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noctusfury · 2 years

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Archeological Find of the Century! || The Cave Runes on Dragon’s Edge (RTTE/HTTYD)

So, as you can probably guess, I'm going to be getting into the "Ancient" Sword and the Runes that are found inscribed on both the sword AND on the wall.

(I edited the screenshots so you, the viewer, can have a clear view of these pictures since the originals were in bad lighting.)

I was re-watching "Follow the Leader" (S3E3) when I saw the scene where Fishlegs discovers the sword and the script on the wall and became greatly intrigued. For some strange reason, I never really wondered until now about what the translation was, and if anyone had translated it (like what they did with Dagur's arm). However, after doing some research, I was surprised that nobody seemed to either notice the runes or come up with the idea of translating them.

So, with Noctus being Noctus doing what Noctus does best, he sets out to investigate and does some research! Research, research, research! One of the one ten things you get to know about me is that I LOVE to research and learn stuff. If I don't know something, I go research it until I do.

So, I once again re-watched the episode, this time making sure to do it on the computer so that I could snip various shots and angles with certain scenes directly showing the runes on the sword and wall. Then I went on Ribbet (a popular *and free* photo editor site) to spruce up the photos and lighten them up, since they were in a dark cave and with low lighting. I did the best I could without distorting the photos themselves, making sure that I tried to highlight the runes so I could see them clearly.

Once I did that, I then went to Pinterest to search for some Nordic Rune charts so that I could use them to help decipher and translate the runes on the sword and on the wall. I ended up downloading a few since they varied and there were different variations. Not counting the time spent on photo editing and looking for the right shots to snip (which took me the whole day), it took me about an hour or two to search for the right ones.

Fortunately, the runes on the sword and on the wall contained the same message, so, with the help of the charts, the brighter and clearer photos, and the sword (or certain parts of it), I was able to translate the entire message. Some runes were difficult to define due to the rough surface and the bad lighting in some areas (not to mention rock erosion and fading of some of the runes), but I was able to make them out perfectly.

All-in-all, the whole project took me just about the whole day. And the translating took me about a couple of hours, mostly to double- and triple-check to make sure I missed nothing. The end result was this:

(If you wish to use this picture, please make sure to give me the credit and the shout-out.)

I do have to say, though, that it was moderately challenging. Not too much so, but enough. Some words like "shields" and "shafts" were split (as you can see in the top right corner of the message), so it took a few ticks to notice the actual words once I got the letters themselves translated.

Then the word "splint" caused me to scratch my head for a bit; unlike the two words, this one wasn't split awkwardly. So I decided to take some literary historian liberties and assumed that since we're dealing with shafts (as in arrows), it would be "splintered," rather than "splint," which seemed to fit with the rest of the script so far.

So after spending an hour or two translating, I ended up with this:

"With swords brandished, shields will be shattered; shafts will be splint(ered)..."

Makes sense, right? Sounds like a reference to a Saga or a Skaldic poem or even some sort of rune-enchantment to enhance the sword's abilities in battle (historically, Vikings did this quite a bit; they were weird like that.) Something totally and completely logical and practical.

But then, I come across THIS last part of the message, and this is what it looked like AFTER translation:

"...whd we wind we wewebofda."

I'm not joking. It LITERALLY says this. And this is AFTER THREE HOURS of re-checking FIVE times or more, on top of editing the photos even MORE in order and studying them meticulously and looking at EACH and EVERY rune and comparing it with the charts to make sure that I didn't make any mistakes. I didn't. This is REALLY what it says. Even if some of the P-shaped runes (which translate into "w" in English) were actually thorn "ᚦ" runes (pronounced as a sharp "th" sound, like "with" or "Thor"), and if some of the faded runes weren't what I assumed to be, the results would barely be any different than what I currently have.

I've even tried brightening and clarifying this particular picture of the sword in a hope of having a more definite view of the runes, only to be disappointed.

As you can see, the lower right quarter of the sword, where the runes that I am looking for are located, isn't clear enough for me to decipher, forcing me to depend on the runes carved on the wall. If you guys are able to make this more discernable and clear-cut, please let me know. But I'm not holding my breath; I'm fairly confident of my translation at this point.

"...whd we wind we wewebofda."

Now, I'm pretty sure you're laughing at this point from the sheer absurdity of the sentence (to be honest, I am, too). It can't be helped. It IS absurd. In fact, it sounds like something Snotlout would say after getting struck by lightning. And it seems contradictory that 2/3s of the message makes sense while the rest of it is in inconceivable gibberish babble! It boggles the gray cells to no end!

My Theory(ies):

Okay, so I have a few theories as to why this babble exists.

1) Whoever wrote this was drunk or buzzed,

2) Whoever wrote this was becoming senile,

3) Whoever wrote this was dying and was losing control of his ability to coordinate words,

4) DreamWorks either can't write or is trolling us big time!

