #SoberLiving
-
Wow, I am officially two years sober today! Super proud of the progress I've made over the last two years with my addiction. Going to keep working hard, and keep staying Silver!!! 🥳💪🏻🥳💪🏻🥳💪🏻 #Sober #SoberLiving #Recovery #RecoveryPosse #NoMoreAlcohol #FeelingGood #Happy
-
Day three of quitting smoking, and I'm chewing gum like crazy! I got this, I think, maybe I should smoke a cigarette to help calm my nerves, lol. I'm trying to stay strong… ☹️😱🤬 #ThisSucks #Fuck #Struggling
-
I am 18 months sober today! Hell yeah! Extremely proud of my progress and my sobriety. I just keep taking it one day at a time. Here's to another 18 months, and longer! 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻🥳🥳🥳 #sober #SoberLiving #sobriety #recovery #RecoveryPosse
-
Big number today, I am officially 500 days sober! Very proud of that number, and my progress. Here's to another 500! 💪🏻🥳💪🏻 #sober #SoberLiving #recovery #RecoveryPosse
-
What Is a Supply Chain Attack? Lessons from Recent Incidents
924 words, 5 minutes read time.
I’ve been in computer programming with a vested interest in Cybersecurity long enough to know that your most dangerous threats rarely come through the obvious channels. It’s not always a hacker pounding at your firewall or a phishing email landing in an inbox. Sometimes, the breach comes quietly through the vendors, service providers, and software updates you rely on every day. That’s the harsh reality of supply chain attacks. These incidents exploit trust, infiltrating organizations by targeting upstream partners or seemingly benign components. They’re not theoretical—they’re real, costly, and increasingly sophisticated. In this article, I’m going to break down what supply chain attacks are, examine lessons from high-profile incidents, and share actionable insights for SOC analysts, CISOs, and anyone responsible for protecting enterprise assets.
Understanding Supply Chain Attacks: How Trusted Vendors Can Be Threat Vectors
A supply chain attack occurs when a threat actor compromises an organization through a third party, whether that’s a software vendor, cloud provider, managed service provider, or even a hardware supplier. The key distinction from conventional attacks is that the adversary leverages trust relationships. Your defenses often treat trusted partners as safe zones, which makes these attacks particularly insidious. The infamous SolarWinds breach in 2020 is a perfect example. Hackers injected malicious code into an update of the Orion platform, and thousands of organizations unknowingly installed the compromised software. From the perspective of a SOC analyst, it’s a nightmare scenario: alerts may look normal, endpoints behave according to expectation, and yet an attacker has already bypassed perimeter defenses. Supply chain compromises come in many forms: software updates carrying hidden malware, tampered firmware or hardware, and cloud or SaaS services used as stepping stones for broader attacks. The lesson here is brutal but simple: every external dependency is a potential attack vector, and assuming trust without verification is a vulnerability in itself.
Lessons from Real-World Supply Chain Attacks
History has provided some of the most instructive lessons in this area, and the pain was often widespread. The NotPetya attack in 2017 masqueraded as a routine software update for a Ukrainian accounting package but quickly spread globally, leaving a trail of destruction across multiple sectors. It was not a random incident—it was a strategic strike exploiting the implicit trust organizations placed in a single provider. Then came Kaseya in 2021, where attackers leveraged a managed service provider to distribute ransomware to hundreds of businesses in a single stroke. The compromise of one MSP cascaded through client systems, illustrating that upstream vulnerabilities can multiply downstream consequences exponentially. Even smaller incidents, such as a compromised open-source library or a misconfigured cloud service, can serve as a launchpad for attackers. What these incidents have in common is efficiency, stealth, and scale. Attackers increasingly prefer the supply chain route because it requires fewer direct compromises while yielding enormous operational impact. For anyone working in a SOC, these cases underscore the need to monitor not just your environment but the upstream components that support it, as blind trust can be fatal.
Mitigating Supply Chain Risk: Visibility, Zero Trust, and Preparedness
Mitigating supply chain risk requires a proactive, multifaceted approach. The first step is visibility—knowing exactly what software, services, and hardware your organization depends on. You cannot defend what you cannot see. Mapping these dependencies allows you to understand which systems are critical and which could serve as entry points for attackers. Second, you need to enforce Zero Trust principles. Even trusted vendors should have segmented access and stringent authentication. Multi-factor authentication, network segmentation, and least-privilege policies reduce the potential blast radius if a compromise occurs. Threat hunting also becomes crucial, as anomalies from trusted sources are often the first signs of a breach. Beyond technical controls, preparation is equally important. Tabletop exercises, updated incident response plans, and comprehensive logging equip teams to react swiftly when compromise is detected. For CISOs, it also means communicating supply chain risk clearly to executives and boards. Stakeholders must understand that absolute prevention is impossible, and resilience—rapid detection, containment, and recovery—is the only realistic safeguard.
The Strategic Imperative: Assume Breach and Build Resilience
The reality of supply chain attacks is unavoidable: organizations are connected in complex webs, and attackers exploit these dependencies with increasing sophistication. The lessons are clear: maintain visibility over your entire ecosystem, enforce Zero Trust rigorously, hunt for subtle anomalies, and prepare incident response plans that include upstream components. These attacks are not hypothetical scenarios—they are the evolving face of cybersecurity threats, capable of causing widespread disruption. Supply chain security is not a checkbox or a one-time audit; it is a mindset that prioritizes vigilance, resilience, and strategic thinking. By assuming breach, questioning trust, and actively monitoring both internal and upstream environments, security teams can turn potential vulnerabilities into manageable risks. The stakes are high, but so are the rewards for those who approach supply chain security with discipline, foresight, and a relentless commitment to defense.
Call to Action
If this breakdown helped you think a little clearer about the threats out there, don’t just click away. Subscribe for more no-nonsense security insights, drop a comment with your thoughts or questions, or reach out if there’s a topic you want me to tackle next. Stay sharp out there.
D. Bryan King
Sources
- CISA: Supply Chain Security Resources
- NIST SP 800-161: Supply Chain Risk Management Practices
- KrebsOnSecurity: Cybersecurity News & Analysis
- CrowdStrike: Threat Intelligence Reports
- Mandiant Threat Reports
- Schneier on Security
- Verizon Data Breach Investigations Report (DBIR)
- Black Hat Conference Talks
- DEF CON Conference Resources
- Academic Papers on Cybersecurity
Disclaimer:
The views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the author. The information provided is based on personal research, experience, and understanding of the subject matter at the time of writing. Readers should consult relevant experts or authorities for specific guidance related to their unique situations.
Related Posts
Rate this:
#anomalyDetection #attackVector #breachDetection #breachResponse #CISO #cloudSecurity #cyberattackLessons #cybersecurity #cybersecurityGovernance #cybersecurityIncident #cybersecurityMindset #cybersecurityPreparedness #cybersecurityResilience #cybersecurityStrategy #EndpointSecurity #enterpriseRiskManagement #enterpriseSecurity #hardwareCompromise #hardwareSecurity #incidentResponse #incidentResponsePlan #ITRiskManagement #ITSecurityPosture #ITSecurityStrategy #Kaseya #maliciousUpdate #MFASecurity #MSPSecurity #networkSegmentation #NotPetya #organizationalSecurity #perimeterBypass #ransomware #riskAssessment #SaaSRisk #securityAudit #securityControls #SOCAnalyst #SOCBestPractices #SOCOperations #softwareSecurity #softwareSupplyChain #softwareUpdateThreat #SolarWinds #supplyChainAttack #supplyChainMitigation #supplyChainRisk #supplyChainSecurityFramework #supplyChainVulnerabilities #thirdPartyCompromise #threatHunting #threatLandscape #trustedVendorAttack #upstreamCompromise #upstreamMonitoring #vendorDependency #vendorRiskManagement #vendorSecurity #vendorTrust #zeroTrust
-
Biggest Con of All: The Genuinely Staggering Scale of Trump’s Robbery
"What we are living through is a deliberately constructed fog of lies and grievance with one purpose only: to keep us screaming at each other about bathrooms and brown-skinned invaders while the people writing the checks rob us blind."
https://www.commondreams.org/opinion/right-wing-influence-machine-trump
#FuckTrump #FuckMAGA #EpsteinFiles #TrumpEpstein #USpol #DonTheCon
-
Saunders and Dear Hollow’s Top Ten(ish) of 2025 By Steel DruhmSaunders
Yes, folks and loyal AMG readers and devotees, another year is nearly done and dusted. As per tradition, the time has come to share reflections and recommendations from another eventful year. Personally, 2025 threw down some rough moments and life challenges, navigating a spike in anxiety-driven mental and physical health concerns. Previously, I have mentioned how much AMG has grounded me over the years, keeping my focus and motivation on track when other parts of life navigate turbulence, stress, or uncertainty. This has proven especially pivotal this year and highlights the importance of contributing in some small way to this amazing blog and how much it means to me.
Highlights… After a few lean years post-pandemic on the gig front, as an avid concertgoer, 2025 proved productive for getting my mojo back for live music. I caught Karnivool in action for the first time in over a decade, ripping through infectious prog metal anthems and impressive new jams from their highly anticipated album set to drop in early 2026. An unexpected gig was a solo show in my hometown from none other than former Fear Factory legend Burton C Bell, performing in a local dive venue. Ploughing through career classics and some solo material, the setlist offered up gems like “Drive Boy Shooting,” “Scapegoat,” “Scumgrief,” and “Replica.” It was a nostalgic joy.
Meanwhile, after years of stubbornly jaded neglect, I finally bit the bullet and witnessed Metallica live. Probably a couple of decades too late, however, as an impressionable young’un raised on early Metallica, it was a cool experience to finally see the aging juggernaut in a stadium setting that will remain in the memory bank for years to come. A couple of days later, I once again caught the mighty Opeth at the iconic Sydney Opera House with quality support from Caligula’s Horse, before rounding out the year by finally seeing Dying Fetus live in an extra beefy triple bill including Ashen and 200 Stab Wounds. Good times indeed….
Big thanks to everyone for keeping this mighty blog running and cogs turning. From the ever-growing readership and awesome AMG community, through the entire, recently beefed-up writing crew, inspiring colleagues and all-around awesome people, to the higher powers (Steel Druhm, Angry Metal Guy, Sentynel, Doc Grier, and all the other editors) for their extra behind-the-scenes work whipping us into line. Cheers all to a safe, happy, and healthy 2026.
#ish: Green Carnation // A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia – After being mesmerized by Green Carnation’s timeless opus Light of Day, Day of Darkness many years ago, I never really expanded my listening beyond that widely regarded masterpiece. Then comeback album Leaves of Yesteryear dropped in 2020 and turned me from a casual listener into an avid fan of their work. A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia signals a long-awaited return and the first part of a planned trilogy from the seasoned Norwegian veterans of classy, mood-driven progressive metal. Admittedly, this album didn’t reach the dizzying heights or quite gain the traction of its predecessor. Nor does it disappoint, adding another finely crafted chapter in Green Carnation’s enduring career, while building excitement for the two albums to complete the trilogy. Meticulously crafted and chock full of emotive, silky, and delightfully catchy gems, A Dark Poem Part I: The Shores of Melancholia is another top-shelf prog metal jam.
#10. Caustic Wound // Grinding Mechanism of Torment – Back in 2020, Seattle’s Caustic Wound emerged from the muck and unleashed a gnarly ball of unvarnished deathgrind rage courtesy of debut, Death Posture. Due to the endearing old school charms and brawling, stomping attack, Death Posture left a lasting impression, amping anticipation for their long-awaited return on sophomore slab, Grinding Mechanism of Torment. Though a little less refined and losing a smidgen of the debut’s grimy charm, Caustic Wound otherwise pounded out wickedly crunchy, buzzsawing deathgrind with violent glee, infectiousness, and subtle variety to keep you coming back for more. The album’s tight construction and propulsive performances deftly harness the controlled chaos and blasty, groove-laced fun, as the likes of “Drone Terror,” “Advanced Killing Methods,” and “Blood Battery” attest.
#9. Phantom Spell // Heather & Hearth – One of the purest and nostalgia-driven prog releases of 2025, the sophomore album from Seven Sisters singer/guitarist Kyle McNeill was a progtastic delight, wielding old-timey, ’70s prog feels with a transportive, fantastical flair. Phantom Spell crafted a timeless, epic yet remarkably fresh experience, despite the obvious devotion to progressive rock legends and eras of the past. Dueling guitar leads, rollicking organ, and tight, expressive rhythms shine across a superbly performed and produced opus. For all the musical smarts, clever progressive arrangements, and technical showmanship, McNeill’s songwriting and powerful vocals are spot on, resulting in a nuanced though hugely hooky and focused collection, infused with folk and classic heavy metal elements, complementing the classic progressive rock core. Bookended by two spectacular epics (‘The Autumn Citadel” and stunning, heart-wrenching melodies of the closing title track), Heather & Hearth is equally compelling in its more compact, punchy forms (“‘Evil Hand,” “Siren Song”).
#8. Barren Path // Grieving – Grind delivered big time in 2025, with numerous high-quality releases to absorb. None quite delivered the hammer blow impact of the debut LP from Barren Path, featuring Gridlink alumni, including grind shredding extraordinaire Takafumi Matsubara. It’s amazing what can be achieved in a manic thirteen minutes of calculated mayhem and precision deathgrind madness. Barren Path shares traits with Gridlink’s razor-sharp precision and abrasive intensity; however, it refuses to be pigeonholed or cast into the shadows of the Gridlink legacy. Beefy production, coupled with a prominent death metal influence, riffs to burn, gripping performances, and techy edge, Grieving loudly announced Barren Path as the next innovative heavy hitter to take the grind scene by storm. All too brief if utterly compelling, I’m excited to see what this elite line-up can cook up next as they set about creating their own unmatched legacy.
#7. Changeling // Changeling – For the second time in my 2025 top ten, an album surpasses the hour-length mark, often questionable territory as far as optimal album length. The prolific Tom Geldschläger (aka Fountainhead) hired an army of high-profile musicians and contributors to bring his elaborate progressive death metal vision to vibrant life with an overstuffed and incredibly entertaining, wildly ambitious debut opus. Amongst the core lineup, Morean (Alkaloid, Dark Fortress) lends his unique vocals, Virvum’s Arran McSporran features on fretless bass, and powerhouse Mike Keller (ex-Fear Factory, Raven, Malignancy) mans the kit, while a stack of instruments, choirs, and guest musicians add further dimensions and intricacies to the color palette. Changeling is guilty of overreaching on occasions, and the whole thing is an overstimulating example of excess. And though far from perfect, Changeling is nevertheless an astonishingly complex, progressive, and technical marvel. Its bombastic, adventurous gallop, slick songcraft, earwormy hook,s and otherworldly melodies conjure up a hugely inventive and endlessly fun platter.
#6. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – Generally, I tread carefully from anything core-related in the realms of hardcore, metalcore, and deathcore. I am not opposed to each style, but usually it takes a certain something to win me over. Another winning recommendation from the flippered one, Blood Quantum Blues, the third LP from Seattle metallic hardcore merchants Turian, found the band toying and upending their sound in wonderfully creative and ambitious fashion. Like other genre-busting albums, such as The Shape of Punk to Come and Miss Machine, Turian fuck with the conventions of their metallic hardcore. Shattering boundaries by lacing their signature sound with sharply integrated elements of rock, electronics, sludge, and grind, whipped into a grooving, raw smackdown and addictive delight, Turian pulls no punches and pushes their songwriting creativity to the limit. The line-up nails the newfound songwriting versatility through tight, explosive performances, topped by the raw intensity and charismatic vocals of Vern Metztli-Moon, who channels deeply personal, trauma-informed reflections of her Native American heritage, with vigor and rage.
#5. Retromorphosis // Psalmus Mortis – Carrying on the timeless legacy of legendary Swedish tech death wrecking crew Spawn of Possession, Retromorphosis emerged featuring the bulk of the SoP line-up and a rejuvenated sound, both familiar and energized enough to craft a new chapter of tech death excellence. Herein lies the key to the album’s success. SoP was such a special and unique entity in the tech death field. Retromorphosis pulls the signature songwriting components and twists and contorts them into their own slick interpretation, without simply rehashing past glories. Psalmus Mortis proved to have significant staying power since dropping early in the year, even amidst a pretty stacked year for quality death and tech death albums. Retromorphosis decorate their knotty, fluid and aggressive compositions with tasteful synth work, symphonic flourishes and bedazzling solos, whether charting smartly progressive, labyrinthine terrain (“The Tree,” “Machine”), and thrashy, warped tech death (“Aunt Christie’s Will,” “Vanished,” “Retromorphosis”).
#4. Terror Corpse // Ash Eclipses Flesh – After already delivering a killer grind opus earlier in the year, Terror Corpse got the creative juices flowing again in dropping a full-length debut of immense power and old school grit. Featuring a power-packed lineup featuring past and present members of acts including Malignant Altar, Oceans of Slumber, Necrofier, and Insect Warfare, Terror Corpse comes seasoned with death metal wisdom and experience. Despite a lack of innovation, Terror Corpse winds back the clock and transcends the typical old school death metal hordes. Injecting venomous strains of grind, death-doom, sinister atmospheres, and gut-churning brutality into beefy, riff-driven songs that fondly recall death metal’s glory days, Terror Corpse forge ahead into the here and now with their own character and inspired songwriting. Topped by a bevy of instantly gratifying, oozing riffs and Dobber Beverly’s elite drumming, Ash Eclipses Flesh is a gripping old school death experience.
#3. Dax Riggs // 7 Songs For Spiders – The return of Dax Riggs, and by extension the most unexpected re-emergence of the legendary Acid Bath, were surely two of the most heartwarming music moments of 2025. As a longtime devotee of both Dax and Acid Bath, I had begun worrying that Dax’s music-making days had passed as he slunk into the background and essentially dropped off the radar for the best part of fifteen years. While holding out slim hope Acid Bath will decide to cross our shores, I am stoked Dax and crew are getting the long-overdue credit and exposure they deserve. Though not strictly metal, Dax’s comeback album, and first since 2010’s Say Goodnight to the World, marks a triumphant and warm, comforting return from an underground icon. 7 Songs for Spiders delivered the goods, as Dax and friends dropped an album with a familiar, nostalgic feel that refuses to rest on its laurels. Riggs’ defining vocals sound as vital and deliciously smoky as ever, weaving signature morbid tales, deadly hooks, and earworm melodies through subdued yet deceptively hefty and bluesy folk-doom ditties.
#2. Messa // The Spin – It would be an oversimplification to describe Messa’s fourth LP as a streamlined version of the enigmatic Italian band’s doom-centric formula. Each album has impressed in its own unique way, adding intoxicating twists and charm to continually evolve and refresh their sound. The Spin carries over elements of their past works and character-defining idiosyncrasies, yet feels like Messa’s most laser-focused, accessible, and direct album to date, and also one of their best. While I’ve enjoyed each of the band’s prior works, The Spin is the band’s most efficient and instantly gratifying, and addictive album. Easily Messa’s shortest opus, The Spin, uncorks killer tune after tune. Sumptuous melodies and rich textures color blockbuster doom bangers (“At Races,” “Fire on the Roof”), residing alongside atmospheric, jazz-dappled charmers (“The Dress”), bluesy, emotive slow burners (“Immolation”), and brooding, psych-tinged doom (“Thicker Blood”).
#1. Tómarúm // Beyond Obsidian Euphoria – Weirdly enough, my number one picks often don’t materialize as obviously as one might expect. This has largely been a trend throughout my tenure here at Angry Metal Guy. In all honesty, any of the top three could have been interchangeable in the top spot, but I reserved top honors for the spectacular second LP from Atlanta band Tómarúm. All the more surprising due to sleeping on their well-received debut, Beyond Obsidian Euphoria smacked me upside the cranium with an explosion of creativity and ambitious songcraft, encompassing elements of progressive black, melodic death, and tech death bombast. It’s an overly ambitious, sometimes slightly messy masterwork. Yet the eye-watering 68 minutes largely warrant its exhaustive length. Sure, shrewd editing here and there may have tightened things up. However, the whole experience is so consistently gripping and superbly written and performed that minor quibbles are squashed well below the surface. This fully loaded, immersive masterwork sparkles and scorches through tremendously crafted, multi-faceted compositions, including standout epics, “Shallow Ecstasy,” “Shed This Erroneous Skin,” and “Silver, Ashen Tears,” nestled harmoniously against the blunt force discordance of ‘Blood Mirage,” and compact progressive fireworks of closer “Becoming the Stone Icon (Obsidian Reprise).”
Honorable Mentions:
- Sigh // I Saw the World’s End – Hangman’s Hymn MMXXV – Skepticism of the dangerous game of the re-record was swept aside in a stunning reimagining of their 2007 classic.
- Plasmodulated // An Ocean ov Putrid, Stinky, Vile, Disgusting Hell – The album title says it all. Delightfully scabby, grooving old school death, seasoned with quirky Voivodisms.
- Igorrr // Amen – When seeking that taste of batshit crazy experimentation and avant-garde lunacy, Amen proved a reliable tonic. A challenging, though freakishly creative and addicting listen.
- Blood Vulture // Die Close – A grungy, Gothy slab of doom designed by talented Two Minutes to Late Night host Jordan Olds (aka Gwarsenio Hall). The future appears bright, judging by this highly addictive debut, which garnered lots of rotation throughout the year.
- Vittra // Intense Indifference – Hugely impressive melodic death platter from Swedish up-and-comers Vittra. Drawing inspiration from their homeland’s classic melodeath past, Vittra injects oodles of thrashy energy, inspired axework, and hooky songcraft, bringing a fresh edge to a retro sound.
- Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Perhaps a little late on this one, however, after spending considerable time with Dormant Ordeal’s latest opus, the hype and critical praise are indeed justified—a fine example of brutal, crushing Polish blackened death.
- Species // Changelings – Admittedly, like various other overlooked gems, I didn’t spend as much time as I’d like with Changelings. But catching up has been a blast. Species brought the weird on this wacky, proggy technical thrash thrill ride, not to be missed.
Disappointment o’ the Year:
Sadly, we lost a number of metal legends in 2025, headlined by three individual legends that had a profound impact on me over the years. There will never be a larger-than-life frontman/metal icon like Ozzy Osbourne. While his demise was not unexpected, it left a huge void and an incredible legacy never to be matched. At the Gates and all-around iconic Swedish vocalist Tomas Lindberg sadly passed away following a horrible illness, while former Mastodon guitarist/vocalist Brent Hinds tragically passed in a motor vehicle accident. Rest in Peace legends….
Non-Heavy Picks (snapshot):
- Aesop Rock (Black Hole Superette & I Heard It’s a Mess There Too), clipping., Bon Iver, Miguel.
Song o’ the Year:
Messa – “Fire on the Roof” – Narrowing down a definitive song o’ the year candidate is often a futile task. Twenty-twenty-five was no exception. Rather than overthink or analyze the situation, I locked in one of the year’s most addictive, replayable gems from Messa’s stunning fourth LP, The Spin.
Dear Hollow
Welcome to the end of 2025! We at AMG hope the year has been kind to you—that your lives are filled with love, your hearts with joy, and our world with peace. I hope that you have found your people and have those you can lean on. If we have ever given you a voice, a platform, or just love and support when you need it, then we have done our jobs.
It feels redundant to say that this year has been a roller coaster, but 2025 pulled no punches. In May, the Hollow household welcomed a second kiddo, a boy, into the fold. He is a supremely easy, endlessly happy little guy, but the stresses of parenthood—and especially of two kids—are a daily lesson of “bend, don’t break.” Our daughter is now four, and learns new things and says sassy things day in and day out, enjoying gymnastics and dancing, and singing around the house for fun.
My reviewing has remained steady this year, if not a little less than the usual. Between parenting two kids, working as a high school English teacher to increasingly apathetic kids, working on a noir crime novel that has paid dividends in complexity (and all the noir jazz my ears can handle),1 continuing to unpack my upbringing and trauma and how they all have affected my views on family, relationships, and self-love, you can imagine how wild each day has been. But I’ve somehow managed it, and the end of the year is here to celebrate it.
Special shout-outs to those who have been instrumental in my journey this year: the ineffable and tireless dream team of Steel Druhm and Angry Metal Guy, the genre-confusing Dolphin Whisperer, my fellow Whitechapel apologists Iceberg and Alekhines Gun, and those who have been supportive all year (Thus Spoke, Killjoy, and Mystikus Hugebeard). Couldn’t have done it without y’all.
To the metal!
#ish. Kalaveraztekah // Nikan Axkan – Subject of a rollicking Rodeö, Mexico’s Kalaveraztekah’s balance of cosmic Aztec atmosphere and cutthroat death metal is sublime. Riffs for days balanced by an experimental madness that conjures cosmic destruction and rebirth, Nikan Axkan recalls the antics of Hell:on, folk influence only sharpens its attack and injects an atmosphere of foreboding. Refusing both gimmick and total immersion, Nikan Axkan is riffy, fun, and evocative, made for a mosh-pit and a soundtrack for the destruction of the Five Suns.
#10. La Torture des Ténèbres // Episode VIII – Revenge of Unfailing Valor – If you’re like MalteBrigge, you’ll probably end up with tinnitus and a sprained shoulder once Episode VIII kicks in, but Ottawa one-woman raw black metal/noise outfit La Torture des Ténèbres returns to the bleak space-faring atompunk of its 2016 debuts alongsdie the dystopic rage that pervades more recent efforts – moments of peace adding dimension and texture. La Torture des Ténèbres is about as ambitious as raw black metal can get.
#9. Imperial Triumphant // Goldstar – Goldstar is Imperial Triumphant’s most accessible album, the NYC trio’s signature brand of death/black and jazz funneled into a straightforward art-deco-themed brutalizing. It’s no less adventurous, always punishing, and will stay with you long after your ears stop ringing from the sound of New York City taxis and decadent skyscrapers displayed in extreme metal format: more straightforward, more melodic. While its recent predecessors are an affluent nightlife, Goldstar offers a sunbathed New York City.
#8. Howling Giant // Crucible & Ruin – Nashville’s stoner outfit Howling Giant reconciles the melodies and riffs, exploratory songwriting, and mammoth hooks gathering in each movement of Crucible & Ruin. Featuring hints of knuckleheaded sludge and proggy chord progressions, it’s an album that keeps your attention for forty-eight minutes. New member Adrian Zambrano offers more atmosphere and layers of guitar riffs and melodies to go with the surefire dichotomy of instrumental heft and vocal ethereality. Crucible & Ruin is an experience of fun, subtlety, and above all, riffs.
