The Rorshach Rant
By: Mark Anthony Pritchard
January 23rd 2017
The Council of Seven Single Review
*taken from the album Dark Gods: Birth of The Architects by VON
Violence beginning with the stalk, undercover, cloaked, watching, then a burst of energy as the lizard brain darts to attack. In teams with the uniformed solidarity that injects courage into the meek, illusion of strength feels intensified. A double-attack, no, let’s do it in our council of seven.
I watch the Marxist little boys and girls on Washington streets, black-clad, masks covering, slogan chanting, claiming victimhood, as all coward criminals, do, it’s a personality type. Watching as I listen to VON, marching bands, seething bitter menace, the totalitarian leftists of new Trump-era 2017. Young college kids, inventing bravery narratives whilst being protected by the cops they claim to despise.
‘He punched a girl. Arrest him.’
The cops, my new heroes, ignore them. It’s funny, the evil that black-clad weaklings manifest. Did you know that evil is a joke? I never understood it before. What gives ‘Birth’ to chanting spoilt not going to work fools?
Quiet again now, creeping, building. I can see a young Marxist male in a squat, twenty-one years old, impressing a girl. She needs a home, masculine guidance. Messed-up, lost, she just wants somewhere to belong, but more than that, she needs male love. How long do they have? Is it months, a couple of years? Going back to the college, to see if he can retake that course again. The dreadlocks in his hair can stay for another semester. She re-reads the old book that she didn’t quite understand. Feels smarter than white supremacist bourgeoisie, the class enemy of proletariat utopia. Poor dry rich desert girl, in love with tall boy because he talks of the Leninism interpretation that will redeem it all.
Evil is weak, ill, yellowing, it punches you in the face, and screams about victimhood. Evil detests authority, then runs to government guns when genuine rebellion strikes back. VON gets weak. VON gets the mindset of self-pity and violent decay. VON opens doors. I always talk about doors. I’m attracted to them. I like looking in. In the past, decades past, I would jump in, and slam the doors behind me. I bear upon me a scarred mistake, a badge of regret, a stain of youth to remain forever.
Today, with a mindset no longer in the gutter and looking at the stars, I still play it, the game of evil, but with Ariadne’s thread now firmly around my waist. I go there, to the land of sickness, places that VON can take you, but as the thread tightens I return to safety before danger engulfs me in the darkness of my past.
I offer to you now, a ball of thread. Here is my discounted entry point. Chose your room of exploration, put in the code “rant” and you will receive 50% off the full price of admission. Take advantage, but be careful, for VON is the same yellow evil as Marxist Anarchist weakness. Unravel my discounted thread, explore, but please come back to safety in daylight of Trump’s new world of do it yourself masculinity.
I get poetic, but there’s always truth in my words. Explore VON, pick your poison, get in and see what is literally, on offer. VON is a labyrinth and there is a Minotaur there. Enjoy, but be careful. Doors are closing all of the time, taste the reality of evil, but don’t get lost within the labyrinth of eternal dark regret.