(If you have any theories, give a shout!)

Whatever the case, it bugs the tar out of me. But I'm just going to let it go and just ignore that this last part exists. That's the beautiful thing with taking literary and creative liberties and having an imagination: you can come up with whatever best suits the story — so long as it makes sense, that is.

Conclusion:

So in conclusion, this is basically what the translation is in its entirety!

My theory is that the runes and sword could’ve belonged to the Twins’ uncle. Or this could’ve been even older, belonging to one of the Hamishes, or even Grimbeard or one of the first two Hiccups. Or perhaps some Viking whom we don’t know of.

However, this was bugging me the whole time, and I refuse to admit defeat, nor will I allow this translation to remain like this. Thus, I had already taken the liberty of creating several versions of this translation according to my discretion. You may choose which translation you prefer, or you can make your own. ^_^

Here ya are! Don’t they look so much better!! I think so!! ^_^

And if you're curious as to what rune charts I used, I'll happily give you them.

(Please keep in mind that letters such as "J", "C", "W", and a few others do not exist in the Old Norse language. Many of these letters are modern and didn't come up until the 1600-1800s. If you see them on these charts, they're more for guidance for modern users.)

In total, this project took me about 1-1/2 to 2 days to work on this — mostly having to do with research and editing pictures than actual translating. That in itself took about a half-day at most.

What about you? What do you think the real translation is?

Thank you for reading this article. My first one, in fact, for this book! Started with a BANG! I hope that you enjoyed it and that it was a blessing for you. Regardless if you ever had a curiosity about what these runes said or not, I hope that this now satisfies it and that you can leave this page with a new knowledge that can increase your love for this amazing Fandom.

Long Live the Night!

— Noctus Fury

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monoxidecahedron · 2 years

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When u listen to screenshot tell me what u think !!!

ominous and solid start!! delicious deep sounds

its kind of lulling me but also really. rhythmy. im intrigued

OOOH DELICIOUS

WHOA IT JUST WENT ALL CRUNCHY

(removes headphones dazed like someone walking out of a good movie) ummmmm that was like. delicious. like dark chocolate crunchy layered waffles. hoooly shit . insane experience

reminded me of two things: harder better faster stronger by daft punk, because of the lyrics kind of, although its much more dance electronic than screenshot

and also the poem "Will you ask to live?" by astolat (which is one of my favorites ever although it may require some context) because of its last line which is my favorite part of the poem

Will you ask to live? You will. You know you will. When the hand closes on your throat, when the ash thickens your breath, you will ask, and ask again—

What promises will you make, when your shining dome comes down, that you withheld to see it rise? Will you still value its bright curve, steel and stone, higher than a breath in freedom? What will you then want more than the unbound hand and the open mouth? Make ready your offers and your bargains. Breathe. Breathe now.

BUT YEAH IT WAS SUPER COOL

#mmusic #asksksk #zhuiren #DUDE im. that was so cool #nodding head #i like to talk a lot in case it wasnt. apparent lol #oops

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getaroomyouheck · 6 years

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Album Analysis #14: Swans, To Be Kind (2014)

(ayy if you never followed my old blog i sometimes made these album analysis’, where i went down an album track by track and analyzed it, at the end giving it a cohesive rating. it’s been a while since i’ve done one, but here’s the newest one! it’s nearly 5000 words, i hope you enjoy!)

I had never listened to Swans until quite recently. It actually started when I began watching Anthony Fantano’s content, and saw that this was one of the 5 album’s he had ever given a 10/10 to. That plus the general universal praise for this record intrigued me more and more.

The first song I had listened to from this record was Oxygen. And it was a brutal piece, 8 minutes in length, but feeling like 4. Intense, animalistic, primal, and utterly captivating. Michael Gira’s ferocious screams and barks over chugging guitars, blasting drums, and overwhelming brass.

Since this initial listen I have checked out later records like Filth (1983), Children of God (1987) and Soundtracks for the Blind (1997) among others. But this was my first Swans record, so I’d like to review it in that context. Well, let’s begin with the first song, and go from there.

Screen Shot: Starting off with what might be my favorite song from Swans and one of my favorite songs ever, huh? Well, let’s begin. This 9 minute song is an experience in of itself. Starting with this sinister bass riff, it slowly adds in sounds and builds an eclectic soundscape. Each hit of the snare echoes and resonates with this perfect ring to it. Whirling synths build in as Gira begins singing out different aspects of life. These menacing chimes and echoes with Gira begin to layer in and build this sinister energy further. Gira begins again, voice even more detached and sinister. As he finishes his 2nd verse, these absolutely stunning piano arpeggios begin to layer into the song, giving it this urgency. Something’s coming, and you don’t know what, only that it is. This builds further as he sings “No knife, no mind, no hand, no fear”. It’s sinister, but you always feel like there’s something swarming and squirming underneath it. That this isn’t the best to come. That despite how hypnotic and unrelenting it is, even more absolute energy and life affirming power is soon to come.