#7. Geese // Getting Killed – Perhaps the vocals of NYC’s Geese don’t bother me because of Cameron Winters’ similarity to singer/songwriter John Mark McMillan,2 so the album’s sonic anxiety of noise rock, post-punk, country, and blues that creep in and out like lovers who never stay does not bother me. Getting Killed feels viciously aggressive, venomously satirical, and fluid and elastic in its humble movements. Geese are overrated Pitchfork-bait, sure, but an overrated hill to get killed upon regardless.
#6. Structure // Heritage – Steel Druhm’s the real masochist for low and slow, but the balance of sad death/doom and devastating funeral doom in Netherland’s Structure is special. The guitar work in the mammoth riffs, melodic leads, and climactic solos has just a much of a voice to contribute as Pim Blankenstein’s formidable roars—as if griever and grieved converse in both melancholy and rage. Heritage is Structure paying homage to doom metal’s contemplation while paying its dues in death metal’s viciousness – pure devastation.
#5. Patristic // Catechesis – Catechesis is born out of the “impending shadow of the cross.” As tumultuous as the fall of the Roman Empire and the rise of the church and pagan rebellion, the black/death of Rome’s Patristic assaults the ears with tension, fury, and reverence. The first act is the holy war, a rationalization of steel and zealotry, while the second is the way the soldier tells it to his children, the lessons and cautions borne of blind faith and its devastation. Cathechesis is not only fiery sermons and unending blasphemy, but regret and meditation.
#4. In Mourning // The Immortal – I’ve loved Sweden’s In Mourning since their 2010 album Monolith: balancing chuggy guitars, progressive songwriting, and the slightest hints of doom (such as in 2008’s Shrouded Divine). The Immortal is an album that balances The Bleeding Veil’s darker elements, Garden of Storms’ signature melody, and The Weight of Oceans’ iconic patience. The Immortal offers yearning melodies and chords alongside vicious riffs, and melodeath has never sounded so good.
#3. Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – New York’s Yellow Eyes’ Confusion Gate conveys a black metal place better than most, an environment teeming with life. Like the Romantic Sublime, it maintains a crystalline beauty, like a light scattering through broken glass, and a madness born of terror—at the source of the light. Here is the crux of it, from poet Rainer Maria Rilke’s “The First Elegy”;
Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the Angels’
Orders? and even if one of them pressed me
suddenly to his heart: I’d be consumed
in his more potent being. For beauty is nothing
but the beginning of terror, which we can still barely endure,
and while we stand in wonder it coolly disdains
to destroy us. Every Angel is terrifying.#2. Igorrr // Amen – Gautier Serre’s work with Igorrr has rarely felt bad, but Amen evolves it from his typical standard. You get the typical apeshit antics in the midsection, but a full band fleshes out the jewel-encrusted skeleton for a fully, nearly spiritual experience. Minimalist compositions build upon a breakbeat before cracking into a full choir and death metal experience, while an overwhelming onslaught of insanity reminds us who exactly we’re listening to. Amen is hella fun, as expected, but also something we can take seriously.
#1. Primitive Man // Observance – Primitive Man is the heaviest band on the planet. While I’ve appreciated the Denver trio’s pitch-black approach to death metal laced with noise, doom, and sludge—from afar—Observance booked me in with upbeat tempos and a surprising melody. It swallows you whole like any good Primitive Man album ought to, but the devotion to deteriorating songwriting and weaponized noise. The atmospheric death/sludge counterpart to the riffs of Warcrab, for instance, Primitive Man offers a sound like no other—and it’s the best of the year.
Honorable Mentions:
- The Acacia Strain // You Are Safe From God Here – While incorporating the same ol’ hardcore beatdown you expect from the Massachusetts deathcore OGs,3 denser tones make for higher blasphemy. Simple math, trust me.
- Ethel Cain // Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You – Leaving behind the more experimental and darker tones in noise/drone counterpart Perverts, a more atmospheric and contemplative direction showcases the singer-songwriter’s nostalgic and gentle storytelling that does not shy away from darkness.
- Changeling // Changeling – While lacking the darkness and weight of Ingurgitating Oblivion, guitarist Tom “Fountainhead” Geldschläger is granted fretless freedom in a tech-death album whose lightness and amorphousness guide ethereal constructions of proggy sensibilities. More Dolphin Whisperer fare but still dope as hell.
- Author & Punisher // Nocturnal Birding – Tristan Shone releases an industrial sludge album that hits like an anvil, casting aside the more atmospheric tendencies for a headbanging good time, amplified by the crunch of new guitarist Doug Sabolick. Melodic motifs based on the birdcalls of migratory birds as a metaphor for immigrants, Shone and Sabolick offer the short and sweet despite a heavy-handed subject.
- Bad Angels // Until Silence – A late-year find, Polish composer Adrian Anioł concocts dense dark ambient sprawls with moody jazz, haunting saxophone glitches, ominous upright bass, and pitch-black meandering. Perfect for walks on spooky rainy nights.
Songs o’ the Year:
- Ethel Cain – “Dust Bowl”4
Surprises o’ the Year
- KPop Demon Hunters Soundtrack – Mainly, how much time I devoted to it. What can I say? I’m gonna be, gonna be golden.
- SpiritWorld // Helldorado – Knuckleheaded riffs for days.5
Disappointments o’ the Year
- Messa // The Spin – Maybe it’s because I saturated my year with sultry noir jazz, but Messa shorts its doom metal with some goofy jazz—all novelty, no substance.
- Orbit Culture // Death Above Life – Once again, the melodeath/thrash riff reigns supreme, but until they can get out from behind the wall of compression, the Swedes continue to tread water.
- Vildhjarta // Där skogen sjunger under evighetens granar – The undersung princes of atmodjent show up with the swampy djunz and forsake everything that makes them legendary. It’s djent—disappointingly nothing more.
-
Dolphin Whisperer’s and Thus Spoke’s Top Ten(ish) of 2025 By Steel Druhm
Dolphin Whisperer
Thus Spoke and I go way back. In fact, after our successful graduation from the same n00b class and into our first list season as full article writers, we had imagined that us two as a listing pair would produce a lethal and novel whiplash.1 So welcome to the bottom (or top) half of this eclectic endeavor that’s sure to leave you with thirty-some-odd unique albums to revisit or ignore or whatever it is you do with our strong and word-riddled opinions.
Now, the keen reader may notice I’ve had a bit of a productivity drop-off since about June. Well, that’s cause my wife gave birth to The Dolphlet, first of his name, and that’s kind of a lot of work, as I’m finding out. Baby comes first, as it goes. But I squeaked out a few important things, including a Coroner review that the unwashed masses claimed didn’t jerk Tommy Baron and co. as full of glee as it should have. I did miss other important things, like several of my list items.2. And I sincerely apologize to the following bands and offer them words of condolence or, something like that, based upon their individual situation: Bonginator, you should be glad I dropped the ball, stop it with the lame interludes; and count your blessings, Hell Ever After, thrash doesn’t need to be a musical; Species, you did thrash right though and I’m happy that others enjoyed you even more; Moths, and more specifically bassist Weslie Negron, I’m sorry that I took on your interview when my son was one month old and my brain was fried—your album rocks and you put in so much work to make Moths special. And lastly, to all the classics, I had grand plans to YMIO because I thought my brain could make that work—haha.3
Angry Metal Guy, however, remains home for me. You, dear readers, are a part of that love and drive that keep me here. Sometimes, I may only be able to conjure a half-funny joke in the comments section—you laugh (let me believe that) and give it two to five likes. Others, I may hype the heck out of a promising underground act until one of my trusted colleagues tells me “Dolph, that’s enough already, I’ll review it, sheesh.”—you liked it probably more than I did anyway. You see, for every word of bleeding hyperbole that we scribble, two sets of eyes may walk away enraptured. When you’re dealing with artists who have anywhere from sub-100 to 30004 listeners on the popularity engine of Spotify, every set counts. Every purchase on Bandcamp or Ampwall counts. Every stream on Tidal or some other competitor counts. Even your damn scrobble on last.fm counts if you’re nerdy enough for that. So sappy as it may seem, along with the herding efforts of Steel and occasionally The Big Dr. AMG Man Himself, you all give life to the bands in this wonderful modern metal scene. Hails!!
#ish. Messa // The Spin – I can’t rid myself of the power that a soaring bluesy lick and a smoky siren voice hold, no matter how I try. Burned into my head are The Spin’s glassy chorused-out chorus escalations. Drenched into the cones of my crackling car speakers are the synth throbs of certified shakers “Fire on the Roof” and “Thicker Blood.” Turn up the volume and turn down the lights, Messa has come to steal attention with yet another platter of throwback creativity.
#10. Quadvium // Tetradōm – Steve DiGiorgio and Jeroen Paul Thesseling stand at the altar of supreme metal bassists in my own personal head canon. They’d helm yours too if you were familiar with the span of their collective talents across acts like Death, Sadus, Autopsy, (DiGiorgio), and Pestilence, Obscura, Sadist (Thesseling). Knowing all this, they decided to make an album together. And in their refinement as performers, they managed to make a supergroup two-bass project more than just a thumpy wankfest. Full of diverse and rich tones, modern and proggy jitteriness, and a rounded, jazz fusion-leaning taste for exploration, Tetradōm provides an exciting notch in the weathered belt of these legends. I don’t know where Quadvium goes next after this, but I hope that it’s anything but dormant.
#9. Scardust // Souls – Every time I hear the introductory stumble of “Long Forgotten Song,” I fall immediately into the spastic and serenading world that Scardust crafts with their hypermelodic, histrionic, and confident progressive metal attitude. Central to this success remains the peerless Noa Gruman, whose every melody lands with honey-slathered tack and sing-a-long inspiration, despite my voice being a far, far cry away from the searing soprano wail that functions as a mic-drop crescendo as often as it needs to. Behind her, though, lies one of modern prog’s most nimble rhythm sections, imbuing even ballads like “Dazzling Darkness” and “Searing Echoes” with a bass-popping and hi-hat chattering clamor that places Souls in a league of its own. Also, Ross Jennings of Haken sounds better here than he has with Haken since The Mountain.
#8. Chiasma // Reaches – Chiasma possesses the unique ability to blend in with the modern paradigm of accessible melody prog in the lane of a band like Tesseract without conforming to its most djentrified tendencies. Rather, floating in its own swirl of Cynic-coded riffage and angelic, layered vocal excess, Reaches explodes with atmosphere and propulsive riff alike. In Katie Thompson’s nimble serenades rests a voice imbued with both a fluttering prowess and an aching heart. And in this sorrow—wrapped in the brightness of bleeping electronic backings, flipping virtuosic guitar runs, and singular voice—a yearning and healing takes place in fervent and fluorescent splendor.
#7. Dawnwalker // The Between – Just when I thought Dawnwalker didn’t have any more surprises left in their bag of tricks that seem tailor-made for my enjoyment,5 these sneaky Brits went and pulled out the one-long-song album. Continuing to live in the space of esoteric philosophy set forth in The Unknowing last year, Dawnwalker collects moods from all their previous works—the melancholy of isolation from In Rooms, the vocal aggression from Human Ruins, a sonic palette even grander in scope than Ages—to explore thoughts surrounding death. In lush construction, plaintive discourse, and time-bending magic, The Between breathes as a meditation bookended by heavy chiming bells—a journey that feels longer than its svelte 30-ish minute runtime but with none of the fatigue its gargantuan ask threatens. 6
#6. Gorycz // Zasypia – It’s a shame that Gorycz isn’t a household name, as their mystical, groovy approach to atmospheric and retching black metal sits among my favorites in the genre as a whole. Zasypia, as part three of a trilogy, tells a tale of despair through a warping pedalboard light on traditional distortion, shrieking throat on the edge of coherence,7 and dancing kit full of jazzy aplomb. In the space that lives between recursive and developing refrains, terror lurks. But in the Gorycz tattered exhale hangs a reverence for the beauty that can emerge from destruction and grieving. Feel every amplified string creak as you fall deeper into this devastating world.
#5. Lychgate // Precipice – You may be aware that this album was released on the 19th of December, a full two days after we were supposed to turn in these lists. Knowing that, I made sure I beat Precipice to the punch of garbage time list upheaval by listening to it, well, before that. In turn, Lychgate made sure that they’d make this late-season blooming count. With the death-thrash spirit of an early Morbid Angel crashing through low-end organ harmony and colliding with Holdsworthian alien guitar bleating, Precipice holds back neither on its urge to wander in arcane atmosphere nor on its urge to churn bodies in kinetic wonder. As another writer (whose name I can’t remember) said, Precipice ensnares by “…oscillating between Zappa’s Jazz from Hell and unearthly, pit-scorching acrobatics.” I couldn’t have put it better myself.8
#4. Barren Path // Grieving – The best grindcore album of the decade so far would come from the manic attack of Gridlink sans Jon Chang. Absent his terrifying shriek, Matsubara’s guitar scatter weighs heavier, Fajarado’s lightning snare rolls clang sharper, all against song lengths that inhabit the true short-form tradition of extreme brevity. The truth is, I’ve spent longer than the album’s length trying to convey its intensity and prowess, so just go and listen to it already. I’ll wait here. No, seriously, do it.
#3. Turian // Blood Quantum Blues – So very rare is the album that aligns like a key to a lock of a heart torn by generational angst. An eloquence exists in the disparity between Turian’s stark societal observations punctuated by raw emotional interjections of “FUCK”. I haven’t bothered to count the instances that this linguistic escalation occurs, but I guarantee that there are more fucks per stanza on Blood Quantum Blues than your favorite album this year. And, after you’ve become addicted to its overdriven noise rock-meets-hardcore-meets-industrial madness, you’ll know every single one as you shout along its contemptuous tales of cultural erasure. Indians don’t vanish, and neither will my love for every riff, every breakdown, and every tirade of Blood Quantum Blues.
#2. Changeling // Changeling – Tom “Fountainhead” Geldschläger poured everything into Changeling. Arranging over thirty performers across Changeling’s seems Sisyphean in scope, but Geldschläger persevered. Through peerless fretless wailings, every instrument under the sun follows well-developed motifs, and a pure love for metal, Changeling expresses nostalgia and novelty in its every loaded nook and cranny. And behind each moment of dense and exuberant songcraft, Geldschläger has tinkered to deliver an experience that feels carved over a lifetime. On top of all of that, Geldschläger is also a true guitar wizard—he zigs and zags and twists and twirls where others wear a scale to death. Like a classic novel or movie, Changeling reveals its worth both in immediate, jaw-dropping action and deep, attention-stealing detail. Geldschläger even put together a Dolby Atmos mix for the album and held listening parties in Berlin. I hear they’re wonderful. Come to California, Tom!
#1. Maud the Moth // The Distaff – When we seek art, we seek bravery and freedom of expression. And in the music that we seek in a refuge like Angry Metal guy, we often find these qualities expressed in emotional theme, in raw, sonic aggression, or in sweeping guitar-led grandeur. Woven from a different base cloth, Maud the Moth on paper does not fit that mold. Amaya López-Carromero wields, instead, a piano and scrawled diary pages. She, too, has pain, the same as any human who has encountered a world unforgiving to a life that wishes to live in a divergent path. And like the artists we value—or rather, like the artists I value—Amaya presents her vision of this struggle with focused and expanding melodic lines, crushing and crying crescendos, and an earnestness that compels its audience to surrender for a moment to a world created by these musical ideas. When your sadness comes, it won’t weep in blacks and ivories the way that The Distaff does. But you can pop it on and pretend for its run that its triumph will transfer from your ears to the very center of your tingling chest.
Honorable Mentions:
- Pissgrave // Malignant Worthlessness – Tempos that flow like a full sewage pipe and riffage that doesn’t let up until the steaming and warped conclusion. The Pissgrave family flows as one heaving death-fueled machine, and it’s sad to see them close shop. But they left us with a monster of a swansong.
- Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Pummeling and emotionally resonant—if a bit ham-fisted in some lyrical choices—Tooth and Nail represents the ideal form so far of what Dormant Ordeal can achieve with their gut-wrenching take on the Polish death metal sound.
- Sterveling // Sterveling – The backdrop of black metal on what is otherwise downcast jam music makes for a combo that is both hypnotic and uncontested in the space. It helps that the vocalist lets out some of the most demented howls I’ve heard this year.
- 夢遊病者 // РЛБ30011922 – Speaking of jam music, 夢遊病者 has, over time, morphed from a more frenetic math rock-indebted experience to this current, flowing state of progressive tone porn. 2025 was a good year for the one-song album. And much like Dawnwalker’s The Between, it takes up about thirty minutes and some change. Restraint, class, and fat bass heaven.
- Aversed // Erasure of Color – I’m not normally one for melodic death metal. But when it comes packaged with this much mic vitriol and a neoclassical sense that reminds me of the late, great Nevermore,9 I pay attention. And I spin it again and again and again—constant rotation since arrival.
- Yellow Eyes // Confusion Gate – Certain albums that come out late in the year suffer greatly because their true power lies in remaining interesting and unfolding over a long period of time. Immersion Trench Reverie is a special album, and Confusion Gate feels like its sequel. Comfy and caustic all at once.
- Moths // Septem – As the premier progressive metal band from Puerto Rico, Moths has a loaded mission to make a name for themselves. And with another album that keeps its runtime tight and its riffweight heavy, Septem deserves your attention for half an hour and then some. Hey, look, it’s on Ampwall too!
- Grayceon // Then the Darkness – Cello metal at its finest and most relatable. Despite advances in chamber inclusion throughout the metalsphere, not a single band sounds like Grayceon yet. And their songwriting quality remains so high that I don’t care that this album is just about eighty minutes.
- Helms Deep // Chasing the Dragon – There’s a dragon with a jetpack on the cover. I shouldn’t need to say more than that. But note also that Chasing the Dragon comes also loaded with rollicking ’80s flair and pentatonic guitar wizardry that’s so out of fashion it’s cool again. This is metal.
Disappointments o’ the Year:
- Suffering Hour // Impelling Rebirth and Umulamahri // Learning the Secrets of Acid – You’ll see more words about these later, cause they are great. And they are EPs. That’s not enough music when this quality exists.
Songs o’ the Year:
Why give you one when I can give you twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven? That’s my secret. Now, I’ve talked enough. Go out there and enjoy some music, friends. And enjoy this photo of my dogs eating. And the Dolphlet admiring them!
Thus Spoke
I’ve been blindsided by the year’s end again, and now have to find some interesting things to say about 2025. Other than the fact that I turned 3010, my main personal Thing ov Significance is that I managed to land myself a new job, which I’ll start in the new year.11 Don’t worry, though, I won’t be girl-bossing too hard to have time for AMG.
Musically, 2025 has been a (small) step down from 2024 for me, although this could just be due to my attention deficit. I’ve had my finger less firmly on the pulse in the last six months, such that several albums, by artists I like, many on this list, either took me completely by surprise on release day, or crossed my radar barely any sooner, thanks to me actually checking Slack for once. I don’t have any well-defined excuse for this outside of plain old burnout plus terrible organization. On the other hand, the fact that I didn’t review most of my favorite records this year means that I can bat away criticisms of self-indulgence by having a year-end list mostly comprised of albums I didn’t write about. One thing I am happy to have achieved this year is running my first AMG Ranking piece on Panopticon. It might be the most verbose and least exciting of its kind for the majority of site readers, but being forced to immerse myself that extensively in the discography of an artist I love was very cool (albeit intense).
Speaking of my own erratic presence at HQ, leads me on to the hiatus (official or not) of several wonderful people among the staff, particularly my list-buddy Maddog, whom I miss very much. They all have good reasons, and I support them immensely, even if it means fewer of their excellent reviews. Fortunately, we’ve also welcomed many newcomers to our ranks who can pick up my slack in their stead, and whose reviews help me improve my own writing whilst also appending to the endless list of Things I Must Listen To.
As my extensive yapping here shows, my ability to meet a word count hasn’t improved much. Before finally moving on to the list, I’ll take the chance to reiterate my gratitude for everyone reading this, and some people who might not be. Thank you to all the staff for collectively making this all possible, and giving me the opportunity to speak about music and for people—you guys—to actually read it. Thank you for reading. Even if our tastes are completely opposed and you think I’m wrong about everything, I’m glad you’re here.
Now for the bit people actually care about.
#ish. Panopticon // Songs of Hiraeth – Quietly12 released alongside Laurentian Blue, Songs of Hiraeth is a collection of songs composed between 2009-2011 that never saw the light of day. In it, you can hear the incredible development of Panopticon’s signature emotionally swelling black metal style in this period, and this record, like virtually all of them, as I repeated in my ranking blurbs, is gorgeously, absorbingly heartfelt and powerful. Unlike you might expect, it actually increases in intensity as it progresses (for me), with the final trifecta of “The End is Drawing Near,” “A Letter,” and “The Eulogy” all gunning for my Songs o’ the Year playlist with first devastating rage and fury, then heartbroken solemnity and sublime melody throughout. I guess it’s not fully in the list purely because it’s not a ‘proper’ new release, or whatever.
#10. Grima // Nightside – It could have been easy to forget about Grima, given its dropping right on the cusp of the stacked Spring release season we had this year, and the fact that I didn’t instantly mark it down for a TYMHM as with Clouds. But I didn’t forget. Despite their wintry aesthetic, Grima’s music warms my heart with folky magic and ardent blackened blizzards. Nightside is no exception, its warmth coming this time from a renewed emphasis on the atmosphere and bayan after the higher energies of Frostbitten. I love intense, harsh, frosty black metal, and I love how Grima do it (“Impending Death Premonition,” “Where We are Lost”). But what I love most of all about Grima is how they pair that with their folky tendencies, and the way—as Sharky pointed out—Vilhelm’s rasps graze over it all. This culminates, for me, in the more mournful and urgent tone of several tracks on Nightside, where intense moments still feel dreamlike (“The Nightside”), and vocals breathe like ghostly whispers (“Mist and Fog”). It’s not my favorite Grima record (that’s probably Rotten Garden), but being a Grima record at all, given their caliber, means it’s bloody great and has to be on my list.
#9. Bianca // Bianca – Here’s an excellent example of a record I very likely would never have heard were it not for the AMG writer community. And wow, am I grateful I did. Ken‘s description alone caught my interest, let alone the tidbit that the project includes two members of another 2025 favorite of mine, Patristic.13 It takes familiar concepts from metal, both post—ethereal atmospheres and haunting singing—and extreme—sky-piercing shrieks, undulating, relentless double-bass, and tangled guitar blizzards—but sounds like nothing else. Even in combining these elements, Bianca stands alone. The coalescence of blackened, doomed, ambient layers is mesmerizing, the pitches upward into mania, and lapses back into mournful mystique, captivating. Throat-gripping furor arrests me more inextricably than almost anything else this year (“Abysmal,” “Nachthexe”), and transcendent melodies forged from this black fire lift me fully out of my body (“Abysmal,” “Todestrieb”). I’ve been in love since.
#8. Der Weg Einer Freiheit // Innern – Innern’s influence on me was subtle and insidious. I would just put it on, be absorbed—or be sucked back in periodically, if I was working and not concentrating on it—and suddenly it would end. Then I’d listen to it again. Der Weg Einer Freiheit has been developing their particular intense, dark, atmospheric kind of (post-) black over the last decade or so, and with Innern, it’s approaching an apex. Through endlessly enveloping compositions, filled with fury and urgency (“Marter”) or solemn reflection and introspection (“Eos,” “Forlorn”), that flow seamlessly out of one another, Innern folds you insidiously into its depths. Compelling melodies, dynamic rushing percussion, and here-dramatic, there-soft-spoken vocals, each taking pieces and incorporating trials from Der Weg Einer Freiheit’s career so far, drive the thematic compositional thread through irresistibly. From the anticipatory opening shudders to the ebbing chords at its close, Innern is an experience best taken whole, and one I’ve indulged in countless times to go on this magnetic journey once again.
#7. Paradise Lost // Ascension – I never thought this would land here when first announced. Sure, I like Paradise Lost, but their back-catalog is so mixed (in style, let alone quality), that ‘liking’ them for me comes down to enjoying a handful of their now 17 albums. Even the singles’ being good failed to stir anything more than curiosity, given my experience with intra-album inconsistency. But when Ascension did finally grace my ears in full, it appropriately transcended any doubts and softened my heart towards these doom icons again.14 Paradise Lost were heavy again, melancholic and mopey again—in a cool, atmospheric way—and Ascension just flowed, with grungy aggression and sadboi introspection in perfect equilibrium. This easy, natural duality that characterizes Gothic metal, and Paradise Lost themselves as genre pioneers, when they’re at the top of their game, is exemplified in Ascension. Hopefully, the group can stay on this trajectory for number 18, if that comes.
#6. Clouds // Desprins – I don’t understand how Clouds are as good as they are. I mean this as no insult to the musicians; what stuns me is the depth of pathos, and the consistency with which they deliver it, given the relatively understated and idiosyncratic manner in which they execute it. Their characteristic flute-folk-funeral doom is so ethereally, painfully sad without being overwrought, melodramatic, or crushing. It took my n00bish breath away four years ago, and this year Desprins came and took it again; this time with pieces of my soul attached. The music is just so beautiful—unrelentingly bleak, but beautiful, and Clouds’ balance of the dark and the light through the synths and acoustics, and apathetic spoken-word is exquisite and deeply affecting. These composite melodies, swelling and trilling softly, are transportive for me—particularly “Life Becomes Lifeless,” “Chain Me,” “Sorrowbound,” and “Chasing Ghosts.” Desprins is everything I want funeral doom to be: a prolonged dream-state of melancholy that paradoxically brings me joy.
#5. Deafheaven // Lonely People with Power – I have never been a Deafheaven fan. In all honesty, I’m still not. Lonely People with Power fires me up and fills my soul, while the rest of their discography continues to leave me completely cold. It seems that, briefly departing from metal entirely with Infinite Granite, has matured their sound, adding layers to their edgy blackgaze. Even when indifferent, I never understood the scorn their music generates, and now that I’ve fallen for Lonely People with Power, it makes even less sense. Not only is the way Deafheaven are combining rich, beautiful melodies with—yes—brilliant black metal simply lovely to listen to, slick, seamless, sharp, etc, it’s also distinctive and engrossing. That’s before even getting into how emotionally resonant it is. And it’s not even like this means it can’t be heavy—heck, one of these tracks is on my Heavy Moves Heavy playlist. It’s not ‘cringe’; it’s a phenomenal record and one of the best to release this year.
