Before I begin this post in earnest, allow me to take a moment to apologize for keeping you waiting for so long, little fish. I’ve been in a sort of creative slump lately, and while I won’t say that my mind’s been quiet I will say that many of the thoughts I’ve been laboring over are either in too primitive a phase for me to articulate adequately, too personal for me to sufficiently metaphorize, or simply too substantial for me to fully realize in text within the limited free time I have.
Also, I’m pretty lazy. Moving on.
This is the followup to In A Starry Night Sky I promised, and a bit of background is necessary before we can get to the meat of this post. A few weeks ago I discovered an electronic music producer with a monstrous body of work spanning a wide variety of genres, and I dove head-first into his music and enjoyed every minute of it. It was, at the time, exactly the sort of music I wanted to hear, and it was all I listened to for the better part of a week (a rare feat for any artist given my eccentric and erratic musical tastes). But as I downloaded his most recent release, lauded by many as one of his finest works, I happened upon a subreddit dedicated to his music and read several recently released accounts from a few of his former friends and love interests detailing long histories of emotional manipulation and abuse, theft, and what could even be considered sexual assault and rape.
Basically, it turns out this artist was an exceptionally horrible person.
vagrant solipsist 