The final 2 minutes of this song where the build up finally breaks as guitars scream out, drums blast, synths and percussion blair loudly, is one of the most captivating experiences of sound I’ve ever heard in my life. Gira repeatedly screams out “Love, now, breath now.” and his voice is this commanding presence among the chaos. Then it ramps up even further with these hauntingly piercing guitars and synths as he yells “HERE, NOW”. It’s absolutely wonderful in its intensity. It’s a moment that makes me just silent and still, the music hits me with such ferocity and anguish that I can only stay still and absorb it in it’s full majesty. It’s one of the only songs on the album that I can’t even do anything else when listening to it. Every time this hits, my eyes close and roll back into my head and all I can do is just let the music hit me. Even months later and after I’ve listened to this particular song hundreds of times these final 2 minutes hit me with the same overwhelming absolute mind melting cacophony and grand fury that i felt the first time I listened to this song.

Not to downplay the lyricism either, it’s simple yet wonderfully beautiful in the way it captures the modern world. It defines all of reality and the universe into a single still, a “screenshot” if you would. In the 1st verse Gira lists out different aspects of life, things like light, and mind, and kindness, and anger, etc. All aspects of life caught in this still image, this encapsulation of ourselves. Yet in this stillness, there is no joy, yet at the same time there is no anger or hatred. It is quiet, it is nothingness. Hence why Gira repeats lines like “No pain, no death, no fear, no hate. No time, no now, no suffering.” in the 2nd verse. The song is showing how everything is in the present. In one moment, there is no anger, but there is no joy. There is simply existence, and it’s beyond perfect in how it displays this message.I have no complaints, only endless praise. Despite being the first song on the record, it might be my favorite on the album. Maybe one of my favorite songs ever made. It’s definitely fucking up there I’ll tell you what. 11/10

Just a Little Boy (For Chester Burnett): Unlike the prior song, this one is a far slower burn at 12 minutes. It is also probably the most menacing song on this album. Not as intense as tracks like Screen Shot or Oxygen, but equally as captivating. It starts slow, and sinister. Very subtly, pieces of guitar and drums bleed themselves into this very spacious synth lead. Gira’s voice is lo-fi, and softly sings as these echoing snares slam with intensity, to then dial it back, and repeat. Then Gira gives this honestly scary vocal passage where he snarls “I’m just a little boy” repeatedly as this laugh track shows up and it’s deadass pretty frightening. Gira then repeats these haunting drones as he sings out “I need love”. We go back to the intensity as he screams out “I’m not human!” and the laugh track comes back, even scarier this time. It’s like Gira took old terrifying home movies or abstract Lynch films and decided to make it into a post-rock song. Ending with alternating bouts of intensity and menace, a pushing and pulling as Michael mumbles out “Living in a Wonderland”. It’s hypnotic and unrelenting in it’s sinister edge. Whilst not showing off the grand cacophonous aspect of To Be Kind, it most assuredly shows off the disturbing churning underbelly of life and love that this record revels in Lyrics are fascinating, Gira speaking about sleeping in the belly of woman and of man, clinging to them for comfort. He screams out “I’m just a little boy” admitting to himself what he actually is. His vocal presence on this one, while not as commanding as Screen Shot, is still incredibly terrifying to me. His insane laughs and screams adding only to the manic atmosphere of the song. To be completely honest it’s these moments I feel in Swans that are the strongest. When Gira forgets the lyricism and babbles, letting the music do the speaking. Moments like these are where I find the power in Swans. Driven by both sound and word, this album showcases the more subdued emotion and raw intensity the record loves to relish in. Leaving multiple lines and interpretations within cryptic lyricism, emotions convey into the sound of the song itself. While I don’t think lyrically it’s as grand or as interesting as the prior song, it’s still a masterpiece in its own right, and worthy of being on this record for sure. It’s terrifying, yet at the same time undoubtedly captivating. Another excellent track for sure. 10/10

A Little God In My Hands: At 7 minutes, this is one of the shorter songs off the album. But don’t mistake that, it’s just as captivating and intense as every other song on this record. Like basically every song on the record it has the hypnotic repetition and overwhelming quality. Not as unsettling as Just a Little Boy perhaps, but easily one of the most cacophonous songs on the entire record. Funnily enough it starts pretty normal, with these groovy guitar riffs and a fairly standard ¾ drum beat. Yet it very quickly descends as Gira gives an incredibly strange vocal performance which while not as commanding like Screen Shot or manic like Just a Little Boy is unsettling and kinda makes my skin crawl a little bit. The relatively simple and groovy sound of the song very quickly descends into what I can only describe as a hellish cacophony of sound. It dials back, beginning to build up again with added chimes and piano chords as Gira gives this very guttural vocal performance. It’s not animalistic like Oxygen or earlier Swans work like Filth or Greed, but it’s still quite intense. These soft background vocals begin to layer into the song, and while I have no idea what the fuck they’re saying, it’s super atmospheric and adds to the soundscape of the song perfectly. It then goes back into that hellish cacophony of sound with blaring brass and galactic synths, it’s horrifically intense. It’s another buildup and release that shows an utter mastery of ebb and flow, minimalism and maximalism, exactly when to push and when to release.