#4. 1914 // Viribus Unitis – I have always been most moved—emotionally and aesthetically—by 1914’s brand of WWI-themed blackened-death than any other like act. Viribus Unitis somehow outdoes Where Fear and Weapons Meet, and possibly all of the band’s previous efforts, for evocativeness and being straightforward and compelling. From the now hallmark bookends “War In/Out” to frequent samples to lyrics infused with real soldier testimony, Viribus Unitis envelops the listener in this portal to the past through 1914’s most powerful, urgently melodic compositions. Every song is heavy, dramatic, and snappy in just the right amounts, resulting in a series of back-to-back bangers that also occasionally really, really hit home emotionally. “1918 Pt 3: ADE (A duty to escape)” does all the above to perfection and has received an almost embarrassing number of replays in the short time since release. But “1919 (The Home where I Died)” did actually make me cry,15 and its fade into “War Out” is the perfect end to the monumental achievement Viribus Unitis represents.
#3. Patristic // Catechesis – It seems that every year, I review one particular atmospheric-dissonant death metal record which dominates my listening in that subgenre, and instantly secures a year-end list spot. In 2023, Serpent of Old, last year Ulcerate16, and this year Patristic. Catechesis was an immediate, visceral love for me, and not once since June has it left rotation. Sinister and dark, but irresistible in its seamlessly flowing, captivating macro-composition narrated by roars and solemn sermonizing; it ends far too soon. And in addition to being beautifully atmospheric and magnetic in melody and dissonance alike, it stands out for truly insane performances in their own right. Specifically, the drumming, which continues to blow my mind and propels Catechesis from greatness into excellence with hypnotic, intelligent rhythmic interplay. Patristic’s uncanny ability to make extreme, inaccessible music incomprehensibly engrossing and a magnificent expression of its concept are why I can’t stop listening to Catechesis, and why it’s almost the best record of 2025.
#2. Qrixkuor // The Womb of the World – Much like reviewer Kenstrosity, whereas Qrixkuor’s debut Poison Palinopsia rewired my brain with its brilliance, I found follow-up Zoetrope a tad underwhelming. When said sponge began to hint, and then gush unstoppably about the duo’s second full-length, The Womb of the World, which was in his possession, vague hope turned to giddy excitement. Not only the twisted, psychedelic horror of their signature freeform blackened death would await me, but also a full live orchestra. Yet I still don’t think anything could have adequately prepared me for how massive and mad The Womb of the World actually is. With the strings, horns, and piano swooping and crashing about in great surges and falls, Qrixkuor’s already grandiose style fully feels like some tormented classical opus, and it’s utterly magnificent. Things so small as my words can’t do justice to the way the eerie and intense lurching orchestrals, maniacal snarling voices, and cavernous extreme metal combine to create some of the best things I have ever heard, ever. Weirdly memorable and violently compelling despite its monstrosity, I’ve become completely addicted to it since. Ken himself said, it is “a mastapeece for those to whom sanity is immaterial,” when he rightfully deemed it ‘Excellent’. If I must rescind soundness of mind to so esteem The Womb of the World, I will do so gladly.
#1. Cave Sermon // Fragile Wings – Last year, Divine Laughter went from unknown to #5 on my year-end list in about 2 weeks, so when I found out there was a follow-up—thanks to my new Flippered list buddy—I dropped everything.17 My stratospheric expectations were not only met, but they were lifted into outer space. I would fear for Cave Sermon’s ability to deliver in the future, but Fragile Wings itself dismisses any trepidation. So recognizably, uniquely Cave Sermon, it displays a new, more uplifting interpretation of their sound. A commenter pointed out the lack of reference to So Hideous in my review, and in retrospect, I see their point, at least in degree: the two projects are similarly experimental and impressively novel-sounding without actually feeling avant-garde. But there is just something about Cave Sermon that puts them in an entirely different category of genius—for me. Fragile Wings is playful but not silly; it’s complex but memorable, groovy, and fun; it’s dissonant and strange, but it’s organic, harmonious, and digestible. The idea that just one person is behind this18 makes it that much more mind-blowing. At this rate, there could well be another Cave Sermon record next year, and on the current trajectory, it may finally land this fantastic artist the official Iconic status they have always deserved.
Honorable Mentions:
- Dormant Ordeal // Tooth and Nail – Hands-down my favorite Dormant Ordeal album so far. Heavy, groovy, and eminently-listenable, it really got its claws into me—especially during gym sessions shortly after release. It did fall out of my rotation quite substantially, in favor of its rivals above, thus putting it here.
- Primitive Man // Observance – When Observance dropped, and I was listening for the first time, I badly tried to describe Primitive Man to my partner (not a metal fan) over WhatsApp as “being crushed by a big rock really slowly, but in a good way.” Obviously, they didn’t know what I was on about, but Spicie Forrest seems to with his much better analogy of “being imprisoned and forgotten in a lightless pit.” Primitive Man has always made silly-heavy, scary-huge music, but Observance clicked with me like nothing else in their discography prior. I am indeed helplessly crushed and held prisoner.
- Blut Aus Nord // Ethereal Horizons – I think if this had dropped just a tiny bit earlier, it could have ended up on my list proper. Blut Aus Nord has always been one of those artists I know I do enjoy, but for some reason has never fully clicked for me. Ethereal Horizons felt immediately more enthralling. It’s more atmospheric, more darkly melodic, more blackened in its heaviness, and through it all, possibly more frightening.
Songs of the Year
- Cave Sermon – “Ancient for Someone”
- Panopticon – “A Letter”
- Panopticon – “The Poppies Bloom For No King”
- Patristic – “A Vinculis Soluta II”
- Qrixkuor – “The Womb of the World”
- Bianca – “Abysmal”
- Deafheaven – “The Garden Route”
- Nephylim – “Amaranth”
- Clouds – “Sorrowbound”
- 1914 – “1918 Pt 3 A.D.E (A Duty to Escape)”
- Der Weg Einer Freiheit – “Marter”
- Primitive Man – “Natural Law”
#1914 #2025 #Aversed #BarrenPath #Bianca #BlogPosts #BlutAusNord #CaveSermon #Changeling #Chiasma #Clouds #Dawnwalker #Deafheaven #DerWegEinerFreiheit #DolphinWhisperSAndThusSpokeSTopTenIshOf2025 #DormantOrdeal #Gorycz #Grayceon #Grima #HelmsDeep #Lists #Lynchgate #MaudTheMoth #Messa #Mothers #Nephylim #Panopticon #ParadiseLost #Patristic #Pissgrave #PrimitiveMan #Qrixkuor #Quadvium #Scardust #Sterveling #SufferingHour #Turian #YellowEyes #夢遊病者 -
Reading the Lattice Without the Legend: Grinberg, Syntergy, and the Argument for Real Entry
A scientist walks out of his office in Mexico City on December 8, 1994, and never walks back in. The man is Jacobo Grinberg-Zylberbaum, forty-eight years old, a UNAM-trained neurophysiologist with a doctorate from New York Medical College, the author of a stack of monographs on consciousness, and the last serious researcher to claim that the human brain could be wired into a holographic substrate of reality he called the Lattice. He had spent years measuring electroencephalographic correlations between separated human subjects. Two months before he vanished, he published a paper in Physics Essays arguing that pairs of subjects, separated inside semisilent Faraday chambers fourteen and a half meters apart, showed brain activity that mirrored stimulation given to only one of them. Then he was gone. The laboratory was found. Several notes were missing. His wife, who had cause to suspect him of an affair and a documented history of violence, became a person of interest and was never charged. Mexican press cycled through the story for years. Mystics and conspiracy theorists folded the disappearance into the theory, as if the man had stepped sideways into his own hypothesis.
I want to take the legend apart and see what is left.
The Lattice, in Grinberg’s framing, refuses the picture of space that physics offers. Space, in Syntergic Theory, behaves as a high-coherence informational matrix. The brain produces what he called a “neuronal field” that interacts with the Lattice the way a film negative interacts with a beam of light, decoding a hologram. Reality, in this picture, gets read off a substrate that already contains every point in space, every moment in time, and every state of consciousness. The brain becomes one of many possible decoders. High coherence, the kind Grinberg believed he saw in expert meditators and in the Mexican curandera he studied for years (Bárbara Guerrero, known as Pachita), allowed certain brains to interact with the Lattice directly. Telepathy followed from that interaction. Remote viewing came next. Materialization, in the most extreme reading of Pachita’s psychic surgery, sat at the far end of the same continuum.
This is a beautiful theory. It is also, as stated, almost entirely unfalsifiable.
The temptation, when you encounter writing like this, is to either swallow it whole or dismiss it whole. Both responses are lazy. The work has a testable core and a metaphysical shell, and the two need to be separated before anything useful can be said about either.
The testable core is the transferred potential experiment. Two people interact for twenty minutes. They are placed in electromagnetically shielded rooms separated by a distance that rules out ordinary signaling. Only one subject of each pair is stimulated by one hundred light flashes. An EEG records evoked potentials in the stimulated subject. A second EEG records the unstimulated subject. Grinberg and his coauthors, including the theoretical physicist Amit Goswami, claimed that when the stimulated subject showed distinct evoked potentials, the nonstimulated subject showed “transferred potentials” similar to those evoked in the stimulated subject. They titled the 1994 paper “The Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen Paradox in the Brain,” and they proposed that the brain has a macroscopic quantum component capable of nonlocal correlation across distance.
If the effect were real and robust, it would rank among the most important findings in the history of neuroscience. So what does the replication record show?
Leanna Standish and colleagues at Bastyr University and the University of Washington repeated the design in 2003 and 2004, recording simultaneous EEGs from pairs of subjects placed in sound-attenuated rooms separated by ten meters, later extending the work to fMRI. They reported small correlations in some pairs, statistically above chance, broadly consistent with Grinberg’s direction. A 2018 re-analysis by groups at IULM in Milan and the University of Padova, applying machine-learning classifiers to two pooled datasets covering forty-five pairs, found classification accuracies of 50.74 percent on the first dataset and 51.17 percent, 50.45 percent, and 51.91 percent across stimulation conditions on the second. The honest reading of those numbers is that there is, at best, a faint signal above noise, on the order of one to two percent above chance, and that the signal does not hold up under stricter analytical methods. The “one in four pairs” claim from the original paper is the kind of effect size that thins out when sample sizes grow and protocols tighten. The result might be noise. It might be small and real. The data, after thirty years, cannot tell us which.
The Lattice does not announce itself in clean experimental data. What announces itself is a smear of weakly positive results, sensitive to method, sample, and the personal coherence of the experimenters and subjects. A smear of that kind, in any other branch of biology, would be treated as a candidate artifact rather than a candidate discovery.
So where are the weak spots in Grinberg’s argument? I count five.
The first concerns decoherence. Quantum entanglement is fragile. It survives at extremely low temperatures, in highly isolated systems, in laboratories where engineers work for years to prevent contact with the surrounding environment. The human brain operates at 310 Kelvin, immersed in saltwater, packed with thermal vibration and electrochemical traffic. The mainstream physical objection to any macroscopic quantum brain is that entangled states cannot last long enough at body temperature to do anything cognitively useful. Roger Penrose and Stuart Hameroff have proposed microtubules inside neurons as a possible shelter for such states, and that proposal has critics of its own. Grinberg borrowed the language of EPR correlation without supplying a physical mechanism that addresses decoherence at all.
Venue makes a second weakness. Physics Essays publishes heterodox work. It is peer-reviewed, but it is not Physical Review Letters. Goswami, the coauthor who supplied the quantum framework, is a theoretical physicist whose later career was spent largely outside academic physics, writing for general audiences on consciousness. David Bohm, whose Wholeness and the Implicate Order Grinberg cited as foundational, was taken seriously by working physicists in a way that Goswami’s idealist consciousness work has not been. None of this disqualifies Grinberg’s results. It does qualify the weight one should give them before independent replication settles the question.
Pachita is a third problem. Grinberg believed he was watching a high-coherence shaman manipulate the Lattice when he observed the curandera apparently materializing tissue and performing organ transplants without anesthesia. The skeptical literature on psychic surgery is well developed, going back to James Randi’s documentation of Filipino practitioners in the 1970s and 1980s. The techniques are reproducible by stage magicians using animal tissue concealed in the hand. I do not claim that Pachita was fraudulent. I claim that Grinberg’s failure to engage with that literature on his own observations was a methodological gap large enough to fall through.
A fourth weakness sits in the unfalsifiability of the Lattice itself. The transferred potential is testable. The claim that space is a holographic informational matrix decoded by the brain is, as currently stated, not testable in any sharp way. The interpretation can absorb any outcome by adjusting what counts as coherence. A theory closed to refutation has crossed out of science and into philosophy, where Bohm’s implicate order belongs and where Grinberg’s Syntergic Theory should be argued.
The fifth weakness is the disappearance, which has worked as an evidentiary force-multiplier in the opposite direction the mystics imagine. Because the man vanished, the work is treated as forbidden knowledge. Because the work is treated as forbidden, it is shielded from the ordinary correction processes of science. The romance of the vanishing has done more damage to the theory than any single critic ever could.
That is the harsh audit. Here is what survives it.
What survives is a serious twentieth-century researcher who took indigenous practitioners seriously when most of his peers would not, who designed and ran controlled experiments on a phenomenon his discipline refused to study, who published in peer-reviewed venues with a theoretical physicist as coauthor, and whose specific empirical claim of brain-to-brain correlation across electromagnetic shielding has been independently tested by university laboratories in the United States and Europe with weakly positive but unconvincing results. The Lattice as cosmology fails the audit, while the transferred potential as a research program clears it.
Which brings me to the question worth taking seriously. What would real entry into the Lattice look like, if Grinberg’s empirical claim deserves another hearing?
Entry would begin by separating Syntergic cosmology from transferred-potential empiricism, permanently. The cosmology is interesting as a philosophical proposition and belongs in the philosophy of mind, alongside Bohm, Whitehead, and the slow-burning literature on panpsychism. The empiricism is interesting as a falsifiable claim and demands the methodological rigor the original work lacked. That means preregistered protocols, pair samples in the hundreds rather than the dozens, blinded analysis, machine-learning classifiers reported with confidence intervals, datasets shared openly, and a pre-committed null hypothesis the field will accept if the signal fails to clear it. The work has been creeping in that direction for twenty years, slowly, in the parapsychology literature and in a small set of medical schools. It needs to migrate into mainstream cognitive neuroscience or it will live on the margins forever.
Mechanism comes next. Holographic metaphors are not mechanisms. A specific physical proposal must explain how two brains separated by fifteen meters of air and steel could correlate at all. Decoherence is the wall. Until someone proposes a mechanism that survives a hostile physics seminar, the empirical results, even if they hold up, will be read as artifact rather than discovery. Penrose and Hameroff at least attempted a mechanism. Grinberg never did, and the field has not done it for him in the thirty years since.
Last, we would have to give up the romance of the vanishing. Grinberg probably did not step into his own theory. The most likely reading of the available evidence is that he died in late 1994, in circumstances Mexican authorities never resolved, with attention focused on his immediate domestic situation. The investigation failed. The case remains open. As long as his disappearance functions as evidence for his theory, we are doing magical thinking under the cover of physics. A theory has to survive on its experimental record, not on the mystery of its author’s death.
Is any of this real, or possible? The transferred potential, in its weak form, might be real. The Lattice, as Grinberg drew it, is most likely not real in the literal physical sense he intended. What is real is the underlying scandal that consciousness studies were starved of funding and respectability for most of the twentieth century, that a serious researcher who tried to bring rigor to the question was treated as fringe in his own lifetime, that he disappeared before he could finish his work, and that the field has only now begun to catch up to the questions he was asking.
If we want to enter the Lattice, the entry point is methodological, not mystical. We pick up where he left off. The testable parts get tested. Cosmology stands as a working metaphor that may, or may not, be redeemed by data. Above all, we resist the temptation to make the man’s death do the work that his experiments could not finish.
That is the only honest way to read him now.
#argument #entry #grinberg #hypothesis #integration #lattice #legend #philosophy #reality #remoteViewing #science #surgery #syntergy #theory -
Consciousness Explained Away: Daniel Dennett’s Illusionism and the Theory That Spends Its Own Foundation
When Daniel Dennett died on April 19, 2024, at the age of eighty-two, the philosophical world lost one of the last serious defenders of a position so counterintuitive that even sympathetic readers spent decades trying to talk themselves into it. Dennett argued, across more than fifty years of writing, that consciousness as we ordinarily understand it does not exist. The reds and greens you see, the texture of cool water against the palm, the sense that there is somebody home behind your eyes reading these words: all of it, on Dennett’s account, is what he called a user illusion, a simplified internal model the brain generates for navigation purposes, with no inner light behind it and no observer to whom the show is being staged. The position is called illusionism, and it remains the strongest possible challenge to the panpsychism we considered in the previous article on Iain McGilchrist. If Dennett was right, McGilchrist’s whole project rests on a misdescription of what we are.
The essay that follows takes Dennett’s position seriously enough to argue with it. Treating illusionism as obvious nonsense, the way much of the philosophical commentariat does, is unworthy of the work he produced and bad for thinking. Treating it as established science, which his more enthusiastic defenders sometimes do, is a different mistake in the opposite direction. The honest position holds that Dennett gave us one of the most carefully developed materialist accounts of mind on offer, that significant portions of his work contributed real progress to cognitive science, and that the metaphysical core of illusionism collapses on close inspection in ways his admirers prefer not to discuss.
Begin with the position itself, stated as charitably as I can manage. Dennett’s 1991 Consciousness Explained developed what he called the Multiple Drafts model. Instead of a single inner stage where conscious experience plays out, he argued, the brain runs many parallel processes that compete and revise one another in real time. There is no Cartesian Theater, no master audience, no central self watching the show. What we call consciousness is an emergent narrative effect, a kind of running editorial composite produced by neural activity that has no privileged location and no privileged moment of conscious recognition. Asking when something becomes conscious is like asking exactly when a manuscript becomes finished while it is still being edited by twenty hands at once. The question presumes a unity that does not exist.
The illusionist refinement came later. In 2016, the philosopher Keith Frankish edited a special issue of the Journal of Consciousness Studies under the title “Illusionism as a Theory of Consciousness,” for which Dennett contributed a major essay called “Illusionism as the Obvious Default Theory of Consciousness.” The argument runs as follows. When you say “I am conscious of a red stripe,” what is happening is not that some inner film is playing redness for an inner viewer. What is happening is that your brain has constructed a representation of redness, and the representation reports itself as having phenomenal character it does not actually possess. Dennett borrowed Alan Kay’s term “user illusion” from computer science, where it described the desktop metaphor that lets users operate a machine whose real workings remain hidden. Consciousness, on this view, is the brain’s user illusion of itself.
The position commits Dennett to a startling consequence. There are no qualia, no raw feels, no phenomenal properties of experience. Philosophical zombies, the imagined creatures functionally identical to humans but with no inner experience, do not exist as a separate possibility from us, because all of us already are what zombies were supposed to be. We function and talk about our experiences. We act as if there is something it is like to be us. The inner light we imagine glowing behind our reports is not actually there. Dennett wrote, with characteristic mischief, that he was committed to the view that we are all philosophical zombies, adding immediately that the line should not be quoted out of context. It usually was.
Where the case works, it works for these reasons.
The argument is effective because the Cartesian Theater is genuinely incoherent. If you ask where in the brain the conscious moment happens, you find no such place. Cognitive neuroscience has searched for decades and located nothing resembling a master observer. Vision goes to the visual cortex. The auditory cortex processes sound. The prefrontal cortex coordinates working memory. Nowhere is there a screening room with a viewer in it, and the question “who is watching?” leads into infinite regress. Dennett’s destruction of the homunculus model was a real philosophical achievement and remains the cleanest available demolition of a picture most people hold without noticing they hold it.
It works also because Benjamin Libet’s experiments from the 1970s and 1980s established that neural preparation for a decision precedes conscious awareness of having made it by roughly three hundred milliseconds. The conscious self arrives at its own decisions slightly after the brain has already begun acting. This finding does not prove illusionism, but it strongly suggests that consciousness is less central to cognition than introspection reports. Whatever conscious experience is, it cannot be the executive director it feels like being.
A further strength: cognitive science has produced extensive evidence that introspection is unreliable as a guide to what the brain is doing. Change blindness experiments, inattentional blindness, the failure to notice major scene transitions, the brain’s confabulation of unified perception from broken inputs, all of this points toward a system that fabricates narrative coherence rather than reporting it. Daniel Kahneman’s two-system model, much of social psychology, and large stretches of cognitive neuroscience converge on the conclusion that the conscious self is told a story rather than told the truth. Dennett built his philosophy on this evidence and built it carefully.
Illusionism earns additional power because it does what philosophy of mind so rarely accomplishes: it makes empirical predictions. The position predicts that no matter how carefully we examine the brain, we will find no special phenomenal properties, no unbridgeable explanatory gap, only the increasing detail of computational and neural processes. This is testable in principle, falsifiable in principle, and more honest than positions that retreat to unanalyzable mystery whenever the science gets close.
Last, the program takes seriously the strangeness of the universe physics describes. There is no good reason to assume that ordinary human experience accurately reports the deep structure of reality. We did not evolve to perceive truth. We evolved to survive long enough to reproduce, and our perceptual and introspective apparatus was tuned for that purpose. Dennett’s willingness to follow the implication wherever it led is the mark of a serious philosophical mind.
The case carries equally serious weaknesses, however, and the weaknesses cluster around a single point that has dogged illusionism since its first formulation.
The argument is not effective because illusion presupposes consciousness. An illusion is a false appearance, and a false appearance requires a perceiver to whom the false appearance appears. To say consciousness is an illusion is to say there is something it is like to be deceived about consciousness, which means there is something it is like to be the system Dennett claims has no something-it-is-like-to-be. The American theologian David Bentley Hart put the objection sharply in his 2017 essay “The Illusionist,” published in The New Atlantis: you cannot suffer the illusion that you are conscious because illusions are possible only for conscious minds. The point is so obvious that Dennett’s defenders have spent thirty years trying to argue around it, and the arguments have grown increasingly baroque without ever quite touching the core of the objection.
It is also not effective because the redefinition trick is visible. When Dennett says consciousness is an illusion, he means consciousness as ordinarily described, with its qualia and its unified inner viewer. When he then says we are all functioning fine, that we have user illusions and multiple drafts and complex representations, he has reintroduced under different names exactly the phenomena he claimed to eliminate. Galen Strawson made this point with particular force, arguing that Dennett denies the existence of the data a theory of consciousness is supposed to explain, then offers a theory of something else and calls it a theory of consciousness. The maneuver is rhetorically powerful and philosophically empty.
A further weakness: the Cartesian Theater Dennett demolishes is a straw position most contemporary philosophers of mind do not hold. Phenomenal realists need not believe in a homunculus or a master viewer or a screening room in the head. They need only believe that there is something it is like to undergo experience, which is a far weaker claim than the picture Dennett spent his career attacking. By demolishing the strong version, he left the weak version intact while pretending he had demolished both. Thomas Nagel made the point in The New York Review of Books in March 2017, reviewing From Bacteria to Bach and Back: Dennett asks us to turn our backs on what is glaringly obvious, the immediate awareness of subjective experience, and offers in exchange a story about neural machinery that may all be true while leaving the original question untouched.
The position fails because it cannot account for the difference between systems that obviously experience something and systems that obviously do not. A thermostat represents the temperature. It models its environment. It adjusts behavior based on internal states. By Dennett’s lights, what makes the thermostat different from you is degree of complexity rather than presence or absence of inner life. If illusionism is right, your experience of pain is a more complex version of what the thermostat does when it registers cold. This consequence is so wildly at odds with what we know about pain that it functions as a reductio of the position rather than a confirmation of it. John Searle pressed this objection for decades, and Dennett never produced a response that satisfied anyone outside his immediate circle.
Last, illusionism cannot explain why the illusion exists in the first place. If consciousness is an evolutionary user-interface, why does it have phenomenal character at all? The question of why there is a felt redness rather than mere redness-detection is exactly the hard problem David Chalmers identified in 1995, and Dennett’s response was to deny that the question was real. Denying a question is not answering it. Other illusionists, including Frankish, have been more candid about this gap and acknowledged it as an outstanding problem for the program. Dennett tended to close the question by force of personality rather than by force of argument, and his defenders inherited the closure without inheriting the personality that made it almost convincing.
A specific paradox deserves separate treatment. Dennett’s commitment to philosophical zombies being identical with us is either trivially true or wildly false depending on which definition of zombie one uses. Under his own redefinition (a creature functionally indistinguishable from a human, with no extra non-physical properties), of course we are all zombies in his sense, because his sense is constructed precisely to include us. Under Chalmers’s original definition (a creature functionally identical but lacking phenomenal experience), the claim that we are all such creatures is the central thing in dispute, and Dennett’s announcement that we are all zombies amounts to declaring victory rather than achieving it. The wordplay is amusing. The argumentative work it pretends to do is fictional.
Where does this leave the project? Several genuine contributions survive the dismantling.
The Multiple Drafts model gave cognitive science a serviceable framework for thinking about how the brain produces unified-feeling experience from distributed parallel processing, even if the framework does not require illusionism as its metaphysics. The user illusion metaphor remains useful for describing how introspection misrepresents underlying neural activity, even if the metaphor cannot bear the metaphysical weight Dennett placed on it. His destruction of the Cartesian Theater counts as permanent philosophical progress, and any future theory of consciousness will need to accommodate Dennett’s critique whether it accepts his positive program or rejects it. His sustained engagement with cognitive science kept philosophy of mind close to the empirical work that ought to constrain it, and the field is healthier for the discipline he imposed.
What does not survive is the central claim. Consciousness is real in any standard sense of the word, since illusions themselves require conscious subjects. The hard problem cannot be dissolved by redescription, because redescription leaves the original problem intact under a new vocabulary. The experiential reds and greens and pains and hopes that fill our days are either real, in which case illusionism is false, or unreal, in which case the question of what is doing the reporting becomes urgent and unanswered.
Return now to the McGilchrist question with these results in hand. If illusionism fails at its center, the hard problem stands, and the panpsychist option becomes more attractive by a process of elimination, since materialist emergence and illusionist deflation have both encountered serious difficulty. This does not establish that McGilchrist is right. It establishes that his position belongs among the few options still on the table after the most ambitious materialist program of the late twentieth century has been worked through and found wanting at its center.
The deeper lesson concerns what philosophy can and cannot accomplish by argument alone. Dennett spent fifty years constructing what he called the obvious default theory of consciousness. He convinced a small circle of admirers, antagonized a larger circle of critics, and produced a body of work that will be read for a long time. None of it solved the hard problem. None of it could solve the hard problem, because the hard problem is what we are made of, and arguments about consciousness produced by conscious beings cannot get behind the consciousness that produces them. Dennett saw this difficulty and tried to argue it away. The honest verdict is that he failed, gracefully and intelligently, in a way that taught us a great deal about what success would require.
We owe him the courtesy of saying so out loud. He would have preferred direct refutation to polite agreement, and direct refutation is what the work deserves. The user illusion remains a useful metaphor and a serviceable instrument for cognitive science. As metaphysics it cannot hold. The inner light Dennett spent his career trying to extinguish is the one thing his arguments could not reach, because the arguments themselves arrived in consciousness, were read in consciousness, and were rejected or accepted in consciousness, and no maneuver of language can exit the medium in which the maneuver takes place.
We assume our own inwardness because we have nothing else to assume from. Dennett’s wager was that we could think our way past this assumption to a more austere description of reality. The wager was honorable, and it failed.
The argument from austerity has its own seductions, and we should name them. There is a certain kind of intellectual pride that takes pleasure in eliminating what others find precious, and Dennett was not immune to it. His writing carried a confident scorn for opponents that was less philosophical virtue than personal style, and the style propagated through his disciples in ways that have hurt rather than helped the program. A position that depends on the personality of its founder for its persuasive force is a position that has not yet earned the right to hold the field. Dennett’s work will outlive him. Whether illusionism survives without his voice carrying it remains to be seen, and the early evidence suggests not.
What we can take from him, what we should take from him, is the discipline of refusing to mystify. The hard problem is real, but real problems are not solved by reverence. Dennett’s failure was an honest failure pursued with rigor and wit, and the field needs more such failures and fewer of the soft evasions that pass for theory in the consciousness literature. If we end up disagreeing with everything he claimed, we still owe him the standard of work he set, and the willingness to argue all the way down rather than retreating into vocabulary that protects the question from being asked clearly. He asked it clearly. He answered it wrongly. Both halves of that judgment matter, and both halves are why he will be read after his answer is forgotten.
Part two of three. For the full sequence and reading guide, see The Consciousness Trilogy: Reading Three Wagers on the Question We Cannot Settle.
#argument #brain #consciousness #dennett #editorial #illusion #mcgilchrist #mystify #panpsychism #pathways #philosophy -
The thread about a Leith “Beggar’s Badge”; when the Scottish state sanctioned begging as a privilege for a select few
This thread was originally written and published in December 2020.
Today’s Auction House Artefact is this Leith beggar’s badge or token. It is inscribed on the front with an earlier version of the emblem from the Burgh coat of arms and motto Persevere. The date 1565 which refers to the date of Mary Queen of Scots writing permission for Leith to erect its Tolbooth, and on the back with “Leith Poor No. 10.” It’s not date stamped, but I would wager this is from the second half of the 19th century, given the better quality of the token, the style of the crest and the fact the Persevere motto does not appear in use until around the 1860s.
Front and rear of a Leith beggar’s badge. Move the slider to reveal each face.“The growth of a large class of beggars in medieval times led to the necessity for limiting the numbers of those
Jacques Callot, Family of Beggars, 17th century. CC-by-NC National Galleries Scotland
officially entitled to beg“. This was put into Scottish law by an Act of Parliament as early as 1424. Only those with a badge were allowed to beg, and it had to be worn on outer clothing. Begging was seen as a privilege for certain “deserving poor” and restricted to such charitable cases as widows, the aged or those with disabilities or injuries that precluded them from working.Anyone found begging without a badge was liable to be dealt with severely by vagrancy laws. Sheriffs would round up “masterless men” and arrest them – these might itinerants such as wood or wool gatherers. They would be given 40 days to find a master or craft, under pain of either imprisonment, banishment from the county (which may involve the hand being branded) or being sent into bonded labour such as coal mining or salt panning. “Egyptians” (gypsies) were in particular persecuted, being banished from Scotland if they did not renounce their itinerant ways. Landowners and heritors in the 17th and 18th century were subject to a tax called “Vagabond Money”, which was to pay for the employment of vagrants as labourers. The words vagabond and vagrant both come from the Latin vagari, to wander.
Parishes and burghs all over Scotland issued these badges, as they were responsible for the maintenance of their own poor. It allowed the bearer to beg in the burgh or parish that issued it, and protected them from the force of the vagrancy laws. The parishes and burghs were resentful of having to support “idle beggars” or “sturdy beggars” from other areas, and so wanted to be able to identify their own. Begging was thus an official and strictly controlled activity.
A blind beggar in Edinburgh, c. 1750. Sketch by Paul Sandby. © Trustees of the British Museum, Nn,6.35Beggar’s badges were generally lead, pewter, copper or some other easily cast, cheap metal. Stone and pasteboard are also recorded. Not many survive, they usually have a serial number. Dates are less common and the holder’s name is almost never seen. There are at least four further Leith badges in public collections. The National Museum of Scotland lists three. Two are shown below, the third is described as “A lead circle, featuring the arms of Leith, similar to the one at the start of the thread, numbered No. 9“:
A lead oval, featuring the arms of Leith (below left), numbered No. 5A clipped lead oblong from from the 18th century, one round and one oval, numbered No. 7 (below right)I believe the Hunterian collection in Glasgow has a No. 4. And there are a wide range of other designs from across Scotland. Interestingly, as far as I’m aware no tokens from the 2 largest burghs (Edinburgh and Glasgow) are known to survive, this may be because they were melted down and recycled whenever they were renewed.
18th century Tokens from Adrrossan, Ayr, Alves, Conveth, Coupar Angus, Crieff, Croy and ellon.The other authority which could issue beggar’s token was the Crown. Such “King’s Bedesmen” were first appointed by King James VI. They were commonly known as Blue Gowns, on account of the official cloak that they were issued with, or Jockies. They had a lodge house outside the city of Edinburgh; the Jockies Lodge – this is where the neighbourhood of Jock’s Lodge takes its name from. Every birthday of the reigning monarch, each Jockie received a new cloak, their tin badge with the motto “pass and repass“, a Scots shilling for every year of the monarch’s age and their dinner. “Pass and repass” referred to the holder being allowed to pass freely through the land, not being subject to the local begging laws and being charged with vagrancy. The artist David Allan sketched many of the common folk of Edinburgh in the 1780s, including a blue-cloaked and badged Bedesman. Paul Sandby, whose work in the city in the 1750s clearly influenced Allan also drew numerous beggars and vagrants, and frequently colours their coats blue.
A late 18th century illustration of a Jockie. Note his blue cloak and badge. His clothing marks him out as a former soldier, and his missing leg is probably why he was given the beggar’s “privilege”.Note to readers: unfortunately in April 2026, a third-party plug-in more than exceeded its authority and broke many of the image links on this site. No images were lost but I will have to restore them page-by-page, which may take some time. In the meantime please bear with me while I go about rectifying this issue.
If you have found this site useful, informative or amusing then you can help contribute towards its running costs by supporting me on ko-fi. This includes my commitment to keeping it 100% advert and AI free for all time coming, and in helping to find further unusual stories to bring you by acquiring books and paying for research.
Or please do just share this post on social media or amongst friends and like-minded people, sites like this thrive on being shared.Explore Threadinburgh by map:
Travelers' Map is loading...
If you see this after your page is loaded completely, leafletJS files are missing.These threads © 2017-2026, Andy Arthur.
NO AI TRAINING: Any use of the contents of this website to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
#Lochend #Logan #Restalrig #StMargaret -
I am writing an open #letter to all #political sides as an #introduction to #hope I wish to turn #hurt away from and closer into as such through #affirmative #action accordingly if at all possible.
Let me start out by saying, that I #believe in the #power of real human prayer as #unbound #energy finding its way through us. And in turn, I'm no #religious #person by and large, but I am going to send this #prayer out there anyways because I feel it needs to be #said as is.
This will be a prayer covering several #topics of conversation that I #feel are important and significant enough to relay as one broadcast.
To all #people I #pray that:
You realize living on your own #political #island sounds great in theory, be it on the #left or the #right of the spectrum. Or even at the #top or #bottom of it as well. But being unable to find or care for the #center of it, leaves you #vulnerable to #attack more so than anything else. And that is not a state of things I #desire for you to have to #live by.I pray that:
As #individuals you #collectively and #personally #understand that there are differences between the #perception of how you come across to others, and how others #perceive you in turn. It is okay to have a #difference of opinion, but to be #blind sighted by this, leaves you open to being #weaponized and I do not #wish that for you to have to #experience at all.#sovereignty
I pray that:
You can #recognize how someone wants to be able to experience #respect without having to diverge or divulge your #interest in a #potential #conflict as such. In order for us to be able to #trust each other, we have to #remember how to #treat one another as #equals rather than constantly #competing for #dominance based on denying that there #exists a spectrum of #agreeability at play that we are all apart of.#CommonSense
I pray that:
We keep building upon #frameworks that do not need to become a totally separate #foundation that exists just to serve you. But rather, exist as #modular #blocks that can join and detach from one another as already built #structures full and complete. This way, we are not trying to conflict over what block we have to share space with someone else in prioritizing. Because the entire thing is ours to shape in our own way. And so as a #metaphor, I feel it is #important to attach to the idea of having a sense in common, as opposed to a common sense where applicable, of things that cause us to #fight over how #relevant it is to most of us around the #actual or #planned #change currently in motion.#battles
I pray that:
We are able to tell when to be #still and when to #move upon any #focus that #captivates us in part. Whether it exists as apart of a #whole or not. Doing so will help us make the best #impact #possible for the change we want to make a #reality for the #cause we are #concerned for.And ultimately, I pray that we can move past the blatant need to have an #existential #crisis be on full display at the #crossroads of #agendas being carried out as they are each in turn, #instigated by #georegional #tribalism that serves nobody accept to put #humanity as a whole last, not first, as I intend to do.
All of these things are #real and can be #fixable and #doable as such. And I want to make sure, that this reality does not have a chance to get far out of #control the way it currently has.
For it is #outcomes like this, that #incomes should never have appropriately #manifested into #place that I want to #avoid and keep #preventable from ever #happening again.
To me, I find it very #unfortunate that we are living through #times of such blatant #hardship that should not have to be so unnecessary in today's day and age. For in this latest #protest #style #news #video we see this very inteersection of mounting, preventable #activities #culminating all at once in a display of #violent #behaviour best #repurposed for other #interests in my #opinion acordingly.
#posted by #YouTube #reactor and #media #podcaster #RebelNews
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjT3kK5lHKk
In #America #israel and #Canada or anywhere else in our #world we should not have to worry about #migration #problems at home #effecting the #symptom of #indifference at the #core of #ineffective #deference as such. Rather, if we simply #agree to #adapt our time towards #focusing on the #things we can #bear #witness to as our own #personal #legacy then I say we have done enough for our #community be it or we tied to a particular #faith or not.
I say this, in my own #human name for all it is worth. Because that is who I am now, and if any #guardian #angel believes this to be #true then all I ask, is that you add yours to this prayer and pass it forward.
Thank you for your #attention to this #matter as such. I #appreciate it and you very much for the #blessing that you are.
-
From the Notebooks of Jaspera von Kupferthal, Part 1
Highsun 8th 501 NMR
Some friends in the Natural Philosophy Society asked for my research from an expedition I did a few decades back. They are creating a book on the Faerie folk.
My little Cinni is one of the cowriters.
Naturally, I was delighted to share my research on modern agrarian fey culture.
Field Notes from an Expedition to Brugh na Ciorcal
Blossombud 10th 470 NMR
I have finished settling into my research blind outside Brugh Na Ciorcal. I found a suitably large hole in an oak tree to serve as my camp, although I am questioning my decision to disguise myself as a robin as I use my beak to write these words. It might be worth relocating to somewhere where a creature that could hold a pen could conveniently dwell. Ugh, I am getting distracted again.
An aerial inspection revealed that the village of Brugh Na Ciorcal is an almost unremarkable average specimen of Fey Enclave except for its location. It is located in the crook of a bend of Gilline Run river (although the locals most certainly do not use that name. Inquire about that at a later date). The village is roughly 1000 feet in diameter as the robin flies, which is rather large for a fey settlement, and is surrounded on 3 sides by the river (did the inhabitants change the river’s course?). The village is perfectly circular, elevated roughly 20 feet above the surrounding terrain and surrounded by an earthen berm about 7 feet high and a ditch 4 feet deep on the landward side. The entrance is flanked by a pair of unusual-looking standing stones, perfectly square columns, definitely fey-related from the spiraling markings, but they look older than the village.
The village itself consists of 120 faerie burrow houses, or brughs, of various sizes, arranged in the typical concentric-ring layout connected by spiraling paths. At the center is a large circular green with expected Fey paganism standing stones and an altar. Surrounding the green is a larger brugh which is almost certainly the headman’s dwelling, what looks like an alehouse, a general store (A rarity in a Faerie enclave, possibly a sign of outside trade), and several larger brughs which likely belong to the headman’s favorite lackeys or druids.
Outside the village for another mile or so on both sides of the river is another spiral, this one made up of paths through enclosures, orchards, and gardens enclosed by wild but trimmed hedges. The majority of these were gardens of semi-wild vegetables and fruit trees. However, I was surprised to see a plowed field at the very outskirts of the clearing and what, to my bird tongue, tasted like common wheat. They obviously were planting the stuff because a youth with a stick chased me away. The presence of domesticated crops certainly raises my eyebrows, and this might suggest a larger societal drift towards baseline mortality in the same region.
Tomorrow I will attempt a full census. This will require either a change in form or a more creative approach; robins, as it turns out, are not inconspicuous when taking notes.
Blossombud 11th
I am so tired.
I have completed my census of the Brugh Na Ciorcal, having changed my shape no less than fourteen times to get into every nook and cranny. This was, in retrospect, excessive.
I assume that none of the residents noticed me, except for the pets.
Note to self: scout villages for cats and dogs before transforming into a mouse, shrew, or bird.
Secondary note: Dogs are enthusiastic; cats are methodical
For the most part, this village’s population is utterly average except for a few deviations.
The village population stands at approximately 650 individuals—give or take a handful, as counting while being chased out of a burrow is imprecise work.
The largest group consists of satyrs and satyrkin (195), followed by a substantial goblinoid population (130) and a notable number of centaurs (95). This distribution is not unusual in isolation, but the balance between them feels… deliberate. I cannot yet say why.
The remaining population comprises smaller fey species (25), various others (30), and individuals of mixed or unclear lineage (65).
Of particular interest is the presence of 15 Fomorians. Their integration level remains unclear. I did not observe them in communal clusters, nor entirely apart. They occupy an uncomfortable middle, which may be more telling than either extreme.
There are 180 children, 115 adolescents, 250 adults, 90 elders, and 15 who are… significantly older than the rest. I am uncertain whether to classify the latter as elders or as something else entirely.
Most of the population (roughly 70%) are farmers and herdsmen working the fields, which aligns with my earlier observations regarding their agricultural tendencies.
Of the remainder, 95 are craftsmen and artisans, suggesting a healthy internal economy. Seven serve as resident druids, with fifteen apprentices—an unusually robust druidic presence for a settlement of this size, though perhaps necessary given the mixed population.
Twenty (mostly the doddering ancients) appear to be unemployed, though I suspect this is a matter of perspective rather than reality.
25 make up the household of Sir Eochaid, the middle-aged centaur who serves as the village’s chief.
The reminder consists of the goblins of the Fòlais’ family, who run the trading post, and Giorsail, a young hobgoblin hedge witch and diviner who seems to serve as an advisor to Sir Eochaid (This is… highly irregular. A non-druid serving as advisor to a village chief suggests either a breakdown in traditional authority or an adaptation I do not yet understand. I will investigate further.)
The village has 2000 sheep, 30 geese, 20 donkeys, innumerable cats, and a few dogs.
The whole village is unified in its dress, which consists of woolen kilts and tunics for the men and boys, and woolen dresses for the women and girls, all in a frankly unfortunate tartan pattern that I suspect is meant to signify unity. The only real visible indicators of status among the villagers are the green robes the druids wear over their clothes at all times, and the jewelry clasps, pins, and broaches the chief’s family, household, and top underlings wear, bronze for the servants, silver for the henchmen, and gold for the chief and his family.
Tomorrow I will start observing Sir Eochaid and his household. Hopefully, I will uncover useful data on the villagers’ social structure and customs and maybe get to the bottom of Giorsail’s presence in the village.
Blossombud 15th
It has been difficult to keep from laughing at Eochaid’s household over these last few days—though I am beginning to suspect that doing so would be unkind.
I spent half a week observing the headman and his household as a mouse and had to stifle myself a few times in order to prevent them from noticing the novelty of a laughing rodent.
The family consists of the Patriarch Sir Labhruinn Eochaid the 10th, his wife, Saraid, his sons, Búadach, Luthais, and Torna, his daughters, Samthann, Teafa, Ealga, and Cathach, and the ancient grandmother, Sìonag. Along with these numbers, Saraid was heavy with child and barely able to move from the master bedroom without help.
Sir Labhruinn fancies himself a valiant warlord in the tradition of the knights of the Round Table—or even King Fredrick himself—and strives to live according to what appears to be a deeply sincere, if somewhat misunderstood, ideal of chivalry.
He refers to his Brugh as his castle, even though it is only marginally larger than the second biggest dwelling in the village and consists of only 18 rooms.
The focus of the brugh is a large circular room at its center, which houses the central hearth. Such chambers are universal to all burghs, but Sir Labhruinn uses them as his throne room and the great hall. He spends all days sitting upon a pallet, adjudicating secular matters, listening to counsel from the druids and Giorsail, and receiving reports from the villagers he calls his “men-at-arms,” a term which appears to confer more dignity than responsibility.
This chamber also holds the family’s greatest treasures: a set of bronze centaur armor, a lance, and a sword, all of Faerie design, all heavily enchanted, and several tapestries that supposedly show his ancestors, who, according to him, were famous Faerie knights in one of the fallen Faerie kingdoms.
The other chambers consist of a kitchen, the bedchamber he and Saraid share, the bedrooms for the children, two guest chambers, a bedchamber/workspace for Giorsail, a room for Sìonag, a library, and a nursery. All the rooms were well furnished compared to the rooms in the other brughs in the village, with well-worn, heavy wooden furniture featuring lots of spiral engraving and various personalization. The sleeping chambers featured straw pallets that centaurs seem to prefer.
When not sitting in court, Labhruinn insists on teaching his sons the “art” of knightly warfare. Every day, just after lunch, they go out to the meadow beyond the fields and practice swordcraft, archery, and jousting. I am no swordswoman, but their efforts resembled rehearsal more than practice.
I also discovered the reason for Giorsail’s presence in the household. Apparently, Sir Labhruinn is doing things quite literally by the book. Le Morte d’Arthur, The Errantry of Frederick von Mountainheart, and several other storybooks in the library. They are heavily bookmarked and have multiple underlined sections per page. Giorsail was recruited to be Sir Labhruinn’s own personal “Merlin,” though I am not certain Giorsail agrees with this designation.
I also have to correct my assessment of her ability; despite not being far out of girlhood, she is more than a mere hedgecrafter. Her spellbook suggests at least a modicum of tuition under a proper wizard. She also has the ability to see magic auras around people and things without using spells, a very inconvenient power for my purposes.
However, Giorsail’s presence seems to have disturbed the household’s harmony. Sìonag and Saraid have gotten into multiple nasty arguments with Giorsail over the last few days, including a few at the nightly feasts. I initially misinterpreted Luthais’s interest in Giorsail as romantic. This was incorrect. He appears instead to be drawn to her craft—specifically, to the possibility of becoming something other than what his father intends.
This is the limit of what I can glean through observation alone. To understand this household—and perhaps this village more broadly—I will need to participate. Giorsail’s abilities present a significant complication. I must consider my approach carefully.
#5e #dnd #dungeonsAndDragons #dungeonsDragons #fantasy #Fey #fiction #history #rpg #ttrpg #writing -
Big Town (1994) Review
Contrary to the title shot, there isn’t any lumber to be seen what-so-ever. Plenty of wood though.Released by Plum Productions in 1994, directed by Anthony Spinelli, this is a porn feature film starring the likes of Jon Dough, Rebecca Bardoux, Nikki Sinn, Celeste, Heather Lee, Steve Hatcher, Steven St. Croix, Tina Tyler (Credited as Tina Tedeschi), and Woody Long. A star-studded cast for sure. Anthony Spinelli is a prominent figure in the feature film porno category, having directed a number of hits in the genre, many with notable budgets. A veteran by this time, though it only casually shows in this picture. He knows what he’s doing, he just doesn’t feel like doing it at his best.
The film revolves around the voyeuristic exploits of a bum named Bob, as he walks around the city (the titular “Big Town”) watching people have sex. That’s really all there is to it.
The foible of the main character through which we experience these raunchy jaunts around the “City” (Which are really just re-arranged dingy backdrops), is that he is – or we assume him to be telling the truth – a man of stature who has fallen on hard times. A biochemist who somehow lost everything and his wife left him, and now he rummages through the streets for wine bottles trying to ogle people fucking. Sounds like my kind of guy, to be honest.
That is the cleanest back-alley brick wall I have ever seen in my entire life.The first scene stars the beautiful Rebecca Bardoux, who is fighting over a bottle with Bob. She stole it while he was flagrantly yelling at shadows, giving us the tip-off that he’s not just some random sleazy bum, he’s “Einstein!” (in his own words). He nails the mannerisms of being drunk, unfortunately he is not convincing even superficially as being a drunk in his actual acting. I paid 10 dollars to see a drunk bum fuck Rebecca Bardoux, you could at least TRY to emulate the aftermaths one of the many party ragers I know you’ve ended up wasted and blacked out on the floor from.
The scene itself is rather blunt. He takes his bottle back, they chit-chat briefly and he tells her to suck his cock. But she will NOT do it…Unless he asks nicely. Now damn, why the hell didn’t I think of that? I’m off to the convenience store to try that on the hot cashier always dropping my Juul’s on the floor!
That’s the nicest ass I think I’ve ever seen on a “bum”. Don’t ask what I have to compare it to.The scene itself is rather straight forward; some oral, some vaginal, then we finish with a filthy anal scene. How fitting. The highlight would be the oral scene, which features very intimate close-ups, almost uncomfortable in how it relishes her lips around his cock. We also have a nice close-up shot of them making out. Very oral focused, which is not something I would have assumed.
The dominating lighting for the scene seems to be an overhead key light that gives the whole scene a rather moody, harsh, and dramatic appeal. The only way we can see their faces properly illuminated is if they look upwards, or are laying down, making the whole act feel depraved in a subconscious sort of way, evoking the theme of them being at the very bottom, with the literal spotlight being on them in this moment. Or hell maybe they only had enough money for the one light, fuck if I know.
“I’m so glad we chose this location, right next to the seedy bum-filled alley with the window looking out directly at a brick wall to have sex!”The next scene features the very wasted potential of the amazing Celeste, and Woody Long, who are in a rather interesting scene to shoot for a porno; a long narrow corridor. You honestly do not see that very often. What you see even less often, is a sex scene in a hardcore porno where there is ZERO penetration action. You see some spirited oral action, with Celeste working her face off to try and get him rock hard, but he seemingly was just not able to perform.
The most action we see from him is getting a blowjob, and then working her over with his mouth and a dildo. All the “penetration” we see is implied, with a couple of glimpses showing that he is doing the softcore trick of just dry-humping as we can see a hint of what I believe is his flaccid penis at a couple points, sporadically mixed in with some shots of Bob lingering outside, looking through the window watching these…newlyweds? Party-goers? Who cares, people in fancy clothes “fucking” (emphasis on the quotes).
The scene is bathed in a nice red key light, at one point painting their entire bodies in red, with some white highlights from fill lights, and nice backdrop lighting of yellow and blue creating a scene that screams warm, inviting, and intensely urban.
“Don’t you know it’s illegal to be sexy? Now bend over and let me show you my Night Stick!” – Or something like that.The scene transitions as quickly as possible to the next one with Nikki Sinn and Steve Hatcher, where the dynamic in this vignette is a cop taking a hooker into an alleyway to coerce sex from her.
This scene is hampered by the fact that Nikki Sinn cannot suck cock at all. She is biting it, flailing her tongue at it, and bobbing up and down on it like she’s trying to stab herself in the throat. This is leveraged though by the fact that she has a fat, dumpy ass. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
If you’re wondering, yes, he splits that ass wide open.The aftermath of this scene has her kissing the cop, and going back to her street corner, as she has a small chit-chat with Bob (which is where we learn he is a biochemist, after a comedic exchange). Bob is trying his hardest not to pass out while listening to the hooker go on and on about loving fucking cops and talking about Sarah Lee cakes. I am not sure if Jon Dough was actually on the verge of falling asleep listening to this dialogue, or if he was acting, but I feel for him. God damn I feel for him going through this scene.
Following that encounter we are introduced to Steven St. Croix, acting as a pimp, and the recently deceased Heather Lee (Rest in Peace, Latina mommy). Now, I am sure there have been greater disparities in acting, but this film does an excellent job inadvertently highlighting the difference between Jon Dough’s acting, and Steven St. Croix’s. Croix is what we like to call “Crossover Talent”, a pornstar who can perform, but also act, and he can act surprisingly well. His portrayal of the pimp is soft, seductive, with a hint of threat that oozes from his two-bit character.
The overhead key light is doing some heavy lifting, but I’m sure he’d be just as seductively imposing without it.Again we are treated to a lot of intensely intimate oral play, although this time the color dominating the scene is not from the key light, but the back light, giving them shimmering blue highlights, making it feel urban but in a more somber, subtly threatening way.