The lyrics themselves are also quite interesting, comparing a god to a child, and the imperfections that arise in both. Phrases like “Pink little lamb on a granite slab” alluding to what may perhaps be a religious sacrifice in name of this little god. The refrain before the 2 walls of sound is “Oh yeah, oh yea. The universal mind.” which could perhaps be in reference to the “word spirit” that’s referenced in the poem The Second Coming by Y.W. Beats. Both pieces make reference to god and have overwhelmingly dark and drab tones to them. It’s another song where Gira seems entranced by the little nothings about life that we never really give thought to. Comparing the power of a god to just human nothing's like bleeding and excretion. Giving this manic joy to the aspects of life and love, yet condemning and revealing the utter meaningless to them all in the same breath. It’s utterly intense, utterly disgusting, and utterly magnificent. 10/10

Bring the Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture: A fucking behemoth of a song at 34 minutes, yet just like Screen Shot, Just a Little Boy, and A Little God In My Hands it’s built and resonates with sublime precision. Offering brutal guttural moments alongside very transcendental, dimension ascending instrumental progressions. It’s home to some of the best moments on the entire record to be completely honest. Some of the best “lay back and just let your eyes roll out of your sockets” moments on the album are here, where the music just hits you full force. From the beginning where it slams in with a repeating guitar and drum crash, pounding and destroying all in its wake, to when it breaks and we enter a intermediate stasis. Carried by drones, light guitars and drums, this small stasis begins transformation, transformation into one of the most overwhelming pieces of instrumentation on the record. Babbles from Gira transform into chants of “BRING THE SUN!” underneath a chorused chant. Small cymbal taps become a layering, utterly jaw dropping snare pattern, which just becomes smashing cymbals. Bass chords and guitar licks build and become amorphous masses of energy and flame. It feels like Gira is leading a cult, and they are succeeding in bringing the sun down to earth, and the world is being scorched in flame and agony. The earth is ablaze, and its captured by the sonic atmosphere in a way I can only say is just mind melting. You can imagine everything through just the sonic palate and texture alone. And then the sound bursts.

We then travel from Bring the Sun to Toussaint L'Ouverture, and these 4 interstitial minutes are fantastic as well. Floating within pockets of little guitar licks and bell taps, until Gira comes in with his commanding yell of “Freedom”. Following is just an incredible swell of sound, guitar, bells, everything. This then bursts, you’re left in the darkness, wondering what happened. Then you hear the light dings and taps of cymbals, into an electrifying snare hit, into Gira’s scream of “TOUSSAINT! TOUSSAINT, L’OUVERTURE!!”. What follows for the next 10 minutes is a song that, while not mind melting like Bring the Sun, is unsettling and restrained in a way that builds tension and suspense. Even if Gira is giving some of the most unhinged vocal performances on the record. Some vocal passages literally just dissolve into him rolling his R’s, barking like a dog, or actually just screaming gutturally like in the final few minutes or so. And like i mentioned prior, the moments when Gira just descends into babbling or muttering incoherently, letting the songs speak for themselves, are some of the strongest in the entire Swans discography. While not as sonically overwhelming as Bring the Sun, Toussaint L'Ouverture has this sludgey ethereal quality to it. It creeps slowly along, with little sounds and textures coming in between pockets of sound. A sudden blast of snare hits, tiny cymbal taps, a gloriously unsettling jangly keyboard smash. The sound palate is unsettling, sludgy, languorous and creeping. It compliments the smashing crashing sun bursting sound of Bring the Sun near perfectly.

Lyrics aren’t especially as prime a purpose on Bring the Sun, mainly just repetitive chants of said phrase. On Toussaint though, the lyrics have purpose. Sung in both French and Spanish, he repeats certain phrases like “Blood of God. Son of God. Love of God.” and “Liberty. Equality. Fraternity.”, that phrase specifically being the national motto of Haiti. The song itself is titled after the man who lead the Haitian slave revolution, Toussaint L'Ouverture. Gira in past interviews mentions Haiti as a kind of fulcrum for everything both negative and positive in the world. A place wrought with exploitation, from capitalist pigs and from Haitians themselves. It’s a fascinating idea to make into a song, and it does match the themes of the record. The aspects humans do to one another and why we specifically do them, in this case being exploitation and ruin. God, this song is, it’s beyond fucking perfect. I have no complaints, lyrics, sound, production, everything is crisp and vibrant and full of color and sound and energy. One of the most overwhelming songs I’ve ever listened to, and a 34 minute song i could repeat until my ears go fucking numb. 11/10