The main draw of this scene is the blowjob. My god the blowjob. Can Heather Lee ever suck a dick, I mean holy shit. The way she uses her mouth makes me think she would almost be better at sucking than she would be at fucking. Of course, we also get some of that too, although with much less fanfare, as they finish in an intense missionary on a soiled grimy mattress.
This all culminates though in the finale, where Bob comes face to face with a woman out of time, who does not know who she is, or where she is, but she sees Bob. Shortly after her introduction, we are led to believe this is Marilyn (Tina Tyler), I.E. Marilyn Monroe, and surely a hallucination.
Even her shitty, breathy Marilyn Monroe impersonation is better than Jon Dough’s drunkard.We get a long-winded monologue about how he is all washed up. She coaxes it out of him after doing a rendition of “Happy Birthday Mr President” in the most stereotypical Marilyn way possible. He was a biochemist, he lost everything, his wife, and he loved her, and so on and so forth.
She convinces him it is not too late to try to get her back, that he can salvage her, somehow, he just has to try. The camera really focuses on Jon’s face for this whole thing, and we get a near 30 second long take purely for dialogue and his acting alone, which is moderately impressive, especially for a porno film, as he waxes poetic about how he misses her, how she felt in his arms. I have absolutely no fucking clue what this is doing in this movie though, since it seemingly comes out of left field in terms of the emotional whiplash, although I guess you could argue there is a seedy, depressing undercurrent running through the film, now starting to get put together about how he misses his wife and his ogling of these other people makes him long for her. You COULD argue that. But it would be incredibly difficult due to the fact that there was zero buildup to it outside of the very first scene, and his brief single sentence worth of lines with the hooker.
So, after his monologue, this long, overly emotional release valve for something that was barely gaining any steam to begin with, what does our protagonist, “Bob”, do? He fucks her, naturally.
My wife…My wife! But how often do you get sucked off by Marilyn Monroe?Listen, when a pretty amnesiac blond woman who thinks she’s Marilyn Monroe walks into your life, you don’t pass up that opportunity blindly, even if she did just convince you to try and get back with your wife. There is a really nice quick-shot of the silhouettes of their shadows fucking against the wall, unfortunately we only get a glimpse of that. This scene plays out very similarly to the previous ones; heavy oral focus, typical fucking.
After fucking Marilyn, Bob “wakes up”, stuck in the same pile of trash he was in at the beginning, the other woman now gone; both the woman at the beginning and the Marilyn impersonator, with what appears to be morning light beaming through a window above from the left-hand side. It leaves you questioning if he imagined all of the sex, just the last girl, or if he simply passed out afterwards and woke up, deciding not to change anything. A surprisingly effective closer for this vignette-based film, and unusually depressing.
Overall, it was decent for a porno in regards to sets, the well-executed focus on oral, and the selection of women; their profiles matching their character types moderately well. However the failure of utilizing Celeste (Arguably the best woman on screen here) to her fullest potential, the shitty performance from Jon Dough, and the rushed scene transitions all drag it down, but not by much. I would say it is worth sticking around for the oral scenes, and if you are a fan of blowjobs this is definitely a great skin-flick, but overall, it manages to fall very slightly short.
4/10
For other recent blog posts…
Careful, He May Be Watching (1987) – Review
Released shortly after the fall of the Golden Age of Porn, due to the disintegration of grind house cinema and tighter regulation of what kinds of films could be shown in theaters, “Careful, He May Be Watching,” is not the finale of narrative-driven porn that dominated the 70’s and half of the 80’s, but it…
by theangryfishheadApril 12, 2026April 12, 2026GENRE: Arcade Action / Block BreakerGAME LENGTH: Variable (5 minutes to several hours, depending on your patience, or skill)REPLAYABILITY: HighDIFFICULTY: Desk-smashingly Annoying Released in 1976 in the arcades, this was a – no pun intended – breakout success. It became so popular it spawned an entire genre of imitators, most notably in Japan, with the…
by theangryfishheadNovember 20, 2025November 20, 2025Anatomy of a Weak Argument: A Case Study in Bad Criticism (Featuring SugarPunch)
So, as a joke, a friend of mine posted a link to some youtube essayist criticizing ‘Mortal Kombat X’. “Great!” I think to myself. I am always up for seeing well-informed and nuanced discussions, especially around content that I love. For example, seeing peoples reactions to the 1995 ‘Mortal Kombat’ movie is always interesting because…
by theangryfishheadJune 24, 2025November 20, 2025 #1994 #90S #bigTown #blowjob #celeste #erotic #erotica #feature #fiction #film #flick #heatherLee #movie #Movies #nikkiSinn #oral #porn #rebeccaBardoux #retro #reviews #sex #smut #stevenStCroix #tinaTyler #vintage #woodyLong #writing -
Big Town (1994) Review
Contrary to the title shot, there isn’t any lumber to be seen what-so-ever. Plenty of wood though.Released by Plum Productions in 1994, directed by Anthony Spinelli, this is a porn feature film starring the likes of Jon Dough, Rebecca Bardoux, Nikki Sinn, Celeste, Heather Lee, Steve Hatcher, Steven St. Croix, Tina Tyler (Credited as Tina Tedeschi), and Woody Long. A star-studded cast for sure. Anthony Spinelli is a prominent figure in the feature film porno category, having direct a number of hits in the genre, with notable budgets. A veteran by this time, though it only barely shows in this picture.
The film revolves around the voyeuristic exploits of a bum named Bob, as he walks around the city (which I assume is the titular “Big Town”) watching people have sex. That’s really all there is to it.
The foible of the main character through which we experience these raunchy jaunts around the “City” (Which are really just re-arranged dingy backdrops), is that he is – or we assume him to be telling the truth – a man of stature who has fallen on hard times. A biochemist who somehow lost everything and his wife left him, and now he rummages through the streets for wine bottles trying to ogle people fucking. Sounds like my kind of guy, to be perfectly honest.
That is cleanest back-alley brick wall I have ever seen in my entire life.The first scene stars the beautiful Rebecca Bardoux, who is fighting over a bottle with Bob. She stole it while he was flagrantly yelling at shadows, giving us the tip-off that he’s not just some random sleazy bum, he’s “Einstein!” (in his own words). He nails the mannerisms of being drunk, unfortunately he is not convincing even superficially as being a drunk in his actual acting. I paid 10 dollars to see a drunk bum fuck Rebecca Bardoux, you could at least TRY to emulate the aftermaths one of the many party ragers I know you’ve ended up wasted and blacked out on the floor from.
The scene itself is rather blunt. He takes his bottle back, they chit-chat briefly and he tells her to suck his cock. But she will NOT do it…Unless he asks nicely. Now damn, why the hell didn’t I think of that? I’m off to the convenience store to try that on the hot cashier always dropping my Juul’s on the floor!
That’s the nicest ass I think I’ve ever seen on a “bum”. Don’t ask what I have to compare it to.The scene itself is rather straight forward, some oral, some vaginal, then we finish with a filthy anal scene. How fitting. The highlight would be the oral scene, which features very close, intimate close-ups, almost uncomfortable in how it relishes her lips around his cock. We also have a nice close-up shot of them making out. Very oral focused, which is not something I would have assumed.
The dominating lighting for the scene seems to be an overhead key light that gives the whole scene a rather moody, harsh, and dramatic appeal. The only way we can see their faces properly illuminated is if they look upwards, or are laying down, making the whole act feel depraved in a subconscious sort of way, evoking the theme of them being at the very bottom, with the literal spotlight being on them in this moment. Or hell maybe they only had enough money for the one light, fuck if I know.
“I’m so glad we chose this location, right next to the seedy bum-filled alley with the window looking out directly at a brick wall to have sex!”The next scene features the very wasted potential of the amazing Celeste, and Woody Long, who are in a rather interesting scene to shoot in for a porno; a long narrow corridor. You honestly do not see that very often. What you see even less often, is a sex scene in a hardcore porno where there is ZERO penetration action. You see some spirited oral action, with Celeste working her face off to try and get him rock hard. But apparently, he just was not able to perform.
The most action we see from him is getting a blowjob, and then working her over with his mouth and a dildo. All the “penetration” we see is implied, with a couple of glimpses showing that he is doing the softcore trick of just dry-humping as we can see a hint of what I believe is his flaccid penis at a couple points, sporadically mixed in with some shots of Bob lingering outside, looking through the window watching these…newlyweds? Party-goers? Who cares, people in fancy clothes “fucking” (emphasis on the quotes).
The scene is bathed in a nice red key light, at one point painting their entire bodies in red, with some white highlights from fill lights, and nice backdrop lighting of yellow and blue creating a scene that screams warm, inviting, and intensely urban.
“Don’t you know it’s illegal to be sexy? Now bend over and let me show you my Night Stick!” – Or something like that.The scene transitions as quickly as possible to the next one with Nikki Sinn and Steve Hatcher, where the dynamic in this vignette is a cop taking a hooker into an alleyway to coerce sex from her.
This scene is hampered by the fact that Nikki Sinn cannot suck cock at all. She is biting it, flailing her tongue at it, and bobbing up and down on it like she’s trying to stab herself in the throat. This is leveraged though by the fact that she has a fat, dumpy ass. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
If you’re wondering, yes, he splits that ass wide open.The aftermath of this scene has her kissing the cop, and going back to her street corner, as she has a small chit-chat with Bob (which is where we learn he is a biochemist, after a comedic exchange). Bob is trying his hardest not to pass out while listening to the hooker go on and on about loving fucking cops and talking about Sarah Lee cakes. I am not sure if Jon Dough was actually on the verge of falling asleep listening to this dialogue, or if he was acting, but I feel for him. God damn I feel for him going through this scene.
Following that encounter we are introduced to Steven St. Croix, acting as a pimp, and the recently deceased Heather Lee (Rest in Peace, Latina mommy). Now, I am sure there have been greater disparities in acting, but this film does an excellent job inadvertently of highlighting the difference between Jon Dough’s acting, and Steven St. Croix’s. Croix is what we like to call “Crossover Talent”, a pornstar who can perform, but he can also act, and he can act surprisingly well. His portrayal of the pimp is soft, seductive, which a hint of threat that oozes from his two-bit character.
The overhead key light is doing some heavy lifting, but I’m sure he’d be just as seductively imposing without it.Again we are treated to a lot of intensely intimate oral play, although this time the color dominating the scene is not from the key light, but the back light, giving them shimmering blue highlights, making it feel urban but in a more somber, subtly threatening way.
The main draw of this scene is the blowjob. My god the blowjob. Can Heather Lee ever suck a dick, I mean holy shit. The way she uses her mouth makes me think she would almost be better at sucking than she would be at fucking. Of course, we also get some of that too, although with much less fanfare, as they finish in an intense missionary on a soiled grimy mattress.
This all culminates though in the finale, where Bob comes face to face with a woman out of time, who does not know who she is, or where she is, but she sees Bob. Shortly after her introduction, we are led to believe this is Marilyn (Tina Tyler), I.E. Marilyn Monroe, and surely a hallucination.
Even her shitty, breathy Marilyn Monroe impersonation is better than Jon Dough’s drunkard.We get a long-winded monologue about how he is all washed up. She coaxes it out of it after doing a rendition of “Happy Birthday Mr President” in the most stereotypical Marilyn way possible. He was a biochemist, he lost everything, his wife, and he loved her, and so on and so forth.
She convinces him it is not too late to try to get her back, that he can salvage her, somehow, he just has to try. The camera really focuses on Jon’s face for this whole thing, and we get a near 30 second long take, which is moderately impressive, especially for a porno film, as he waxes poetic about how he misses her, how she felt in his arms. I have absolutely no fucking clue what it is doing in this movie though, since it seemingly comes out of left field in terms of the emotional whiplash, although I guess you could argue there is a seedy, depressing, undercurrent running throughout the film, now starting to get put together about how he misses his wife and his ogling of these other people makes him long for her. You COULD argue that. But it would be incredibly difficult due to the fact that there was zero buildup to it outside of the very first scene, and his brief single sentence worth of lines with the hooker.
So, after this monologue, this long, overly emotional release valve for something that was barely gaining any steam to begin with, what does our protagonist, “Bob”, do? He fucks her, naturally.
My wife…My wife! But how often do you get sucked off by Marilyn Monroe?Listen, when a pretty amnesiac blond woman who thinks she’s Marilyn Monroe walks into your life, you don’t pass up that opportunity blindly, even if she did just convince you to try and get back with your wife.
After fucking Marilyn, Bob “wakes up”, stuck in the same pile of trash he was in at the beginning, the other woman now gone; both the woman at the beginning and the Marilyn impersonator, with what appears to be morning light beaming through a window above from the left-hand side. It leaves you questioning if he imagined all of the sex, just the last girl, or if he simply woke up from last night, not changing anything. A surprisingly effective closer for this vignette-based film.
Overall, it was decent for a porno in regards to sets, the well-executed focus on oral, and the selection of women; their profiles matching their character types moderately well. However the failure of utilizing Celeste (Arguably the best woman on screen here) to her fullest potential, the shitty performance from Jon Dough, and the rushed scene transitions all drag it down, but not by much. I would say it is worth sticking around for the oral scenes, if you are a fan of blowjobs, this is definitely a great skin-flick, but overall, it manages to fall very slightly short.
4/10
For other recent blog posts…
Careful, He May Be Watching (1987) – Review
Released shortly after the fall of the Golden Age of Porn, due to the disintegration of grind house cinema and tighter regulation of what kinds of films could be shown in theaters, “Careful, He May Be Watching,” is not the finale of narrative-driven porn that dominated the 70’s and half of the 80’s, but it…
by theangryfishheadApril 12, 2026April 12, 2026GENRE: Arcade Action / Block BreakerGAME LENGTH: Variable (5 minutes to several hours, depending on your patience, or skill)REPLAYABILITY: HighDIFFICULTY: Desk-smashingly Annoying Released in 1976 in the arcades, this was a – no pun intended – breakout success. It became so popular it spawned an entire genre of imitators, most notably in Japan, with the…
by theangryfishheadNovember 20, 2025November 20, 2025Anatomy of a Weak Argument: A Case Study in Bad Criticism (Featuring SugarPunch)
So, as a joke, a friend of mine posted a link to some youtube essayist criticizing ‘Mortal Kombat X’. “Great!” I think to myself. I am always up for seeing well-informed and nuanced discussions, especially around content that I love. For example, seeing peoples reactions to the 1995 ‘Mortal Kombat’ movie is always interesting because…
by theangryfishheadJune 24, 2025November 20, 2025 #1994 #90S #bigTown #blowjob #celeste #erotic #erotica #feature #fiction #film #flick #heatherLee #movie #Movies #nikkiSinn #oral #porn #rebeccaBardoux #retro #reviews #sex #smut #stevenStCroix #tinaTyler #vintage #woodyLong #writing -
Big Town (1994) Review
Contrary to the title shot, there isn’t any lumber to be seen what-so-ever. Plenty of wood though.Released by Plum Productions in 1994, directed by Anthony Spinelli, this is a porn feature film starring the likes of Jon Dough, Rebecca Bardoux, Nikki Sinn, Celeste, Heather Lee, Steve Hatcher, Steven St. Croix, Tina Tyler (Credited as Tina Tedeschi), and Woody Long. A star-studded cast for sure. Anthony Spinelli is a prominent figure in the feature film porno category, having direct a number of hits in the genre, with notable budgets. A veteran by this time, though it only barely shows in this picture.
The film revolves around the voyeuristic exploits of a bum named Bob, as he walks around the city (which I assume is the titular “Big Town”) watching people have sex. That’s really all there is to it.
The foible of the main character through which we experience these raunchy jaunts around the “City” (Which are really just re-arranged dingy backdrops), is that he is – or we assume him to be telling the truth – a man of stature who has fallen on hard times. A biochemist who somehow lost everything and his wife left him, and now he rummages through the streets for wine bottles trying to ogle people fucking. Sounds like my kind of guy, to be perfectly honest.
That is cleanest back-alley brick wall I have ever seen in my entire life.The first scene stars the beautiful Rebecca Bardoux, who is fighting over a bottle with Bob. She stole it while he was flagrantly yelling at shadows, giving us the tip-off that he’s not just some random sleazy bum, he’s “Einstein!” (in his own words). He nails the mannerisms of being drunk, unfortunately he is not convincing even superficially as being a drunk in his actual acting. I paid 10 dollars to see a drunk bum fuck Rebecca Bardoux, you could at least TRY to emulate the aftermaths one of the many party ragers I know you’ve ended up wasted and blacked out on the floor from.
The scene itself is rather blunt. He takes his bottle back, they chit-chat briefly and he tells her to suck his cock. But she will NOT do it…Unless he asks nicely. Now damn, why the hell didn’t I think of that? I’m off to the convenience store to try that on the hot cashier always dropping my Juul’s on the floor!
That’s the nicest ass I think I’ve ever seen on a “bum”. Don’t ask what I have to compare it to.The scene itself is rather straight forward, some oral, some vaginal, then we finish with a filthy anal scene. How fitting. The highlight would be the oral scene, which features very close, intimate close-ups, almost uncomfortable in how it relishes her lips around his cock. We also have a nice close-up shot of them making out. Very oral focused, which is not something I would have assumed.
The dominating lighting for the scene seems to be an overhead key light that gives the whole scene a rather moody, harsh, and dramatic appeal. The only way we can see their faces properly illuminated is if they look upwards, or are laying down, making the whole act feel depraved in a subconscious sort of way, evoking the theme of them being at the very bottom, with the literal spotlight being on them in this moment. Or hell maybe they only had enough money for the one light, fuck if I know.
“I’m so glad we chose this location, right next to the seedy bum-filled alley with the window looking out directly at a brick wall to have sex!”The next scene features the very wasted potential of the amazing Celeste, and Woody Long, who are in a rather interesting scene to shoot in for a porno; a long narrow corridor. You honestly do not see that very often. What you see even less often, is a sex scene in a hardcore porno where there is ZERO penetration action. You see some spirited oral action, with Celeste working her face off to try and get him rock hard. But apparently, he just was not able to perform.
The most action we see from him is getting a blowjob, and then working her over with his mouth and a dildo. All the “penetration” we see is implied, with a couple of glimpses showing that he is doing the softcore trick of just dry-humping as we can see a hint of what I believe is his flaccid penis at a couple points, sporadically mixed in with some shots of Bob lingering outside, looking through the window watching these…newlyweds? Party-goers? Who cares, people in fancy clothes “fucking” (emphasis on the quotes).
The scene is bathed in a nice red key light, at one point painting their entire bodies in red, with some white highlights from fill lights, and nice backdrop lighting of yellow and blue creating a scene that screams warm, inviting, and intensely urban.
“Don’t you know it’s illegal to be sexy? Now bend over and let me show you my Night Stick!” – Or something like that.The scene transitions as quickly as possible to the next one with Nikki Sinn and Steve Hatcher, where the dynamic in this vignette is a cop taking a hooker into an alleyway to coerce sex from her.
This scene is hampered by the fact that Nikki Sinn cannot suck cock at all. She is biting it, flailing her tongue at it, and bobbing up and down on it like she’s trying to stab herself in the throat. This is leveraged though by the fact that she has a fat, dumpy ass. Perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
If you’re wondering, yes, he splits that ass wide open.The aftermath of this scene has her kissing the cop, and going back to her street corner, as she has a small chit-chat with Bob (which is where we learn he is a biochemist, after a comedic exchange). Bob is trying his hardest not to pass out while listening to the hooker go on and on about loving fucking cops and talking about Sarah Lee cakes. I am not sure if Jon Dough was actually on the verge of falling asleep listening to this dialogue, or if he was acting, but I feel for him. God damn I feel for him going through this scene.
Following that encounter we are introduced to Steven St. Croix, acting as a pimp, and the recently deceased Heather Lee (Rest in Peace, Latina mommy). Now, I am sure there have been greater disparities in acting, but this film does an excellent job inadvertently of highlighting the difference between Jon Dough’s acting, and Steven St. Croix’s. Croix is what we like to call “Crossover Talent”, a pornstar who can perform, but he can also act, and he can act surprisingly well. His portrayal of the pimp is soft, seductive, which a hint of threat that oozes from his two-bit character.
The overhead key light is doing some heavy lifting, but I’m sure he’d be just as seductively imposing without it.Again we are treated to a lot of intensely intimate oral play, although this time the color dominating the scene is not from the key light, but the back light, giving them shimmering blue highlights, making it feel urban but in a more somber, subtly threatening way.
The main draw of this scene is the blowjob. My god the blowjob. Can Heather Lee ever suck a dick, I mean holy shit. The way she uses her mouth makes me think she would almost be better at sucking than she would be at fucking. Of course, we also get some of that too, although with much less fanfare, as they finish in an intense missionary on a soiled grimy mattress.
This all culminates though in the finale, where Bob comes face to face with a woman out of time, who does not know who she is, or where she is, but she sees Bob. Shortly after her introduction, we are led to believe this is Marilyn (Tina Tyler), I.E. Marilyn Monroe, and surely a hallucination.
Even her shitty, breathy Marilyn Monroe impersonation is better than Jon Dough’s drunkard.We get a long-winded monologue about how he is all washed up. She coaxes it out of it after doing a rendition of “Happy Birthday Mr President” in the most stereotypical Marilyn way possible. He was a biochemist, he lost everything, his wife, and he loved her, and so on and so forth.
She convinces him it is not too late to try to get her back, that he can salvage her, somehow, he just has to try. The camera really focuses on Jon’s face for this whole thing, and we get a near 30 second long take, which is moderately impressive, especially for a porno film, as he waxes poetic about how he misses her, how she felt in his arms. I have absolutely no fucking clue what it is doing in this movie though, since it seemingly comes out of left field in terms of the emotional whiplash, although I guess you could argue there is a seedy, depressing, undercurrent running throughout the film, now starting to get put together about how he misses his wife and his ogling of these other people makes him long for her. You COULD argue that. But it would be incredibly difficult due to the fact that there was zero buildup to it outside of the very first scene, and his brief single sentence worth of lines with the hooker.
So, after this monologue, this long, overly emotional release valve for something that was barely gaining any steam to begin with, what does our protagonist, “Bob”, do? He fucks her, naturally.
My wife…My wife! But how often do you get sucked off by Marilyn Monroe?Listen, when a pretty amnesiac blond woman who thinks she’s Marilyn Monroe walks into your life, you don’t pass up that opportunity blindly, even if she did just convince you to try and get back with your wife.
After fucking Marilyn, Bob “wakes up”, stuck in the same pile of trash he was in at the beginning, the other woman now gone; both the woman at the beginning and the Marilyn impersonator, with what appears to be morning light beaming through a window above from the left-hand side. It leaves you questioning if he imagined all of the sex, just the last girl, or if he simply woke up from last night, not changing anything. A surprisingly effective closer for this vignette-based film.
Overall, it was decent for a porno in regards to sets, the well-executed focus on oral, and the selection of women; their profiles matching their character types moderately well. However the failure of utilizing Celeste (Arguably the best woman on screen here) to her fullest potential, the shitty performance from Jon Dough, and the rushed scene transitions all drag it down, but not by much. I would say it is worth sticking around for the oral scenes, if you are a fan of blowjobs, this is definitely a great skin-flick, but overall, it manages to fall very slightly short.
4/10
For other recent blog posts…
Careful, He May Be Watching (1987) – Review
Released shortly after the fall of the Golden Age of Porn, due to the disintegration of grind house cinema and tighter regulation of what kinds of films could be shown in theaters, “Careful, He May Be Watching,” is not the finale of narrative-driven porn that dominated the 70’s and half of the 80’s, but it…
by theangryfishheadApril 12, 2026April 12, 2026GENRE: Arcade Action / Block BreakerGAME LENGTH: Variable (5 minutes to several hours, depending on your patience, or skill)REPLAYABILITY: HighDIFFICULTY: Desk-smashingly Annoying Released in 1976 in the arcades, this was a – no pun intended – breakout success. It became so popular it spawned an entire genre of imitators, most notably in Japan, with the…
by theangryfishheadNovember 20, 2025November 20, 2025Anatomy of a Weak Argument: A Case Study in Bad Criticism (Featuring SugarPunch)
So, as a joke, a friend of mine posted a link to some youtube essayist criticizing ‘Mortal Kombat X’. “Great!” I think to myself. I am always up for seeing well-informed and nuanced discussions, especially around content that I love. For example, seeing peoples reactions to the 1995 ‘Mortal Kombat’ movie is always interesting because…
by theangryfishheadJune 24, 2025November 20, 2025 #1994 #90S #bigTown #blowjob #celeste #erotic #erotica #feature #fiction #film #flick #heatherLee #movie #Movies #nikkiSinn #oral #porn #rebeccaBardoux #retro #reviews #sex #smut #stevenStCroix #tinaTyler #vintage #woodyLong #writing -
The bit that you skip #93: Gazelle – At last, friend
Many songs tend to remind you of your childhood. Another quantity, perhaps greater, hark back to your teenage days. Then there’s songs that make you think of your early adulthood. The wide eyed rookie days. Wages are minuscule, possibilities are endless, and nothing is written in pen.
After Headlights broke up, I trawled for everything related to the Fein clan. First it was Absinthe Blind and their wondrous space age dreamy rock. Then I went for Ad Fein’s and Jeff Dimpsey’s Peléan eruption of a band, Gazelle. Healthy doses of dream pop and electronica gave us an album that sounded like nothing else. Perhaps what U2 wanted to do with POP, Gazelle did with their only album.
Just as I graduated from Electronics and Telecommunications, I went hogwild into ambient and lounge music. After a stint at Ericsson in Gustavo Baz, which wasn’t too far from my house, I got sent to a communications hub in Polanco in Lago Alberto, where it always smelled like chocolate due to La Holandesa being near. After a couple of weeks, I absconded to another central, a few blocks from Lago Alberto, on Kepler. The disorganised wires, dusty countertops and odd rodents of unusual size on the lower flowers contrasted with the upper floor, where I befriended two people, Chrissie and Alan. We would spent most of the time talking and eating in nearby places than doing much work, since a lot of it was tests that took time and the real crunch was understanding the output, then correcting anything in our means.