Some Things We Do: The shortest song here at only 5 minutes, and serving as the end of the 1st disc to this album. It’s a slowdown, much needed after the brutal awe-inspiring power of Bring the Sun. In that pure sense of offering a cooldown I think it’s absolutely necessary and placed perfectly, but in regards to the sonic palate I feel it falls somewhat flat. Yes, it’s laced with these beautiful yet creeping strings and waning synths that soar above the rest of the song. And yes, Gira lists out all the different things we do as people. Mainly bringing up the lines “We love” and “We fuck”. It’s similar to Screen Shot in how it lists out the aspects of life and us as people, making them appear vain and without meaning. This song does feel in line with the rest of the album in theme and spirit. It’s beautiful, yet at the same time it feels like, a little bit empty. My only real faults are that it’s probably the most repetitive song on the album, and arguably the least standout song on the record as well. Lacking the buildup and intensity of every other song on here, even songs like Kirsten Supine. In the grand context of the album, I feel Some Things We Do does fall a little flat. Still a fantastic song, but in the face of the other songs here it lacks some power. 9/10

She Loves Us: This track kicks off the 2nd half of the album, and I think it’s one of the most direct and grooving records on the album. Instantly it builds in with this fantastic frenetic bass crunch and drum pattern. Later adding in jangling guitars, a background vocalist going “Nanana, na, naaa” and eventually Gira just coming in babbling mania. I can’t understand anything he’s fucking saying, but damn it sure sounds good haha. Eventually this bursts and we’re lead into another ethereal pocket of sound, floating in interstitial space. This gives way to guitar feedback and slamming tom hits, until it eventually all reduces to a simple bass riff. Once again the buildup begins again, layering in an utterly infectious drum beat and guitar pattern into my head, it’s something you can just jive your head to and have fun with. Gira then comes in with one of his more strange vocal performances on the entire record. Not as brutally intense as Bring the Sun or Oxygen, or creeping as Just a Little Boy, but god he chooses some weird inflections to take with his words. What is undeniable is the aggression and power he places into his words, even if they are phrases as nonsensical as “Your name is fuck!” or “Come to my mouth!”. They blend into the production and crisp instrumentation perfectly, adding this special ingredient that just ties everything together. The groovy drum pattern, the chimes and bells, all of this concocts into a swirling vortex of chaos, energy, passion, and power. A dedication of humanity, of life, of love, of death, of sex.

That specific theme of sex and meaningless in it is abundant heavily with She Loves Us. Specifically the youthful ideas of false love, sex and that intrinsic lack of passion in said meaningless sex. Youthful abandon, seeing these connecting mystifying aspects of love and sex as little more than carnal pleasures in the now. The title itself alludes to it, She Loves Us. The song includes lyrics of people inviting others around houses and gatherings simply for sex, passion and love notwithstanding. Constant references to meaningless and celebration, being most apparent in the repetition of “Your name is fuck. Hallelujah!” in the 2nd half of the track. Contrasting a sentence where a person is reduced to nothing but a sex object to a chant for a godly divine figure. Hell, the title itself alludes to love, an intrinsic contrast to the utter lack of it within the track. In both lyrics and sound, this is a great start to the 2nd disc, and a great follow up to the slow languorousness of Some Things We Do. Not as strong an opener as Screen Shot, but few things are. Still perfect. 10/10

Kirsten Supine: A nice slow down after the kick in the mouth She Loves Us was, another slow languorously creeping track dripping in despair and wallowing sounds. Soft plucks of guitar, a drone that inspires melancholy, a buildup into layered female vocals joining Gira’s, slight drum hits, small chimes, eventually bursting into a huge colossal wall of sound, with crashing cymbals and bells alongside a genuinely frightening droning synth. It’s captivating and churning with power. The lyrics themselves are quite interesting to read, taking imagery and context from the Lars Von Trier film Melancholia. Specifically the scene of the main character (played by Kirsten Dunst) stares naked into the blue planet soon to arrive and turn the world into naught but ash. Specific stanzas and lyrics from Gira mirror this theme, lines like “May moonlight fall upon your breast” and “May planets crash. May God rain ash. To sear our skin. To fold us in” being direct references to the scene within Melancholia. Yet, of all the tracks I’d say this is the least stand out. It’s the only track here besides Some Things We Do where the buildup of intensity and layering isn’t done to pitch-perfection. It’s the only song on here where I feel it can sometimes drag on a bit too long, where the others are the perfect lengths and have utmost precision and intelligence to their cacophony. It is by no stretch awful indeed it is an awe inspiring song. Yet, with the context of the prior 6 songs before it, and the 3 songs to follow it, Kirsten Supine feels a bit empty. Nothing worse scoffing at, but not as strong as it could be. And it is more than made up for by how strong the rest of the record is. 9/10