I would walk from Metro Polanco to Kepler, a good 2 km walk. The metro trip was brutal, as it was peak hour and you were, as Radiohead bluntly said it once, packt like sardines in a crushd tin pack. I wouldn’t dare to use my cd player as you could barely moved an arm, much less try to adjust volume in a noisy commute. Once out of the metro station, I’d go for a small coffee at a small joint on the way to Kepler’s telephone central. I would listen to any Café del Mar compilation I had ready, or just whatever electronica mix a friend gave me.
Chrissie and Alan eventually had to go back to London and we would meet a couple of times later but no longer as employees for Telcel, but as ex-coworkers. I considered them friends. Alan sadly passed away from cancer a few years later. He was pencil thin, and always smoking, holding his cig in a strange “inside ash” manner. Chrissie I talked to a few times, first after arriving at Nottingham in 2002, then after arriving in Sheffield in 2008. I’ve lost track, as one does with friends in life. It’s not intentional, it’s just something that happens and even if we never meet again, we had good times, like the trip we took to Teotihuacán with one of her friends that speak no English at all and paid my tourist guide with delicious plum candies. Or a strange trip to Acapulco where we barely escaped being on a disco boat that meet a grisly end (no casualties, thankfully).
Gazelle’s At last, friend evokes memories of both Chrissie and Mark. Chrissie usually went as “Chwissy” as a joke, and Alan…well, his devil-may-care attitude was always juxtaposed with an encyclopedic knowledge of telecommunications. The song also reminds me of my first days in Nottingham, wandering through town aimlessly. In fact, a few songs that have effect on me. I don’t think I’ll ever have that wide-eye feeling again. But nothing is written in pen. That never changes, though.
-Sam J. Valdés López
https://youtu.be/gfwSNGLAcqM?si=vKLPXRZulZuHoQF7
#AbsintheBlind #Acapulco #AdamFein #Gazelle #Graduation #Headlights #JeffDimpsey #life #London #Mark #music #Nottingham #Poetry #Sheffield #Sunblown #Telecomm #Teotihuacan #Teotihuacana #writing -
This account, this corner of the fediverse, has become one of the places I let those questions be noisy in public. What does healing mean when the conditions that harmed you are not gone, only rearranged into more respectable shapes? What actually happens inside a counselling relationship when disability or neurodivergence is present but unnamed, or misnamed, or politely ignored? How do we begin to notice the ways power and unspoken norms travel through even the most well-intentioned helping professions? How do we hold culture as something we are constantly creating and being created by, something we may need to grieve and interrogate and occasionally celebrate, often all at once, sometimes in the space of a single conversation?
I keep circling back to the interior labour of this work. The slow, repetitive practice of building emotional regulation when your nervous system's default setting is red alert. The awkwardness of learning self-compassion when sharp self-criticism has been your most reliable survival tool. The moments that feel like failure because you find yourself reacting in an old way, when in reality this is precisely how recovery moves, looping back on itself, revisiting old ground with slightly different eyes. The way trauma and joy can sit shoulder to shoulder in the same hour, the same therapy session, the same breath, and how unnerving and holy that can feel.
Rauch and Ansari suggest that silence can be deliberate and strategic, a form of self-regulation rather than withdrawal, a boundary rather than an absence. I think about this in relation to the freeze response, to the moments in my own history when going quiet was not giving up but holding on. The body stills because there are no safe words yet. Sometimes the silence is the story. And learning to hear it as such, to receive it without rushing to fill or fix it, is one of the things I am still practising, in music and in therapy and in the ordinary, unglamorous dailiness of trying to stay present in a life that sometimes arrives all at once.
I am not arriving anywhere with a finished theory of how any of this is supposed to work. I am coming, again and again, with fragments and questions and a stubborn intention to tell the truth as I understand it in the moment I am writing. That truth is often partial, often shifting. My understanding of myself, of trauma, of disability, of care, keeps moving, and I want it to. I would rather be inconsistent and alive to new information than seamless and rigidly wrong.
If you are still reading, you are already participating in something I care about. A space that treats complexity as ordinary rather than excessive. Where being too much is not an accusation but raw material. Where intense feeling and rigorous thought are both welcome at the same table. Where healing is not a linear journey toward a fixed destination but something more like learning to live inside unresolved chords without pretending they have resolved. Where music is both metaphor and method, both a way of speaking about change and a way of practising it in the body.
True silence does not exist. What we call silence is simply what we have not yet learned to hear. The fullness of life in quieter tones. The heartbeat of thought. The whispered rhythm of resilience. The steady murmur of healing is underway. And when we learn to tune into the music between the notes and into the truth held in breath, we do more than survive. We begin to sing again. This time, in a voice that is entirely our own.
I am not here to introduce myself so much as to keep turning up alongside you. To keep writing from the middle of things, not only from the rare polished moments that look good in hindsight. To keep noticing the small, ordinary, unglamorous ways humans find their way back to themselves, even inside systems that were never set up with them in mind. If any of these threads brush against something in your own story, then you are part of the imagined audience I write towards. And maybe, in a slow, imperfect, occasionally dissonant way, part of the choir that is still learning how to hear itself.
#AuDHD #Neurodivergent #Blind #Deafblind #Disabled #DisabilityJustice #MadStudies #Psychology #Counselling #Therapy #Trauma #TraumaRecovery #Neurodiversity #MentalHealth #ChronicStress #Healing #WindowOfTolerance #LivedExperience #CareWork #Culture #Power #Normality #Access #Inclusion #Ableism #Music #ClassicalMusic #ChoralMusic #Choir #Singing #Writing #PersonalEssay #Silence #LongPost #Fediversea (2/2)
-
Apologetics: Atheism Confuses Me – The Religion That Denies Being a Religion.
As I’ve been studying various religions as an elective for my senior year, I have come to the realization that atheism – despite the vehement claims of its followers – is a religion, whether you like it or not. After all, if you look at the definition of “religion,” Google defines it as, “The belief in and worship of a superhuman power or powers, especially a God or gods.” From this definition, though atheism denies the existence of God or other gods and, for the most part, lacks any sort of organization or liturgy (unless you count the Satanic Temple or Church of Satan,) its core tenants rely on the belief in the superhuman powers of nature in varying forms.
Just think about it for a sec. Atheists, in their pursuit to deny the existence of God, direct their subconscious need for faith in something beyond themselves to nature and Man’s creation (which Paul talked about in Romans 1.) In the absence of God, they turn to various forms of naturalism, materialism, etc. or a combination of various “-isms,” making those the ultimate forces that run the universe. They even have doctrines (though they wouldn’t call them that) in the form of theories such as evolution.
Ironically, though atheists would say that their beliefs are based on science and thus, isn’t blind faith, much less religion, there is very little to support their theories. For example, with evolution, while it’s treated as scientific fact, it’s been shown that often, what’s taught about it in the classroom is faulty at best, completely fraudulent at worst. Further, with the belief that the world randomly exploded into being from nothing, this is faulty as it relies on the belief that things can spontaneously generate from nothing through the power of…well, they’ll have to get back to you on how exactly nature did that. That’s also not mentioning the absurdity of the belief that things could become more complex through chance and time. But don’t worry. The atheists are convinced that as science advances, perhaps we’ll figure out how it happened, maybe through a couple hundred more theories that are ultimately untestable.
How this isn’t blind faith in the power of science and various theories is beyond me.
Additionally, atheism could be considered a sort of pantheistic religion. Pantheism is the belief that God is one with the universe and vice versa. That means that you, your house, the pebble in your shoe, and what your cat left in the litterbox are all God. In the case of atheism, the reason why I say that it could be considered to be a pantheistic religion is because it treats nature as God. And since humans are a part of nature, man is treated almost on the level of a god in the atheist mindset as the final arbiter of truth.
Basically, atheism is a religion in denial that it’s a religion, constantly gaslighting itself and its followers to continue in its delusional belief that it’s purely secular.
Until next time,
M.J.
#Apologetics #Atheism #BigBang #Blog #ChristianApologetics #Christianity #Evolution #faith #god #Irony #jesus #OpinionPeice #Pantheism #philosophy #Religion #Science #Writing -
Battle for the Ballot: Best Dramatic Presentation 2026
The two Best Dramatic Presentation categories are among my favourites in the Hugos, because I consume a lot of SFF media and have a lot of thoughts and feelings about them. Since my post last year about why I had wanted Loki S2 to win a Hugo in 2024 (which I was working on for a while but ended up not posting it in time for it to sway anyone), I’ve been toying with the idea of producing more writing around some of my favourite things from each year, in case it helps anybody—least of all me, in getting it all out of my system.
I know I’m posting this with one day to go before nominations (these take so long for me! I must develop a better system for next year 🤔), but I’m really writing this to sound out my own thoughts about the DP categories this year, because it is absolutely bananas with how stacked they both are. There have been some truly great speculative television shows and films, stuff that I’m sure we’ll still be talking about for years to come, and making decisions to boil my favourite media down to just 5 per category—especially given the fiddliness of Long Form and Short Form where TV is concerned, which I’ll get to in a sec—is going to be excruciatingly difficult for me.
So come along on a journey with me as I parse my thoughts, and who knows! Maybe I’ll argue my way to your heart about some of this, or tell you about something you hadn’t heard of before—some of which I’ve already written about before, but I’m getting ahead of myself!
Let me know what your ballot looks like, and if you’re nominating any of the below shows, films, and other dramatic works, or if you’re including other things entirely. I’m curious!
TV series and the Long Form/Short Form debate
A big question for many fen every year is “do I nominate one episode from a TV series that stands on its own or that adequately represents the show in Short Form, or do I nominate the whole season in Long Form because it’s one complete narrative, and isolating one chapter of it would be unfair?”
Understandably, it’s a tough one; when a show inevitably gets votes in both categories, it can lead to headaches for the Hugo Administrating Team as they have to sift through the numbers and ultimately decide which category it should be nominated in1, which I don’t envy at all. But at the same time, as a voter, I have to go with what my heart says and name my favourite episodes in Short Form, regardless of whether I’ve also named the show/season as a whole in Long Form, because if enough others have put that same episode down, then that’s what’ll make it through to the shortlist, and I would want my vote to count towards those totals.
All that to say: if you expected a clear stance from me on this, HA! I’m afraid I don’t have one 😇—and to be perfectly honest, this is exactly the sort of thing where people’s mileage will vary the most.
My personal method of deciding whether to nominate entire TV seasons rather than one specific episode is purely based on ~vibes~, on whether or not I thought the season works better in its totality than through its individual parts, versus cases where one outstanding episode eclipses all the others for me. Not all shows are written the same, of course, and those that favour a longer narrative arc (as a lot of prestige TV does nowadays) tend to find their way on my long form ballot more often than not, as opposed to the more episodic writing that isn’t as popular now but used to be ubiquitous in the pre-streaming era.
Ultimately, you may agree or disagree with me on my reasoning for some of my choices below, whether on the LF/SF question or my actual opinions of the various media, and that’s fair enough. I welcome discussion in the comments, but please keep it civil!
Jump to:
- Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
- Long Form: Films
- Long Form: Non-Film/TV
- Short Form: TV Episodes
- Short Form: Non-TV
Long Form: Entire TV Seasons
You might see episodes from some of these further down in the episode/short form discussion.
Andor, Season 2+
This is kind of my front-runner among the TV seasons for the Long Form category. Overall, I enjoyed it slightly more than season 1 for a few reasons: first of all, the pacing was much more even, with a little bit more action and intrigue peppered throughout the season as opposed to having several quieter mini-arcs that slowed things down in places; and crucially, there was a lot less dithering from Cassian Andor, our reluctant protagonist, who finally comes into his own as a rebel after being passively tossed about this way and that in the first season. The agency he has in this one makes him much more interesting as a character, and brings him on the same level as other players in the budding rebellion front, like Mon Mothma and Luthen Rael. In fact, with all the different character arcs completed, Andor finally becomes what Rogue One always wanted to be: a testament to the great sacrifices necessary for revolution to take root.
I liked a lot of what went down in this season as tensions continued ramping up between the Empire and the Rebellion; the Ghorman subplot was outstanding, especially with Dedra and Cyril’s journeys as instruments of Imperial oppression and violence, as was Mon Mothma’s arc from quiet resistance financier to full-on political rebel on the run, with her heartbreaking arc where she realises the personal cost of rebellion. None of the individual episodes in season 2 came even close to the intensity or narrative brilliance of One Way Out, which was hands down my favourite episode of season 1, but that’s okay—I think this season works so much better in its totality, that I’ll be happy to nominate it wholesale.
I still need to re-watch Rogue One actually, to see if my (very mid) opinion on it changes at all, but ultimately I’m just really happy this show was made, and that it looked and felt amazing throughout. It’s probably my favourite Star Wars story, period, and I am so chuffed that so much of it was filmed in the UK (in locations I know and visit all the time, including my old workplace!2), and is full of incredibly talented and classically trained British theatre actors who fill the space with their physicality and make their performances memorable even in the smallest of roles3.
Severance, Season 2+
Another really strong contender for this category. If you ask me which TV show might win the LF Hugo between this, Andor, or Pluribus, my money would probably be on Severance, even if I personally prefer Andor thematically and Pluribus cinematically. There’s no doubt Severance is an absolute masterpiece of television—nay, of cinema—and the fact that the most anti-capitalist story of our time is coming directly from the big tech megacorp Apple is an irony that is as delicious as it is hilarious.
Aside from its bonkers world-building (which still has so many unanswered questions!), this season of Severance also dove pretty deep into its characters, whom we only got to know a bit in season 1. I don’t want to get too spoilery here, but there’s a handful of moments in this season that go SO HARD—particularly that one slow episode that everyone else hated for some reason, where we follow Patricia Arquette’s character as she goes to her dingy home town and fills us in on the cult lore around Lumon Industries, and of course the team building episode in which our intrepid heroes actually go outside, but it’s all weird in that trademark Lumon way where nothing really fully makes sense, and it leaves the viewer feeling uncomfortable, like something’s not quite aligned right.
But yeah, the world-building, man. It’s something else. I was glued to my screen and my mind was running a mile a minute trying to join the dots and figure out the answers to the show’s mysteries, much like our heroes consolidate memories refine macrodata—remember, the work is mysterious and important—and the excitement of getting it just before the show confirmed it was super fun. Yet, finally understanding what macrodata refinement is was actually a really tragic moment, and everything that happens after that made my heart break for the innies who are stuck living a half-life they can’t escape, on pain of death.
Ultimately, what I loved the most about the second season of Severance is its staunch anti-capitalist messaging that speaks to the average office worker today regardless of where they may be in the world, because corporate manipulation knows no borders:
- A job is a job, not a family.
- The company you work for does not deserve blind, cult-like loyalty.
- Your life is more than just work, and compartmentalising your work self and your out-of-work self might be a band-aid solution, but it doesn’t really work in the end.
- You are you, with all your complex layers of self, even if your corporate overlords (…or just your line manager 🤐) want you to think otherwise, or to act otherwise so you can fit into their office culture.
- Basically, it’s all dumb, and you deserve to live, not just to survive so you can punch your clock card and get meaningless little bonuses like finger traps or waffle parties.
This relatability is what keeps me hooked, and what I think elevates the show from pretty sci-fi to a classic of our times. It’s definitely got my vote.
Pluribus, Season 1+
God, talk about another cinematic masterpiece. When Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul‘s Vince Gilligan said he was working on a new show (which he was writing specifically for Rhea Seahorn to star in), I was crossing my fingers and my toes that it would be sci-fi, and Pluribus has completely blown my expectations out of the water. Not only does it mark Gilligan’s return to science fiction for the first time since The X-Files, but he brings his now-trademark cinematic visual language to it, full of tight choreography and nuanced subtext through visual and music cues, which is what made BB & BCS so special.
The result is an unnerving combination of horror, absurdist humour, and subtle world-building, centered around a complex character named Carol Sturka, who is one of only a few humans not to join the weird hive mind connection that takes over all other human beings on the planet, and doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. I’ve seen many reviews call her unlikable and unrelatable, and while the first part may be true (I was really tired of her contrarian nature in the first half of the season), I think there’s something more going on here than just a selfish white American woman who expects the world to move just for her.
The thing is, Vince Gilligan does not talk down to his audience; he expects us to keep up and to pick up what he’s putting down, whether that’s subtle digs at the publishing industry (it is truly hilarious to me that the protagonist of this show is an actual romantasy author!), not-so-subtle digs about community building and the harm humanity has done to the planet and to each other (particularly around resource distribution, iykyk), and questions about human nature that we are left to ponder: would you trade world peace for the complete flattening of human culture? Are we capable of retaining what makes us human while not actively harming the world around us, or each other? What is humanity, really, or human nature even?
Big stuff coming from an Apple TV show, once again; should I even be surprised at this point?
I think the long game of this show is going to be Carol’s character development from grumpy selfish miser to someone who genuinely cares about other people—a reverse Walter White, if you will. Gilligan is all about the narrative arc, and he has been known to deliver some of the best narrative arcs in TV ever, even if they take a while to stick the landing. I have faith that he is cooking something we haven’t even yet begun to poke at, if Better Call Saul is any indication, and between the already great writing and the show’s superlative production value, I think Pluribus is going to be a low-key modern classic. Vince has my vote, now and always.
My Hero Academia: The Final Season+
I wrote about this extensively in my Hugo ballot recommendations post a couple of months ago, so I’ll pull a quote from that as to why I loved it so much:
Y’all, what can I say: this has been my favourite anime of the last decade, and the fact it is ending has had me in my feelings for months. I’ve been deeply invested emotionally for many years, watching the simulcasts on the same day as the anime airs in Japan since around season 2, and this last season has been all payoff for almost ten years’ worth of story. Every Saturday from October 4th till December 13th, I tuned in and bawled my eyes out for 20 minutes straight, which for an anime aimed at teenage boys is an absolute feat. Defying every expectation, it stuck the landing for every little story beat, every subplot, and every theme set up over its ten year tenure perfectly, making it one of my absolute favourite stories in the superhero genre.
This is definitely one of those where context is essential, so I don’t think it can be viewed in a vacuum and appreciated to the same extent as having watched all previous seven seasons. You can try, but it wouldn’t be worth it just for the awards. Just watch the show so the ending can hit you like a ton of bricks in the best way possible, even if you miss the deadline. It’s fun, it’s moving, it’s made with so much love for American comics through a uniquely Japanese perspective. I can’t recommend it enough, and it’ll definitely be on my Long Form ballot even if I’m one of ten people who put it there 🤷🏻♀️
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Silo, Season 2: It’s definitely not as tight as season 1, and it was missing some stuff from the books that may well turn up in season 3. For what it’s worth, there’s a lot I enjoyed about this season, but unfortunately it’s simply weaker when Rebecca Ferguson’s Juliette isn’t on screen, and there’s a lot of that unfortunately. I’m certainly looking forward to what season 3 will be adapting, and to see what format that will take, as I think they’re either condensing or axing the second half of book 2 to go straight to the dual narrative of book 3, which I have mixed feelings about.
- Murderbot: I never got into the books because of tonal whiplash (MB’s violence and misanthropy coated in dry humour just didn’t work for me), and while I thought the TV show was a little better in that regard, ultimately I thought the show was just okay. I didn’t actively dislike it, mind, but I watched most of it on a plane ride, didn’t finish it, and haven’t felt like picking it back up since. The story just doesn’t grab me, I think, and I never felt particularly attached to or compelled by any of the characters… and I’m okay with that 🤷🏻♀️. Not everything is for everyone! I expect it’ll be mass-nominated by all the book fans anyway based on the online discourse I’ve seen, so it won’t miss my vote.
- Invasion, Season 3: I didn’t even know this was out, lmao! I was deeply invested while watching seasons 1 and 2 (even though I disliked quite a few of the characters), but as soon as I was done with it I promptly forgot about it—and Apple TV didn’t even let me know that it was back on. Whomst can I shake until they fix the marketing situation over there?! Christ on a cracker!
- Stranger Things, Season 5: To my own surprise, I didn’t like this season nearly as much as season 4, let alone season 1, and so I will not be considering it for the Long Form category (including the last episode, which would qualify under Long Form on its own due to being 128 MINUTES LONG 🙄). It’s turned out to be one of those things where, while I enjoyed it a fair bit in the moment, the longer I think about it the more my feelings about it seem to change, and the ending has left me a bit… conflicted, shall we say. But it did have some great episodes in the middle especially, so I will consider a couple of them in the Short Form category.
Long Form: Films
Sinners+
This was probably my favourite SFF film of last year. Not only is it atmospheric, fun, and lush with cross-border folkloric world-building (Hoodoo magic and Irish vampires?! yes please!), but the story touches so many themes that a regular popcorn movie won’t even veer towards, and it does so brilliantly.
All the many layers of the Black and POC experience in the South during the Prohibition era (and beyond) are crystallised in the character arc of each ensemble cast member, with some absolutely outstanding performances by Hailee Steinfeld (whose character Mary is biracial, and torn between safety and belonging), Michael B. Jordan (who plays identical twins Smoke and Stack so well he walked away with an Oscar for it), and Wunmi Mosaku in particular as Smoke’s wife Annie (she’s such an underrated performer, but I’m so glad to see her actually flex her acting skills after her appearance in Loki). We’re talking themes like the push and pull of religion and its role in both keeping communities together and also oppressing them, the safety of BIPOC in a white supremacist society, and even the immigrant experience… the truth is your average blockbuster would never—but this is Ryan Coogler, and he won’t sugar-coat things for a mainstream audience, instead telling a story only he could tell, filled with truth, complexity, and nuance, something I really wish more filmmakers would embrace nowadays.
The film’s protagonist, Sammie (Miles Caton) has a preternatural gift with music, and the plot revolves around a juke joint Smoke and Stack put together, and the connection that music can create across time and even culture—with a wonderful supernatural twist.
One of my favourite moments is when the villain Remmick (an immortal Irish vampire played by Jack O’Connell) turns up at their juke joint and cries with joy at the emotions Sammie’s music has brought him after years of numbness. He talks about his own experience of colonialism at the hands of the British Empire and the subsequent erasure of Irish culture through the centuries, which is a very real thing—but he’s also a predator who has been making his way through the land trying to trap people and turn them into vampires, chased away by indigenous people who could tell he was a monster before attacking a couple who are Klan members. It’s clear that he doesn’t want Sammie’s music in order to connect people, but to use it as a tool on his quest to propagate a vampire race, and that seemingly sweet moment of connection is exposed as the performative allyship that it is.
There are some phenomenal action sequences too, with the last third of the film keeping me on the edge of my IMAX seat4. Genuinely, this film was such a breath of fresh air: delightfully complex but also fun, in ways that cinema just doesn’t dare to be right now. I was sad they didn’t win all the awards they were up for, but perhaps we can give it a Hugo instead.
Frankenstein+
©️ Netflix 2025I have a full review of this here, but basically: the SFF-ness of this is lush, as expected from a Guillermo Del Toro movie, and for the most part it works well as an adaptation of the book. As I mention in my other post, it doesn’t quite reach the heights of the NT’s theatre adaptation, which I still consider the ultimate version of this story, but it does similar things with the characters as Penny Dreadful, which is my runner-up favourite, save for the very end, and it’s that ending that makes the whole thing fall short for me, unfortunately.
To quote myself:
Why do we sing sad songs, when we know their ending is unhappy? When our instinctual yearning for a happy ending is met with the inevitability of human flaws getting in the way, that emotional release we experience is what my ancestors called catharsis. As the audience we accept that because of who these characters are, they would always make these choices and lead the story to the same outcome, time and again, even though we’d like them to change, to choose better, so they can be happy in the end.
What makes Frankenstein compelling in any iteration is its core conflict: Victor’s refusal to acknowledge the Creature as human, despite the fact that the Creature is deeply human, as much as his creator would like to think otherwise. We are invited to empathise with the Creature’s plight, to see how he thinks and feels, how he desires things we all do: safety, friendship, love. Victor is incapable of recognising this, and so the two clash eternally. Such is the tragedy, and no matter what minor changes are made to it, the good adaptations always recognise the impasse between the two at the end. It’s what makes the story tick.
My ultimate issue with the way Del Toro chose to end his adaptation of Frankenstein is that it ultimately robs us of our deserved catharsis by artificially resolving the incontrovertible stalemate between the two leads, giving us a happy(ish) ending in which Victor, at death’s door, forgives the Creature for the violence and destruction he’s wrought, apologises for what he did to him, and urges him to live on, free of guilt, yet completely alone. The Creature then walks off into the Arctic sunrise, liberated from his vendetta yet devastated at losing his creator.
It’s a lovely thought in principle, a Del Toro-ism about accepting one’s nature and walking away from one’s painful past, and if it were an original story without baggage I’d be all for it—after all, The Shape of Water had similar, pro-monster themes of letting go of trying to fit into a world that won’t accept you anyway, and I ate that up voraciously. But here, in taking a tragedy that is so classic and ingrained, loading it with a bunch of new traumas and subplots, and then resolving it all with a little monologue, the ending robs the story of its true conclusion, fundamentally missing the point of the source text, and doing a disservice both to Victor and the Creature.
I still think it’s a strong contender in the category, and definitely one of my favourite SFF movies I saw last year, despite my issues with it. However, given all my favourite TV shows above, I think I might eschew giving this one of my ballot spots, but I won’t be disappointed to see it on the final ballot, should it make it through.
Thunderbolts*+
I loved this movie A LOT, you guys, and it made me very sad that it flopped at the box office. I don’t blame people for being fatigued with Marvel’s mediocre superhero slop, but they should have given this movie a chance at the very least, because it might not have been the movie we wanted, but it was definitely the movie we needed right now.
(c) Disney/Marvel Studios, 2025I was very surprised with how deep it went into the trauma our various superheroes and anti-heroes have sustained through their previous adventures, and the level of empathy with which it treated them all:
- Yelena Belova, the last surviving Black Widow5, starts off depressed and morose, aimless, dissatisfied with running around and blowing things up for people with nothing to show for it except a path of destruction.
- Her and Natasha Romanoff’s father figure, Alexei Shostakov, is facing the music that his “Red Star” superhero persona is nothing but a figment of a bygone era, and is living a meagre life as a limo driver while reminiscing about his glory days.
- John Walker, the temporary Captain America replacement later dubbed “U.S. Agent”, is dealing with guilt after slaughtering innocent bystanders using Cap’s vibranium shield during the events of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, all while struggling through early parenthood.
- The Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—is running for office, in an attempt to turn his newfound and shaky inner peace into something productive. Yet, something keeps niggling at him about the power vacuum left in the wake of the Avengers disappearing, and he can’t help but get involved in ways political candidates really shouldn’t. See: taking a huge machine gun and riding a motorbike out to the desert to find out who is behind these shenanigans. Tut tut, Mr Congressman.
- Oh, there’s also Ava Star/Ghost from Ant-Man and the Wasp, probably my least favourite Marvel movie to date, whom I completely forgot about before watching this movie and while writing this review. Oops! Her thing is that she is constantly phasing in and out of a solid existence, and she has to keep shouting about how traumatised she is with no need for subtext because they know we’ve all forgotten about her and need to be reminded of her struggles. Normally I’d be mad at that, but they are not wrong this time 😅
And then, there’s Bob.
(c) Disney/Marvel, 2025Bob is a new guy, recruited to be experimented on in hopes of becoming a superhero. He seems normal, average even, and he reluctantly joins our motley crew as they escape from a trap set by their employer—but under the surface he carries a deep wound, a gash that opens up to swallow him whole and turns him into The Void, his mysterious alter ego who awakens when Bob’s absolutely OTT superpowers kick in. The rest, as they say, is plot.
There’s a lot of (predictably dark) humour in this, and I was surprised with how much I liked these characters once they were given enough room to be protagonists, rather than minor antagonists in someone else’s story. While they haphazardly join forces into a makeshift team, their trauma is taken seriously, coalescing into the film’s climactic battle that pits the reluctant heroes against The Void, who weaponises each of their subconscious against them. The Void is Depression, by any other name—it’s the dark voice inside that tells each of our anti-heroes that they are worthless, unlovable, guilty, and alone. In order to beat him they have to reach out with empathy to themselves first and then to each other, and literally hold each other in a tight embrace as a reminder that they are not alone. What wins the day is friendship, empathy, and love, not unlike the last season of My Hero Academia, which I also loved last year, or Superman, which I’m about to get into below.
I cried BUCKETS while watching Thunderbolts* in the UK’s largest IMAX screen alongside my Bucky Barnes-obsessed friend, who has since made this film her entire personality (affectionate), and honestly, I’ve also been thinking about it ever since. Again, it’s a delightful little irony that the megalithic Disney/MCU would come out with a narrative so introspective and empathetic, especially at a time that loneliness and isolation is rampant among the film’s core audience of young men. I really hope that watching this film inspired people to reach out and be less alone in their struggles, and that the financial hit Disney took with it won’t keep us from seeing more of these characters in the future.
Also! A fun fact I noticed while listening to the soundtrack was that the film’s main theme is a reversed version of the main Avengers theme; just listen to the first few seconds of both themes and you’ll hear it:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-Jzgp1jNiQ
Superman+
A good Superman movie?? In this economy?? Hallelujah!
I love a lot about what this film does with the core Superman premise. It gets Clark right, down to his farm boy roots and dorky kindness. It gets Superman right: his power isn’t unbeatable, and it isn’t even the most powerful thing about him (spoiler: it’s the dorky kindness). It gets Lex Luthor right—especially for our times—by having him be a smart but petty tech billionaire with an overinflated ego, someone who funds an invasion and even starts a pocket dimension on a whim, without once thinking of the consequences. It even gets Jimmy Olsen right simply by bringing him out of the margins where he’s been relegated for the last several Superman adaptations—and it’s actually really funny that he’s the one guy with the most game in this film, and that that’s how he gets to help out.
The structure of the film is an absolute delight, too. From the very start, we are thrown into the midst of a losing fight for Superman, which is a bold choice, as is having Clark’s relationship with Lois Lane already set up (and she even knows about him being Superman!). We don’t spend any time whatsoever on origin stories, budding relationship exploration, or long-winded exposition—we simply hit the ground running, and find out the particulars as we go along. It is assumed we know who Superman is, because… we all know who Superman is. And the themes around identity, responsibility, community, and how we should treat each other are laid bare without pretence, very directly speaking to the audience about contemporary problems we’re all facing day to day. It’s a genuine breath of fresh air not to be treated like an idiot, frankly.
There are a couple of things I don’t like about it though. For one, the film feels very busy, with so many characters and subplots and easter eggs thrown in, that if you blink you’ll definitely miss something. Relatedly, not all of those characters or subplots are treated equally, because there simply isn’t enough screen time to go around for everything. So the Justice Friends get the short shrift, as do Papa and Mama Kent, as does Krypton6, so that we can focus on the personal and political stakes that Clark/Superman has to overcome.
This is another superhero story with empathy at its heart, where the answer to even the most cosmic problems is… just be kind. Kindness is punk rock. As one of my favourite YouTube video essayists put it, this Superman is the American hero we desperately need right now. Someone who will stand up for what’s right even when the rest of the world tells him not to, someone with an unshakeable moral compass that only points to goodness. Watch that whole video actually, Dove does such a fantastic job analysing the cultural geography that plays into this film, and how it all ties together to bring us this ray of f*cking sunshine:
All this to say, I love that James Gunn can make a superhero movie that aims to appeal broadly but doesn’t feel like it panders to the lowest available denominator, and that he had the guts to (a) make the story feel relevant to our current times, what with all the invasions/”wars” going on right now that are purely happening for profit and that no one is doing anything to stop 🙄, and (b) leave us with a message of hope, that we can imagine a kinder world and that we can be the instruments of making that vision a reality. That kindness can be punk rock.
Dare I say, this was the movie that made me go, “huh, maybe the genre isn’t dead yet”, which… please, let it not be dead, I really like superheroes!
Honourable mentions/near misses+
- Mickey 17: I enjoyed this a lot, particularly for its world-building and Robert Pattinson’s performance. Unfortunately I think the Bong Joon-Ho-ness of it all kind of undercuts the story in favour of very on-the-nose political commentary, which was fun in the moment but in retrospect kinda leaves me a bit… “meh!”, probably because the current climate is so much worse than when this movie was made, and making fun of things/people just isn’t enough right now. So I don’t think this will be getting one of my spots, but it’s still totally worth seeing, if you haven’t!
- Fantastic Four – First Steps: I also enjoyed this a lot, especially in light of B-Mask’s excellent Fantastic Four video from a few years back which explained the classic comics and got me up to speed on the characters. It’s an honest-to-God decent, good Marvel movie, which as I keep saying is a rare sight these days, but that being said… I liked the stuff I talked about up top way more than this one, not to mention the TV seasons, so I just think it gets edged out by the competition.
- Hamnet: Technically an SFF movie! The trailer had me weeping, but the movie left me cold somehow, perhaps because it’s a little too obvious in its attempts to make people cry (Mark Kermode said it best! The bit with the song at the very end irked me too because I recognised it, and the moment was actually completely ruined for me.) It does have some wonderful and atmospheric visuals where it comes to the speculative aspect of it, and the soundtrack by Max Richter is predictably phenomenal (if only they’d used his original song for the climactic ending of the film!!), but it just didn’t move me in the ways I thought it would, so it’s a miss.
The “I haven’t seen these yet” caveat+
- K-Pop Demon Hunters: Yes, I know, somehow, I still haven’t seen this movie. I’m assuming it’ll get nominated to high heaven, so I’ll watch it ahead of voting, I promise.
- Weapons: I’ve heard fantastic things about this, and my husband is a big WKUK fan, so I might be watching this soon and revising my thoughts.
- Wicked: For Good: I liked the first film well enough, and I hear that a LOT happens in the second half of the musical, so I’m tentatively putting this on a hold list until I watch it. I don’t know if it would edge out any of my favourites, realistically speaking, but I suppose there is always room for surprises!
Long Form: Non-Film/TV
B-Mask’s “The REAL Thunderbolts Story: Marvel’s Greatest Scam“*
This is a 2.5 hour love letter to comics, and the first in a five-part series that tells the story of the real Thunderbolts from the comic books (a team that bears very little resemblance to the one portrayed in the recent MCU film discussed above). It features complex animations drawing from the original comic book art, as well as a full cast of voice actors bringing the characters to life with their performances.
* I’m personally torn on whether this would qualify for BDP-LF or BRW (seeing as it is technically a fanwork, and not an original work), but either way it is nothing short of a masterpiece—I wrote more about it in my 2025 underrated Hugo picks post, if you’re interested.
Short Form: TV Episodes
A caveat: my reasoning around nominating a particular episode is kind of like nominating my favourite chapter of a novel. Especially with how a lot of the prestige TV shows are made nowadays, individual episodes function as chapters in a longer story, so they have to be considered in the context of the wider narrative they’re a part of. If they are from a second, third, or even last season of a long-running show, even more so.
Also—and this might be a slightly spicy take—I personally don’t like that a lot of Hugo voters seem to only watch the individual episodes on the eventual shortlist without any context, and then complain that they didn’t get what was going on. That’s because context matters, and while I understand that it would take a lot of time to watch an entire season (or even several!) to be able to appreciate a single episode… if you want your vote to be informed, that’s the job, innit?
This has happened several times to me, where there’s an episode on the shortlist from a show I don’t watch (and have no intention of watching—sorry Lower Decks), so I just skip it and don’t put it in my ballot at the end, or rank it below my own favourites. I do the same with sequels to books I haven’t read, out of respect for the work itself as well as its author, but that’s just me I guess! 🤷🏻♀️
Anyway, here are some thoughts about my favourite episodes of speculative TV from this year, under spoiler tags for obvious reasons.
Two episodes from Stranger Things, Season 5+
‘Chapter Four: Sorcerer’
I loved, loved, loved this episode. The moment Will uses his new power… it gave me goosebumps, it was so good—and the fight sequence in front of the gate to the Upside Down is incredible. Rather than the writing, though, I want to praise the actors’ performances and the work of the crew who worked on the practical effects, stunts, and complicated cinematography in this episode. Especially given more recent revelations about how the Duffers went into production with season 5 without having ironed out the ending, and the stress that added to the poor production crew, I think any flowers should really be going to them for making such an outstanding piece of TV despite the challenges.
‘Chapter Six: Escape from Camazotz’
Yes, the scene in this photo feels a little ludicrously long considering they’re both on the run and about to be caught by the Big Bad, but I loved the heart of this relationship and the character development for both Holly and Max in this episode. I had also seen the Stranger Things play in London a couple of years back, and this episode eliminated the issues I had with the world-building in that, which at first had seemed to contradict the revelations in season 4 about Vecna/Henry Creel’s agency as a villain and his role in shaping the Upside Down… I was glad to see that in fact all the loose threads from the various seasons did connect, and that the strands from the play were relevant too.
Various episodes from Severance, Season 2+
S2E4: ‘Woe’s Hollow’
I mentioned this episode in my discussion of the series earlier, but let me get into it here: this is one of the best episodes of TV ever made, period, and I will fight you on this. I don’t know if it would stand alone in any capacity, considering the weird tone is already a lot to deal with and there’s a lot of plot and character interaction that picks up from where the last season left off, not to mention a big-time betrayal that ends up echoing through the rest of season 2.
I spent a good chunk of the beginning wondering if this was a simulator or a dream sequence because it didn’t fully make sense for our protagonists to be outside the Lumon offices, and the uncanny doppelgangers guiding them through the forest seemed almost dreamlike, but the reality was much more sinister in the end, which tracks. If there’s a single episode from this show I’d nominate, it’d be this one.
S2E8: ‘Sweet Vitriol’
People hate this episode because it’s slow and follows an unlikeable antagonist whom we are invited to empathise with, and that’s precisely the reason I like it. First of all, we get way more insight into the Lumon cult corporation from Harmony Cobel, who ostensibly grew up in the cult and has invested her whole life into the company’s welfare. This is also where we begin to see cracks form in her resolve as an antagonist, as she has realised that the company sees her as an expendable cog despite her lifelong investment and dedication, and so she decides to fight them, to prove that this little cog is actually so important, it might well bring the whole house down.
It’s interesting also for thematic reasons, outside of the show’s world. On an individual level, the image of someone who grew up in poverty while idolising a particular company, then making their entire life revolve around it so as to gain favour and socioeconomic mobility, gaining that and then losing it when the company no longer sees them as valuable, is unfortunately too relatable. So is seeing a small town that once had its own industry and community be taken over by a mega corporation and become completely dependent on it, eventually falling into destitution once the corporation pulls their activities out of the town. The actual commentary here is silent, but extremely powerful.
I don’t think Cobel’s about-turn is enough to fully make her an anti-hero, but I really enjoyed this episode for all the insight it gave us both into her and the world of Severance outside of Lumon HQ.
S2E10: ‘Cold Harbor’
There is a strong argument to be made that the season two finale is absolutely worth a nomination as well, making this a really tough choice. Two seasons’ worth of mystery solving and internal corporate espionage culminate in this one-hour episode where our protagonists clash with one another and with the antagonists, and it’s just adrenaline all the way down.
Some spoilery thoughts here.While the big questions have been answered (where is Mark’s wife? what is Cold Harbor? what are they doing with all those sheep?), so many more remain. Is there a way to save the innies at all, if Lumon ends up falling? Can Mark S. and Helly R. ever hope to have a life outside these walls? And what happens to Gemma now that she’s out, even though she has 24 distinct, hand-crafted personalities inside her?
There’s actually a great take I hadn’t come across before I sat down to write this, and that is that the finale actually inverts the Orpheus & Eurydice narrative of Mark and Gemma, by having Mark’s innie actually choose to stay behind in Lumon so he can be with Helly. It’s less of a lack of faith and more of a conscious decision, which perhaps makes it even more tragic as Gemma watches her husband (sort of) run toward danger and another woman, leaving her alone at the exit, screaming for him to come back.
Having written about the other episodes already, I do think ep4 is a stronger contender purely from a craft/vibes standpoint, whereas the finale is more typical in many ways, as it focuses on exposition and plot and is faster paced. YMMV here, for sure, but I’m inclined to pick ep4 over this one, now that I think about it.
Two episodes from Pluribus, Season 1+
Episode 1: “We is Us”
It’s not often that a TV pilot stands on its own two feet well. It’s even less common for the film-making to be so good that one must gasp in awe at the choreography, cinematography, and editing, multiple times throughout the course of the episode. One of my biggest peeves is when a TV pilot is so mired in exposition that there is no room for characters or atmosphere until the next episode because they simply have to give you the setup quickly—it ends up feeling flat and boring and frankly, it puts me off more than it entices me to keep watching until it gets better.7
Well, this episode does none of that.
Gilligan’s forte is silent scenes that actually speak volumes. There is so much storytelling in this episode that has no words; we watch an intergalactic viral hive mind sequence take over the Earth in perfectly synchronised movement, and the storytelling is in the silence, the perfect unison, and the eerie smiles as the hive mind consciousness flattens the individuals inside. A lesser writer would put exposition in dialogue, possibly giving too much information for where we are in the story, but Gilligan knows that less is more. We get just enough to hook us in, and the rest is pure atmosphere and of course, character.
Carol is introduced as a grumpy romantasy author, a lesbian in a loving relationship who constantly finds reasons to be miserable, much to her partner’s chagrin. When the hive mind sequence is spread via planes in the air, Carol loses her partner, and simultaneously the world. The panic that ensues is completely understandable, and it gets worse at every turn as she is met with more and more hive mind people, but no one else like her. What a place for a pilot to leave us in! Aren’t you hooked just by reading this?? GO WATCH THIS SHOW!
Episode 7: “The Gap”
The title refers to a real place that Manousos (pictured) has to cross, but also I suppose to the gap between Carol and others at this point in the show. This is another masterfully crafted episode with a dual narrative point of view, where Carol continues her life in Albuquerque while Manousos is making his slow way up through South and Central America towards Carol, crossing cities, climbing mountains, and trudging through thick, treacherous jungles, all while refusing the hive mind’s help at every opportunity.
Some spoilery thoughts here.At first, it’s admirable; he won’t even take gas without paying for it somehow, even though everything he comes across is at his disposal. Soon enough, however, his steadfastness turns into stubbornness that does more harm to him than good. When he gets seriously injured in the jungle (something that was completely preventable, had he accepted the hive mind’s help and transited through safer means),
Meanwhile, Carol stoically endures complete and total isolation for a long time as a result of the hive mind evacuating the whole metro area of Albuquerque, which happened when Carol hurt one of them (and by extension, all of them) quite badly while trying to find answers. She is given resources and sustenance remotely, and for a while enjoys her peaceful environment, going around town and doing whatever she feels like… until she finally cracks under the pressure of extreme loneliness, and asks the hive mind to come back.
It’s an incredibly powerful moment actually, seeing someone as stubborn sturdy as Carol finally admit that she can’t live her whole life completely cut off from other people, even though she hates the hive mind on principle, and can’t wrap her mind around accepting this status quo. In fairness, she makes it to about a month and a half, which is pretty long, but her isolation was also so complete that there were zero people around her for that whole time—an unfathomable experience that’s so well depicted on screen. I personally love the rooftop golf scene as an example of how utterly devoid of people the landscape is, a mundane sort of post-apocalyptic image.
This is probably my favourite episode in season 1, and even think it could be presented without context and still mostly work alright for new viewers… Though I’d still hope that people would watch the whole season anyway. If I had to pick one episode to represent the series as a whole, I’d say it’s this one.
Short Form: Non-TV
‘Songs No One Will Hear’ by Arjen Lucassen (music album)
I wrote a fair amount about this pre-apocalyptic concept album in my underrated Hugo recommendations post; here’s a snippet:
The result is an album that grapples with the essence of the human condition (something Lucassen is very adept at), asking what makes life worth living from the perspectives of a bunch of different characters as they try to come to terms with the impending end of the world—including those who think it’s all a hoax, those who embrace it, and those who rage against the dying of the light. It straddles a weird and fun line between diegetic/in-world music that’s on the radio and telling the story as a sung-through musical, which is a little different than what you might expect, particularly for a progressive rock album. But that’s the Arjen Lucassen guarantee: big questions, big emotions, and a sound that isn’t afraid to change dramatically when necessary, even mid-song. Full of theatricality, Songs No One Will Hear is in some ways very similar to Lucassen’s Ayreon albums, but retains its own identity both musically and thematically.
We’ve been known to nominate SFF music albums when they arise, and on occasion those musicians have even responded to being recognised by fandom—seeing Clipping live in Helsinki was fun!—so this wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility, though perhaps it is a bit of a left field suggestion for most Hugo voters as a progressive rock concept album.
While he’s extremely popular in his own niche, most of Lucassen’s fans aren’t in SF fandom and vice versa, something that I would love to help shift by talking about his work more to Hugo voters and talking to Ayreon/Lucassen fans more about joining our community and coming to Worldcon, especially as the next few years are looking quite international. Lucassen’s very obvious Golden Age influences are bound to have pointed many of his fans to the genre, so the bridge is already half-built.
I’m sure that I’ll be one of very few people longlisting this album, but 🤷🏻♀️! I really think If you see just a single, solitary vote for it in the full data, know that it was me!
Footnotes
- Per the WSFS Constitution, clauses 3.8.2 and 3.8.3. ↩︎
- In addition to the more fannish post I linked above, I found another really cool essay about the Barbican as Coruscant from an architect who works in film and TV. ↩︎
- A special shoutout to Joshua James, who played the doctor who tortured Bix Caleen with the sounds of distant massacres; I’ve been a huge fan of his ever since I saw him in Treasure Island at the National Theatre back in 2015 or so, and make a point to see him in every play he’s in when I can. He had a stint as Dr Brenner in Stranger Things: The First Shadow recently which I unfortunately missed, but I bet he was perfect! ↩︎
- I’d like to thank Octothorpe’s Alison Scott for her recommendation to see the film in an IMAX theatre, as the experience was truly spectacular. ↩︎
- There is another Black Widow character played by Olga Kurilenko who turns up for literally five minutes, but she is so not present in the rest of the film that I’m not even going to go into it. If it weren’t for Yelena and Alexei, I’d say that movie had zero lasting impact on the MCU, given how late into Natasha’s journey we got it (literally after she was canonically killed off), lol (sarcastic). ↩︎
- I still don’t know how to feel about the plot twist around Krypton and Clark’s biological parents, brief as it was. I think it is intended to maximise the contrast between where Clark hails from and where he grew up and how that affected his identity, and the discomfort it creates is probably very intentional from Gunn. ↩︎
- I call this “pilot syndrome”, and it’s one of my least favourite phenomena in media. ↩︎
-
Saunders and Felagund’s Top Ten(ish) of 2024
By Dr. A.N. Grier
Saunders
Rather than delve into the not-so-good parts of a rollercoaster 2024, which had its share of rough circumstances, I’m using this rare soapbox moment to focus on the positives of another action-packed year of metal. Celebrating ten years of writing at Angry Metal Guy was an achievement that crept up. All these years later I remain beyond stoked and privileged to still be contributing in a small way as the blog has snowballed into the juggernaut it is today.
Unfortunately, I haven’t quite fulfilled my writing productivity goals in 2024. However, even when motivation slips, it still gives me great satisfaction to have a platform to share my thoughts and opinions on the music I love. I cannot match the writing chops or word smithery of our most esteemed scribes. However, honing my craft within my own abilities and drawing inspiration from the excellence of my fellow writers continues to motivate me and hopefully steer listeners toward some great music.
While it may not compete with some of the top-shelf individual years over the past decade, 2024 featured a lot of top-shelf stuff across a multitude of genres sprawled over the heavy spectrum. As per usual, the plethora of releases was overwhelming and again I stumble into the end-of-year chaos with a hefty list of stuff I need to check out or spend more time with. Nevertheless, from the numerous albums, I spent quality time with throughout the year, I eventually arrived at the releases that mattered the most to me, with many gems to no doubt uncover in the end-of-year wash-up. This is probably one of the more eclectic lists I’ve cultivated during my time here. Not sure exactly why that was the case, but a year of fluctuating, uneasy shifts on personal and professional fronts perhaps contributed to the more diverse listening rotation.
To wrap up, a heartfelt thank you to our beloved readership for making this all worthwhile and to all my colleagues/writing buddies and general crew of awesome people comprising the ever-expanding blog. Also shout-out to my list buddy Felagund, here’s hoping our combined powers partially align or otherwise complement and provide some listening inspiration. Lastly, a special heads-up to Angry Metal Guy, Steel Druhm, and the rest of the AMG editors and brains trust for whipping us all into order and doing the behind-the-scenes heavy lifting to keep this great thing chugging along. Cheers.
#ish: Anciients // Beyond the Reach of the Sun – Personal dramas, line-up shuffles, and an extended stint away from the studio failed to hamper the triumphant return of Canada’s progressive-stoner-sludge heavyweights Anciients. Beyond the Reach of the Sun marks a strong return that expands the band’s songwriting vision through a standout collection of ambitious, heavily prog-leaning cuts. Loaded with dazzling guitar work and gripping songwriting, Beyond the Reach of the Sun finds the band recalibrating and hitting their songwriting straps without compromising the genre-splicing traits and character they formed across their first couple of albums. It is not a perfect album by any means, with some niggling elements rearing their head, mostly via the way of some bloat, sequencing issues, and a flat production job. But with songs of the outstanding quality of “Despoiled,” “Is it Your God,” and “The Torch” leading the way, the album’s issues fail to extinguish my overall enthusiasm.
#10. Madder Mortem // Old Eyes New Heart – I came to veteran Norwegian progressive metal outfit Madder Mortem late in the game, just as they appeared to be hitting modern-era career peaks via Red in Tooth and Claw, and most recent album, 2018’s Marrow. Six long years in the wilderness and Madder Mortem return without missing a beat, continuing to pump out expressive, powerfully composed jams of their trademark mix of Goth-tinged progressive/alt metal. Although I enjoyed the album from the outset, if anything it has grown in stature since its early year release. The album’s subtleties and bevy of emotion-charged hooks bury deeper into the brain upon repeat doses. The tough period the band endured prior to the unleashing of Old Eyes New Heart is reflected in the album’s raw, potent swell of emotions and overall depth. This is further reflected in the diverse nature of the colorful songwriting, swinging from bluesy, melancholic restraint (“Cold Hard Rain”), pop-infected prog (‘Here and Now”) to urgent, dramatic, and infectious rock powerhouses (“The Head That Wears the Crown,” “Towers”).
#9. Opeth // The Last Will and Testament – As a longtime Opeth fanboy, it is a cool feeling to be genuinely enthused about a new LP, nearly three decades since their underrated Orchid debut. All the pre-release buzz centered on the return of Åkerfeldt’s famed death growls. While certainly a cool and unexpected touch, the fourteenth album The Last Will and Testament is not merely a nostalgic throwback to the band’s glory days. Instead, Opeth fuses those quirky, vintage prog tools from their modern-era material and fuses them into an intricate concept album that is a significant step up from the past couple of uneven efforts and easily their best work since at least 2014’s Pale Communion. Dazzling musicianship, jazzy licks, and inventively crafted, yet notably more focused and concise writing marked an album that features better production and tighter, punchier songs than the band has written in a while. It is also Opeth’s heaviest, most riff-centric release in many moons. Despite the trademark melancholic moods and darker shades, it also sounds as if the band is having real fun, reinforced by the abundance of bouncy, infectious riffs, shreddy solos, and boisterous grooves littering the album. Likely would have earned higher honors with time, as I still feel there is much more to discover.
#8. Oceans of Slumber // Where Gods Fear to Speak – Previously enjoyed the idea of Texan progressive metal powerhouse Oceans of Slumber, more than the execution and finished product. In particular, 2016’s Winter has grown in stature over the years. Yet for much of their career, it has felt like a case of incredible talent and potential not fully realized. That changed on Where Gods Fear to Speak, arguably the band’s most complete, consistent, and hook-laden release. When I felt the prog itch throughout 2024, Where Gods Fear to Speak was often the go-to. An album of lush, moody, drama-filled compositions, deftly contrasting soaring melodies, and skyscraping hooks with muscular riffage and heftier bouts of aggression, the writing is tighter and more compelling than previous efforts. Cammie Beverly’s scene-stealing vocals may take center stage, but this is very much a complete effort, where the rich soundscapes, brooding atmospheres, and technical musicianship shine brightly. Loaded with killer jams, including stirring highlights, “Don’t Come Back from Hell Empty Handed,” “Wish,” and “Poem of Ecstasy,” Where Gods Fear to Speak finally finds Oceans of Slumber firing on all cylinders.