Oxygen: Probably the most urgent song on To Be Kind, and fuck I love this one so much. Starting off with this absolutely sinister guitar riff, it layers in more sounds as the song progresses. At about 8 minutes, it’s actually quite similar to Screen Shot in structure, yet the execution is far more primal and intense. After about a minute of the riff, these explosive drums come in and I love it. Each hit of the snare sounds like a gunshot, it’s so powerful. Gira isa monster on this track, this is the most animalistic and unhinged he’s sounded in a song since the early no-wave Swans on records like Filth and Cop (1984). It’s primal, and horrifically intense, more than every song on this album. This breaks again when he gives the vocal performance about how he body is hurting as he is denied oxygen, only to scream out “I’LL STEAL ALL THE OXYGEN” and come back in with even more intensity. The final minute of the song is one of the most primal and ferocious pieces of music I’ve ever heard. Drums blast, guitars scream, horns blare, and Gira is just fucking screaming nonsense, completely unhinged and with complete ferocity. You can hear the fucking strain in his vocal cords, the bubbles in his throat, it’s so unhinged and intense that every time I listen to this song it does 1 of 2 things. Either I just sit and absorb it all, or my blood starts pumping so hard I have to go punch something. The final few seconds as everything crashes in between this hit of the drums is compelling, and caps off the song perfectly.

Lyrics are also pretty primal, being written about a time Gira had a particularly bad asthma attack, being conscious but unable to breath. The song itself sounds like a man trying to surface for oxygen, yet being denied. Gira screams out things like “Oxygen! Amen!” hailing the base instinct of animals rather than a higher power. The interlude between the 2 pieces of the song talk about his body and its pain. Lines like “Feed my mind, Dance and spin, cut a hole” among others show the desperation in Michael's body to try and obtain oxygen. It’s primal, it’s ferocious, it’s disgusting and it’s animalistic. And it’s one of the best songs on the album. Just perfection. 10/10

Nathalie Neal: A much needed cool down after the throttling blood pumping intensity of Oxygen, starts in one of the most interesting ways I think any song on here does. An ambient sharp drone kicks on, and subsequently Gira’s babbling low baritone vocals get layered into and meshed with the drone to make a hypnotic interstitial bubble of sound and energy. Actually reminds me of the song A Piece of the Sky from the album prior to this one, The Seer (2012). Little sounds and synths layer into the drone, eventually leading to an audiotape recording of none other than Nathalie Neal herself, an individual Gira cared for and was a close friend too. This sample gives way to a small acoustic guitar pattern, which repeats and layers into one of the more groovy and infectious sounds experimented with on the album. Like She Loves Us, but more commanding. Each hit of the snare sounds like a horse galloping, the song literally sounds like charging into a battlefield with heads held high. Perhaps knowing you may perish, but finding comfort in giving your life for this duty. Gira’s vocals are another key piece to the power of this song, they sound monotone but commanding. Constant repeats of “Hey hey hey Nathalie!” and other lines in reference to Neal herself show his genuine love and compassion he felt for this woman, dedicating the song in her memory.

Unlike the rest of the album which takes dark, synoptic, and unassuming gazes at that which binds us as people, this songs lyrics seem like Gira’s own cries and dedications to Nathalie. Ascribing lyrics like “Love is strong, hate is gone. Live forever in this song.” and “Cut your name on to the sky” show Gira’s genuine compassion he had for her as a friend. Stating that love remains strong, any hatred he has ebbed away, and that she can exist forever within the song. She won't be forgotten after Gira’s death, she’ll forever have a piece dedicated for her, that will exist until infinity’s mouth closes. It’s genuinely kind of charming, seeing a man as untethered and intimidating as Gira can be dedicate a song to a friend he misses is a little warming to see. The song itself is another masterclass of tension and how to perfectly place and build intensity and crescendos of sound and color. A perfect fit right after a song like Oxygen, and another favorite from the album for sure. 10/10