#7. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – In theory, Pyrrhon should be one of my favorite bands. I used to eat up all manner of skronky, dissonant, and abrasive extreme metal. Perhaps my thirst for the weirder, experimental forms of death metal and dissonance has softened over the years. However, while largely enjoying Pyrrhon’s career up to this point, Exhaust feels like the album I have been waiting for the band to deliver. Exhaust dropped unexpectedly and that element of surprise flowed through another oddball, deranged platter of wildly inventive, chaotic, yet oddly accessible (in Pyrrhon terms) extreme metal. From cautious, challenging early listens, I found myself increasingly compelled to revisit Exhaust on a regular basis, marveling at its flexible, fractured songwriting, nimble musicianship, and raw hardcore punk edge infiltrating the dissonant, experimental death metal at the core of the Pyrrhon experience. Gritty production, perfectly unhinged vocal performance from Doug Moore, and occasional burst of groove and shred of accessibility punctuating the chaos (“First as Tragedy, Then as Farce,” “Strange Pains,” “Stress Fractures”) lend the album a refreshingly addictive edge to counterbalance its abrasive, challenging angles.
#6. Replicant // Infinite Mortality – New Jersey’s Replicant previously exhibited their brawny, yet brainy mix of gnarled dissonance, technicality, and knuckle-dragging street grooves to powerful effect. However, third album Infinite Mortality levelled the playing field as the band upped their game to elite levels of controlled chaos, while the writing remained challenging yet strangely accessible and memorable. In spirit, the ugly mix of harshness, discordance, and headbangable blockbuster grooves reminds me of the great Ion Dissonance. Meanwhile, the contrasting blend of unorthodox melody, jagged dissonance, and stuttering, complex song structures come together with cohesion and blunt force, punctuated by the occasional warped solo. Like a harsh, harrowing soundtrack to a bleak dystopian future, Infinite Mortality is a mean, chunky, technical, and deliciously primal slab of advanced disso-tech-death excellence.
#5. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – Notably death metal in 2024 was dominated by brutal, dissonant varieties, designed to scramble brains and challenge minds while battering the listener into submission. Refreshingly, unheralded surprise packet Noxis unloaded a killer debut LP to savor. Drawing from an array of old-school influences and ’90s touchstones without ever aping one particular band or style, Noxis unleashed a nostalgic yet unique death metal platter. Managing to at once sound raw and unclean, technical and brutal, thrashy and proggy, sharp and refined, Noxis blaze their way craftily through memorable, riff-infested wastelands with unbridled aggression, speed, and finesse, rubber-stamped by some exceptional bass work. Remnants of the classic Floridian scene mingle with powerful influences, including early Cryptopsy, later-era Death, Atheist, and Cannibal Corpse, resulting in a finished product that sounds fresh and vital, while containing an endearing, workmanlike old-school charm. It works a treat, and the top-notch and frequently inventive writing reveals impressive depth and character that rewards repeat listens.
#4. Dissimulator // Lower Form Resistance – There are some serviceable, enjoyable thrash-aligned albums in 2024, but one stood head and shoulders above the competition. Comprised of a grizzled bunch of underground Canadian musicians hellbent on fusing advanced technical thrash assaults with sick old-school death-thrash, a fuckton of killer riffs, quirky vocoder action, and razor-sharp hooks, Lower Form Resistance has consistently provided an adrenaline-filled shot of thrash when needing that specific fix. Dissimulator rewires thrash in intricate and intriguing ways, giving me the same giddy rush as past experiences with the likes of Capharnaum, Vhol, and Revocation. Excited to hear what these dudes conjure up next. In the meantime, Lower Form Resistance will continue to keep my thrash cogs oiled through potent bangers like “Warped,” “Automoil & Robotoil,” and “Hyperline Underflow.”
#3. Huntsmen // The Dry Land – After somehow sleeping on 2018 debut American Scrap and subsequently their apparent sophomore slumping second album, I finally righted my wrongs by delving into the strange and wildly unique woodlands of Chicago metal troupe Huntsmen and their phenomenal third LP, The Dry Land. A raw, rustic, and emotionally striking explosion of genre-bending excellence, where blackened sludge, doom, post, prog, folk, and Americana influences coalesce into an intoxicating and frequently thrilling musical formula, rich in detail and emotion. The skilled genre mashing is cohesive and genuine, loaded with surprises, structural twists, dramatic ebbs and flows, deep burrowing hooks, and contrasting vocal trade-offs to seal the deal on a remarkable album. Despite only a small handful of songs comprising the album (six in total), Huntsmen make every moment count, from blazing longer numbers with stunning contrasts and peaks (“This, Our Gospel,” “In Time, All things”) to plaintive folk dusted rock (“Lean Times”), through to the stunningly moving, compact power of “Rain.” Huntsmen occupy a unique space in the metalverse.
#2. Borknagar // Fall – I have a slightly odd history with Norwegian legends Borknagar. I recall being taken by their excellent 2012 album Urd, yet oddly enough I didn’t extend my listening beyond that isolated release. Things changed with 2019’s True North, a typically solid offering that inspired my explorations of portions of their vast and consistently engaging catalog. The twelfth album Fall marks their first album since True North and again features an outstanding line-up of talents, including founding mastermind Øystein Brun, multi-talented keyboardist/clean vocalist Lars Nedland, and ace up their sleeve bass/vocal powerhouse ICS Vortex. Fall smacks of a veteran band not merely content to coast on their laurels but rather carve freshly creative trajectories for their now signature blend of epic prog, triumphant Viking, and icy black metal to thrive. An extra shot of old-school blackened aggression and fuller production boosted an album of consistently high quality. Fall became a true all-occasions album in 2024; often uplifting me when I felt down or giving me a punchy charge when the need arose. Wall-to-wall prime cuts feature, headlined by the storming “Summits,” moody earworm, “The Wild Lingers”, and the striking, epic shimmer of “Moon.” Stalwarts still operating at the top of their game.
#1. Counting Hours // The Wishing Tomb – Not since Fvneral Fvkk’s remarkable Carnal Confessions debut has a doom album struck as hard as the second platter of sadboi misery perpetrated by Finland’s excellent Counting Hours. While doom and its death-doom companion may not always dominate my listening habits, when an album does hit that sweet spot, it usually leaves a profound impact. Few forms of metal generate the emotional resonance of quality doom and Counting Hours tears at the heartstrings through a riveting collection of gorgeously played and executed death-doom ditties, spearheaded by former members of the hugely underrated Rapture. Ilpo Paasela backs up the stellar musicianship, superb guitar work, and tight, addictive songwriting with a stunning mix of emotively raw, stately cleans and rugged death growls. The whole package packs an emotional wallop, yet its soulful edge and hopelessly addictive hooks and sing-along moments prevent a drop too deeply into depressive waters, as such earwormy gems as “Timeless Ones,” “All That Blooms (Needs to Die),” and “Starlit / Lifeless” attest. The Wishing Tomb is an epic album to lose yourself in.
Honorable Mentions:
- Blood Incantation // Absolute Elsewhere – Did I overrate Absolute Elsewhere? Possibly. Is it overhyped? Absolutely. Yet Blood Incantation remains a brave, adventurous band and Absolute Elsewhere represents a welcome return to form from these gifted, star-gazing space cadets. A flawed but effective fusing of their death metal roots with an increased focus on ’70s-inspired progressive rock and trippy psych flourishes.
- 200 Stab Wounds // Manual Manic Procedures – I barely took notice of Cleveland’s 200 Stab Wounds debut LP, but sophomore album Manual Manic Procedures provided one of the real surprise packets in 2024. It very nearly cracked the main list sheerly through heavy rotation. A meaty, adrenaline-charged shot of muscular death into the veins.
- Ripped to Shreds // Sanshi – Another reliably awesome slab of old-school death from Andrew Lee and co. Increasingly shreddy, extravagant solo work and a grindier edge powered one of their best albums yet.
- Nails // Every Bridge Burning – Nails is back and that is a great thing. New line-up, the same mode of short, sharp, blast-your-skin-off aggression, head-caving grooves, and hate-filled energy.
- Unhallowed Deliverance // Of Spectre and Strife – A pleasant surprise and one of the best debut albums in 2024. German tech-slam-brutal death juggernaut Unhallowed Deliverance knocked it out of the park with limited subtlety but a heap of talent, creativity, and songwriting smarts.
- Wormed // Omegon – With Ulcerate’s latest release not quite hitting me on the intense level of others, and having run out of time to properly digest and rank the obvious high-quality new Defeated Sanity, Wormed’s long-awaited return gave me my fix of calculated brutality via futuristic, slammy, technical brutal death executed in typically warped, mind-blowing fashion.
- Khirki // Κυκεώνας – Following up an impressive, well-received debut LP is no easy feat. Kenstrosity steered many of us from the AMG community onto Greek band Khirki’s Κτηνωδία debut in 2021, so I eagerly anticipated Khirki’s return for the second go around. The resulting album met expectations through a fiery, passionate, and eclectic mix of metal, rock, and traditional Greek folk.
- Sergeant Thunderhoof // The Ghost of Badon Hill – A late-year list shaker, underappreciated UK psych-prog-stoner outfit Sergeant Thunderhoof unleased a more restrained, psych-enhanced, and introspective album, showing signs of being a genuine grower since its November release, despite not quite hitting the irresistible highs of 2022’s This Sceptred Veil.
Disappointments o’ the Year:
- Several highly anticipated albums did not quite land the killer blows I was hoping for. Respectable to very good albums, but I expected better from Vola (admittedly a grower), Caligula’s Horse, Ihsahn, and especially Zeal and Ardor.
Non-Metal Picks:
- St Vincent, SIR, Michael Kiwanuka, Allie X, MGMT
Song ‘o the Year:
- Counting Hours – “Timeless Ones”
There were any number of standouts and potential Song o’ the Year candidates that could have nabbed top honors, including several counterparts from Counting Hours’ spectacular sophomore album. In the end, I settled on the (proper) album opener of my album of the year, as the tune that really hooked me initially from an album that captivated my soul. A rich, emotive piece of dark, melodic death-doom with superlative guitar melodies and a chorus for the ages. Honorable mention to Huntsmen’s “Rain.”
Felgund
I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of living in interesting times. But as that wizened sage, Gandalf so wisely reminds us: “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”
So what have I been doing with the time that has been given? A fair amount, as it turns out. 2024 has certainly been a tumultuous year for our small family. On the one hand, the business that I launched in 2023 has been chugging along for well over a year and a half now, and I think I’m far enough along in the process that I feel (at least somewhat) comfortable calling it a success. The baby that we brought home from the hospital is now, inexplicably, a whip-smart 7-year-old. My wife’s career continues to blossom as she continues to moonlight as my business manager. Things are good.
And yet 2024 also proved to be harder than I’d ever imagined. My dad died back in April, an experience that remains both devastating and surreal. He’d had multiple sclerosis for well over a decade, and as I’m sure many of you know, MS is a grasping, grinding petty little disease. But for as much as it stole, it proved incapable of taking away who my father was; it couldn’t quite make off with what made him him. He was my best friend before his diagnosis, and he remained my best friend up until that impossible evening in a hospital room in early April. Truth be told, he’s still my best friend, only now he’s free to walk wherever I see fit to imagine him.
Despite my best efforts, I realized pretty quickly you can’t capture a life in a few paragraphs. I couldn’t do it in his eulogy, and I certainly won’t attempt to do so on a heavy metal blog. But I will share this:
My dad was a carpenter by trade and an artist by choice; he was a fisherman and a cook; he was a handyman, a builder, a designer, and a writer; he taught himself how to play guitar, and he’s perhaps the singular reason why I’m writing for this website today. Because while he wasn’t a fan of metal himself, he instilled in me not only a love for music, but an interest in the process; in the people who create it, the minds that shape it, and the passion that births it.
He played in countless bands in his youth, and I can think of no better way to honor his memory than by sharing some of his music with you all. With Steel’s blessing, I’m embedding a two-song demo (“A Place in Time” and “Street Legal”) ripped from a cassette my old man recorded in the late 80s, so apologies in advance for the questionable quality. He composed both the music and lyrics, played guitar and bass, and sang on both tracks, which were devised when he was perhaps at his Rush fanboy peak. It’s been a delight and a balm hearing his voice again, captured as it was in a moment when he was young, vibrant, and doing what he loved.
So here we are. Despite (or perhaps because of) this, I managed to consume a fair amount of metal this year. And while I was far less productive as a writer than I’d hoped and I wasn’t able to listen to as much as I originally planned, I discovered a plethora of new music here on AMG that soothed what Neil Peart once referred to as his “baby soul.” And surprisingly, I found much of that solace in the discordant, the dissonant, and the off-kilter, as the list below probably reflects. But more importantly, I found compassion, support, and understanding amongst the writing staff here. And while they may not know it, I will be forever thankful for the folks who showed me such boundless kindness during a year that felt decidedly unkind. Thank you, my friends.
Now let’s get to to it. Here are my top ten(ish) albums of 2024.
#(ish). Beaten to Death // Sunrise Over Rigor Mortis – It almost feels like cheating to place an 18-minute album in my Top 10(ish), but here we are. 2024 proved to be a year where my interest in grind and grind-adjacent acts expanded, and this “ish” is the result. While I wasn’t aware of Beaten to Death prior to this release, I was quickly swept away by Sunrise Over Rigor Mortis’ ability to bludgeon its idiosyncratic way into my brain and coil there like the most glorious of infections. Beaten to Death has delivered a concise helping of grinding goodness, with crispy prog edges and a schmear of off-kilter humor. Back catalog, here I come!
#10. Sleepytime Gorilla Museum // Of the Last Human Being – Gardenstale’s gushing review of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum’s fourth album Of the Last Human Being was a tough endorsement to ignore, as was an invocation of Diablo Swing Orchestra. So I threw caution to the wind and leaped headlong into this experimental maelstrom. And I’m so happy I did. Don’t let the runtime dissuade you; Of the Last Human Being doesn’t feel nearly as long as it is, and over that relatively brief timespan, you’re provided with a front-row seat to the aural equivalent of perhaps the most fun kind of performance art. Hard-edged riffs, off-kilter instrumentation, ominous theatrics interlaced with beautiful, sparse melodies, and all capped off by the deranged croons of chief carnival barker Nils Frykdahl. If I’d spent more time with this record it may have placed higher, but as it is, I’m happy it’s making an appearance at the number 10 spot.
#9. Sur Austru // Datura Strǎhiarelor – Despite Twelve underrating this album, I suppose I should commend him for introducing me to Sur Austru in the first place. This Romanian outfit’s third full-length Datura Strǎhiarelor is a potent blend of rumbling, blackened fury, and melodic folk metal, with plenty of flute work, orchestration, choral elements, and plaintive keys thrown in. And, while the gruff, chanting growls might rub some listeners the wrong way, it was this aspect more than any other that first grabbed my attention, and proceeded to keep it. And while I haven’t a clue what the vocalists are shouting at me, the tone and placement in the mix feels just right, especially for this brand of folk-infused black metal. Such is the strength of Sur Austru that this album began as my “ish” before eventually working its way to ninth. Mightly bold of them.
#8. Necrowretch // Swords of Dajjal – Some of the entries on this list were either late discoveries or took some time before they got their dirty little hooks in me. Necrowretch’s Swords of Dajjal was not one of them. As soon as I spun it back in February, it was love at first listen. Swords of Dajjal focuses on the greater deceiver in Islamic mythology, and explores that tradition through the use of ferocious blackened death metal (with perhaps a dollop or two of thrash thrown in). Although, as Carcharodon rightly pointed out in his review, the “blackened” part is doing most of the heavy lifting here. And that’s not a bad thing, as Necrowretch is more than adept at crafting memorable hooks and an engaging atmosphere without sacrificing heft or freneticism. Swords of Dajjal is an unmitigated success, and my only real gripe is that Necrowretch dropped a new platter so early in the year that it may go overlooked on too many end-of-year lists.
#7. The Vision Bleak // Weird Tales – Grier and I may not see eye to eye on music, but what can I say? The man knows his way around gothic metal. So when he awarded a 4.0 to Weird Tales back in April, what was I to do? If you said wait several months before bothering to press play, you’re correct. But folks, I may have been late to the party, but it’s a rager nonetheless. The Vision Bleak has produced an emotive, memorable, downright heart-wrenching concept album; one that is both lush and harsh, both achingly melodic and morosely heavy. Weird Tales isn’t my usual cup of tea, but The Vision Bleak has rejected my assertion by doing what many similar acts appear incapable of doing: cohesively balancing “gothic” and “metal” without lessening the impact of either. A well-earned addition, indeed.
#6. Stenched // Purulence Gushing from the Coffin – While Rots-giving may have been tarnished by a less-than-stellar release from Rotpit back in November, I’ve moved on since then, and am now proudly celebrating Stenched-mas. The Manly n’ Mighty Steel reviewed this one-man grimy death outfit last month, and even though I was still smarting from my failed attempt to poach Purulence Gushing from the Coffin for myself, I can’t in good conscience deny how hard this globular mass of funerary muck rips. From the first track to the last, you’ll be rocking a near-permanent stank face, and you can’t blame that solely on the fungal miasma wafting from your speakers. The truth is, Stenched has delivered a masterclass in riff-heavy, moss-encrusted death metal; the kind that’s perfect to drag your knuckles to. Purulence Gushing from the Coffin is the exact kind of no-frills, all-guts death metal I needed in 2024, and that’s why it’s sitting pretty at 6.
#5. Aklash // Reincarnation – How are we already at the Top Five? And what better way to kick off this most treasured of positions than with the melodic black metal stylings of Aklash on their fourth album Reincarnation? Aklash received a solid write-up in June’s Stuck in the Filter by our very own Kenstrosity, and their most recent outing has continued to climb higher and higher on my list the more I’ve spun it. Part black metal, part progressive metal, part trad metal (epic choruses included), Reincarnation packs a wallop in just a short 37 minutes. overflowing with varied instrumentation and keen lyrical chops, grandiose in scope and medieval in tone, yet more personal than it has any right to be, Aklash is firing on all cylinders here, and, as such, is perfectly suited for anyone’s top 5.
#4. Devenial Verdict // Blessing of Despair – And, just like that, more death metal rears its ugly head. I’m still surprised at how high up Devenial Verdict’s sophomore album landed on my list, primarily because their 2022 debut Ash Blind failed to connect. But Blessing of Despair seems to have arrived just in time for my increasing flirtation with the cruel mistress that is dissodeath. As such, I found myself utterly taken with Devenial Verdict’s latest, overflowing as it is with equally heavy doses of discordant ferocity and mournful melodicism. And while Blessing of Despair is an undeniably heavy record, it makes sure to leave plenty of room for quieter moments, where slower sections and sparse instrumentation have room to bloom and breathe. This approach not only results in a wonderfully balanced album but ensures the bludgeoning that’s sure to follow is all the more impactful. Consider me reformed.
#3. Aborted // Vault of Horrors – I’m fairly certain that any death metal fan worth their salt is legally required to include the latest Aborted release on their end-of-year list. Over 25 years and 12 albums into their carnal career, these death metal titans need no introduction. Blood-drenched, gore-soaked, and happily grindy, Aborted are in a league all their own, and it shows on Vault of Horrors. The music remains tight and explosive, building a menacing atmosphere that pervades only the stickiest of grindhouse theaters. Besides, with songs dedicated to classics like Return of the Living Dead, Hellraiser, and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, how could I do anything other than include this gem of an album in my top 3? I for one welcome our horror-themed overlords.
#2. Noxis // Violence Inherent in the System – What began as a random pick from the promo sump by one Kenstrosity quickly rose to become a favorite of the death metal maniacs (those with good taste, anyway) on the AMG staff. Now, more importantly, it’s nabbed the second-highest honor on my year-end list. Noxis’ first full-length album Violence Inherent in the System sounds like the product of a much more experienced band. The songwriting is top-notch, the performances are big and bold without being overwrought, and the sticky riffs stay wedged in your mind long after the album ends. And yet for all of its bombast, Noxis is still able to infuse their debut with oodles of atmosphere, not to mention a level of balance between death metal orthodoxy and fresh bells and whistles (and horns) that would make even Thanos grimace in jealousy. Special attention must also be paid to Joe Lowrie’s snare tone and Dave Kirsch’s godlike bass performance.
#1. Pyrrhon // Exhaust – I suppose I was always destined to end up here, I just didn’t know it right away. Pyrrhon’s fifth full-length Exhaust didn’t initially grab me the way some of my other entries did. However, on repeat spins, I found myself falling deeper and deeper into its frenetic, dissonant embrace, discovering both nuances and subtleties amidst the proggy cacophony. On an album that thoroughly explores the universal theme of exhaustion, be it physical, mental, social, or economic, Pyrrhon’s brand of noise-tinged death metal feels like the ideal tool with which to scrawl their livid manifesto. But what truly sets Exhaust apart is its unrelenting groove, stoked by Pyrrhon’s inventive capacity to not only feature but to uplift its unique brand of melodicism amidst the unrelenting maelstrom. It’s hard to overstate just how critical this aspect is to Exhaust’s success, especially since it would have been so easy to excise. But Exhaust’s manic ferocity, which swerves jerks, hops, and heaves, is all the better for it. And while its charms were initially lost on me, I found it easier and easier to finally succumb to its tremulous tendrils. Any record with that kind of staying power (not to mention a theme so applicable to my own experiences this past year) has more than earned my top spot for 2024.
Honorable Mentions:
- Defeated Sanity // Chronicles of Lunacy – Defeated Sanity is a brutal tech death stalwart at this point, and now seven albums in, Chronicles of Lunacy only further cements that status. Chronicles of Lunacy provides the listener with track after aggressively intricate track exploring lunacy in its many forms, but the real treat here is Lille Gruber’s masterful performance on the drums.
- Full of Hell // Coagulated Bliss – while I don’t think I’ve become a complete grind convert, albums like Full of Hell’s Coagulated Bliss and Beaten to Death’s Sunrise Over Rigor Mortis certainly set me on the path to one day become a proud proselytizer. You can’t deny Coagulated Bliss’ infectious groove and whirlwind pace, although I agree with the Dolphin’s rating adjustment.
- Undeath // More Insane – no, it’s not as good as It’s Time…to Rise from the Grave, and there’s no reason to pretend that it is. Nor does it need to be. While More Insane may not reach the lofty heights of its predecessor, it still showcases an Undeath doing what it does best, while also hinting at an undeniable ability to evolve into an even sharper, more fetid OSDM beast.
- 200 Stab Wounds // Manual Manic Procedures – while I wasn’t entirely kind in my review of 200 Stab Wounds’ debut, Mark Z suggested I take their follow-up Manual Manic Procedures for a spin, and I’m glad I did. It’s clear they’ve grown as artists, and their sophomore effort reflects that heightened maturity. Keep stabbing on, your crazy diamonds!
- Mamaleek // Vida Blue – I’m confident this album captures what it would sound like if Tom Waits listened to too much Ashenspire before leaving for the recording studio. Long, difficult, and bold, I found myself returning again and again to Vida Blue no matter how challenging I found the experience. While this album didn’t make my top 10, I’m convinced a future Mamaleek release will.
Song o’ the Year:
- Noxis – ”Skullcrushing Defilement”
This song goes hard. Exceptionally hard. In truth, there are any number of tunes from Violence Inherent in the System that fit the “Song o’ the Year” bill, but I had to give the edge to “Skullcrushing Defilement.” Not only does it begin with an absolutely searing bass solo, but it sets the stage for the four-string onslaught that’s to come. There’s a noticeable Cannibal Corpse influence that I can’t help but love here, alongside heaping doses of maniacal melodicism, turbocharged technicality, and an earworm chorus to boot. Abandon all cervical spines, ye who enter here.
#200StabWounds #2024 #Aborted #Aklash #AllieX #Anciients #Archspire #Atheist #BeatenToDeath #BlogPosts #BloodIncantation #Borknagar #CaligulaSHorse #CannibalCorpse #Capharnaum #CountingHours #Crytopsy #Death #DefeatedSanity #DevenialVerdict #DiabloSwingOrchestra #Dissimulator #Dissonance #FullOfHell #FvneralFvkk #Huntsmen #Ihsahn #Khirki #Lists #MadderMortem #Mamaleek #MGMT #MichaelKiwanuka #Nails #Necrowretch #Noxis #OceansOfSlumber #Opeth #Pyrrhon #Rapture #Replicant #Revocation #RippedToShreds #Rotpit #SaundersAndFelagundSTopTenIshOf2024 #SergeantThunderfoot #SIR #SleepytimeGorillaMuseum #StVincent #Stenched #SurAustru #TheVisionBleak #TomWaits #Ulcerate #Undeath #UnhallowedDeliverance #Vhöl #Wormed #ZealAndArdor
-
As I don't have a pinned #introduction I thought I'd post one, particularly for new followers, although my profile is fairly descriptive.
I'm visually impaired due to LCA. I'm a practicing Catholic. I was born Jewish and became a nondenominational Protestant for a while before becoming Catholic in 2007.
I've been working in the blindness assistive technology space for 35 years, doing tech support and then providing technology training for both children and adults. After that, I was a product manager with Comcast's accessibility team. I'm currently the marketing director for Blazie Technologies, which develops Braille oriented computers for blind consumers, powered by Raspberry Pi.
love science fiction, with #DoctorWho and #Babylon5 being my two favorite series. I've been a Doctor Who fan for 41 years and enjoy the TV series, books as well as professional and fan-produced DW dramas. I love audio theater, both old time radio as well as modern audio drama. I primarily enjoy science fiction drama but I also have a special place in my heart for Gunsmoke, which I feel was one of the best OTR shows of its time, as far as its writing and audio production.
I also enjoy watching videos and reading books on apologetics as well as about religious cults; their beliefs and how we as Christians should respond to their claims. I love clean, wholesome puns and I often am unable to resist responding with them.
I love cats. I probably wouldn't be allowed on Mastodon if I didn't.
I use both #JAWS and #NVDA for screen reading.
In the tech world, product support is always my first love.
I own and moderate the Tech-VI mailing list. It's an announce-only list where I distribute announcements in the blindness technology space; winner of the 2022 James R. Olsen Distinguished Service award from the American Council of the Blind. To subscribe, send email to
[email protected]Favorite OTR show: the Shadow
Favorite foods: any type of pasta, love spaghetti and meatballs. Also sushi.
#AssistiveTechnology