To Be Kind: This is one of the best songs on the record (surprise surprise). It's unyielding in its brutal intensity, yet also calm and precise in the beginning, slicing through with razor sharp accuracy. It begins very folky and acoustically soft, something that could fit on My Father Will Guide Me Up a Rope to the Sky (2010). Gira sounds very soft here, as he repeats specific lines with the mantra “To be kind” and “To be loved”. Akin to something like Screen Shot and Some Things We Do with the repetitious aspects of life. What makes it though, are the final 4 minutes of the song that begin with these wailing guitars and echoing cymbal hits. It’s the push and pull, every time you think the cacophony ends it slams back in with even more intensity. Screaming guitars, crashing and punishing drums, whirling synths. Like Screen Shot it’s like a sonic odyssey, yet only even more manic and huge. Every smash of the this sonic wall of sound is louder and louder than the one before. Until it fizzles out and you’re left fucking shaking in your chair or on your couch cause of how utterly manic it is. It’s incredulous. The best description I can make of this song is that it’s like a post-rock simulation of a newborn child kicking and screaming being born into a world of cruelty and the worst humanity has to offer. At the same time though, I think the final few minutes of the song feel like the sonic equivalent to drowning, being pulled up for air as a false lull, and being re submerged until you drown. It’s overwhelmingly intense, probably the most brutal piece of the entire album. more cacophonous than any prior point on the album I feel. Even cuts like Oxygen or Bring the Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture don't reach this level of brutalism and maximalism. I think the flip interpretation of it being a newborn child/being a simulation of drowning kinda reflects some of the themes of this album. Life, death, and what makes us who we are as people. It’s a fantastic encapsulation of the entire sound and lyrical palate of the entire record. A fantastic cut, and probably the best ending an album like this could have. No issues with it. 10/10

Final thoughts + rating: An album that, in every sense of the word, inspires me. As an artist and an individual placed in this shell of a body, albums like this are what drive me to improve and create that which surpasses me. Bodies of work like this are what motivate me to create art the way I do. Bodies of work like this are what make me understand the wonderment and disgust we can entrap and ensnare ourselves with simple human relative aspects. Bodies of work like this are what show how ideas and energy can be conveyed through sound alone, how to embrace sound as a passage into a life and a place greater than us, into a transcending place where Man is God. Bodies of work like this, are what I feel should be mandatory listens.

Anything lower than a 10 would be criminal for this album, I truly feel that. It is such a commanding, sheer mystifying wondrous monster of a record, that I can’t bring myself to give it anything else besides a 10/10. If you have yet to listen to this album, please, please fucking do so. Let yourself be taken by the overwhelming sound Gira and company have created here. Let yourself be consumed, and see what it really means to be human. To see what lies within us and beyond us. To be vengeful, depressed, obsessed, carnal, joyous. To be kind.

Favorite songs: Screen Shot, Just a Little Boy, A Little God In My Hands, Bring the Sun/Toussaint L'Ouverture, She Loves Us, Oxygen, Nathalie Neal, To Be Kind

Least favorite songs: None of them, they’re all fucking fantastic

#swans #swans (band)#to be kind #tbk #michael gira #album analysis #album analysis' are back baybee!!

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gamehayapkmod · 4 years

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Escape from Sasgris

Game Escape from Sasgris là dòng game Adventure

Giới thiệu Escape from Sasgris

What do you do if you wake up alone, in a strange place? You don't know where you are, but you know you want to get out from there. Because that place makes you shiver. Use all your intelligence to be able to open all the castle doors, one by one, and finally escape. Maybe. Discover the hidden truth; discover your sarcasm and your ability to solve puzzle, solve riddles, or at least try to solve them. If you think you're not tough enough, try harder. Believe in yourself. Follow the footsteps of the adventurers who preceded you. Don't worry, there are no zombies here. Nor can you die. At most, you will be stuck. You could finish the game in 10 minutes... or 10 months. We have included so many quotes, including songs, books, movies, tv series, video games, poems, ... that we too do not remember them all. And you, could you find them all? HIGHLIGHTS -riddles, puzzles and enigmas (which is more or less the same thing); -simple and complicate logical tasks; -intriguing atmosphere; -ok, there are less than 100 doors, but the rooms are excellent to explore; -immersive sound (when they work); -intelligence and stupidity try to live together (and they don't always make it); -a lot of heterogeneous quotes; -memorable examinations; -trophies or achievements (depending on the brand); -small package (less than 3MB); -grainy graphics (well, it's not really a plus); -a strong feeling of déjà vu (this is not really a virtue either); -this is the last point, it's better stop, we have already written too much nonsense. DISCLAIMER It's true there is advertising, but we must buy a Mustang for our chief developer (and an electric bicycle for other developers 😸). If really you don't want to see the advertisement, just launch the app with no internet connection, it should do the trick. TIPS -examine everything, multiple times; we have added clues inside special items details; -due to small screen and low performance, sometimes you have to re-touch an item that you think that you've already touched; -if you don't like the soundtracks, just lower the music volume in game settings; -if you are stuck, try to go back; some items are in previews rooms; -if you are really stuck, ask a friend to help you; -if you are really really stuck, try to leave a 4/5 stars review with a specific question, maybe we will answer (well, not always). *** FREE COMPETITION *** Take a screenshot at the end of the game (last room opened, revelation, or credits) and sent is to us via email. The first 10 players will receive a numbered certificate of completion. Relatives, friends and neighbors of a previous winner will not be accepted. The competition expires on 30/09/2020 or at the tenth winner. SHHHHT! Just for you, who have discovered this FYEO note at the end, here there is the solution to open the first door: EXAMINE Monkey PICKUP Hairpin EXAMINE Fish PICKUP FishingHook GOTO RightDoor USE Hairpin ON RightDoor USE FishingHook ON RightDoor USE DOOR Fixed BUGs (one more time)

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Tải APK ([app_filesize]) #gamehayapk #gameandroid #gameapk #gameupdate

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betterinthedarkblog · 7 years

Text

K{NO}W

—after Anne Carson

Your profile said you liked to know a person’s boundaries and then break them

I should have known you’d figure out my boundaries sooner, not later that they were more than “hard limits:” no public; photography; no scat; tell me what you are going to do before you do that— and only proceed if I consent

When you texted me to text you a compliment, I should have known you’d turn my soul’s only outlet into another tool for your domination that you’d usurp my means of communication every hour making me message you how pretty you are

When my words dried up and I had no praise for you left, my creativity spent and you stopped texting me—I should have known not to relent I should have known you’d want to abuse more than a writer’s flattery...

but when you texted me that you wanted to cut me up and eat me how should I have known to take your desires literally?

I thought your words were terrifying and blocked you deleted our message history/deactivated my profile location settings unshared/read receipts disabled because the monsters were out of the closet and they were real/and I was scared

When I ghosted you, I should have known you’d come back to haunt me for I’d taken a screenshot of that monstrous text disgusted (and perhaps intrigued) in case it might need to somehow be used someday as evidence: Exhibit A

Your number at the screenshot’s top, remained— what a shrewd mistake!

When I tried to purge you from the recesses of my memory, you were pushed to all my Apple devices simultaneously.

Nothing’s lost/in trauma/every detail’s ingrained What we try to forget gets archived/repressed/retained

so 3 weeks later when over-worked abused via text by mum who’d gone berserk I went searching again for the cannibalistic man who said he’d only been joking and found your number easily atop a screenshot sub-catalogued in my iCloud Photo Library texting you, “I’m back.” “Sorry I was such a scaredy cat.” You replied, “[Had I] no sense of humor?”

The truth is: I don’t In fact, of all the genres I especially disprove of the top of my list are satire, farce, and improv I like to laugh, but only un-ironically I should have known this was no comedy later that night at your flat when you choked me and bruised my throat making it impossible to speak could you have known I’d go on the next day to enter a queer, qualifying slam at the New York LGBT Center where I wondered to myself [silently]:

Why do all slam poems begin without poetry? I did not know self-expression could feel so like High School Forensics. You who begin the slam with what you call “sacrifice:” What poets are not sacrificial? When did poetry become a blood sport? As you turn poet against poet, head-to-head, I find you cheer for those you already know and what sounds literal, anecdotal, superficial. When through my poem whispered the prime-time feature he should have known it would cause me to forget my words like the sudden-onset of atheism upon a sidewalk preacher My voice—he did not know the pain, what ailed me: psychic, neurotic—but also of:

how the night before you’d assailed me how you threatened to impale me with a samurai sword you’d forged yourself while you punched me with my own fist & asked me

Who knew where i was? Who had i told where I’d be going that night? How many friends knew i was there?

3 i cried i lied/i told no one because no one cared because I’m too sick/stupid/naive/queered death-seeking/lost/melancholic/anti-social/fatherless/intolerable ashamed the only boys i meet are ones who must clobber me before they go to sleep

I should have known you’d try to take my voice I should have known this was not a joke I should have known life is not a boundary that can be broken

I should have known my wanting for my throat to be full was a wish for words, for coherent speech: to share, to touch—my soul’s outreach; not for your cock, not for your fist, I did not desire to be choked out—

but in the dizzying-dizziness of trying to hold onto consciousness wanting to vomit where there’s something that’s in it already asphyxiating and not knowing who would save me the words would come if I survived and I would survive if my words didn’t fail me; and survive I did.

Anne Carson writes, Shame lies upon the eyelid We blind ourselves so that we do not know {She was glossing poetic of how humanity’s Oedipal} We do not want to know so we do not see My eyes are open now lids held like the harum-scarum boys from Clockwork Orange, only it’s by myself

My neck still hurts; lidocaine wash I hourly swish This thick solution: it’s a shrewd analgesic. And it’s true I will never return the copy of Slade House that you lent or your daily texts, because my words for you’ve been spent But my voice, it’s full now, and it’s rising When you tried to kill me, I should have known— Your intent was always clear from your writing.

When I speak, it may be in a whisper, it may not qualify me for your teams or your system, but something’s afoot that’s of more consequence than making people laugh at analogues and metonyms for my will’s been rising e’er since and can’t be forgotten these words are for me, i write this poem to teach myself all these things I should have known.

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