Still ugly... Still broke... Still grindcore... (Pt. 3)

...no time to do too much lately, but at least I have time to buy good music.

In the last two weeks I bought something that everyone should have at home (at list once, I got them twice...), plus other interesting stuff.

Enjoy it.
...or don't.
I don't care.

Note: no time to edit. In case of typos get over it.



1) The good ol' ones:

Deicide, "Deicide".

That's it. Glen Benton declared war to christianity with Deicide, and this one was the first album. A must-to-have. In the 1990, this album was probably one of the most evil thing in the air.

Deicide, "Legion".

Two years later, Deicide came back with another master piece of Evilness. Even faster and heavier than "Deicide", with this album Glen Benton literally declare war against a lot of people.

Anthrax, "Attack of the killer B's".

Crazy EP from the NY thrasher. Funny songs, hard-core songs, ra songs.... All together mixed with their classic sounds. A lot of "pure" thrasher complained about this album, and this is already a good reason for having it.

Napalm Death, "Fear emptiness, despair".
...because they are the father of grind core for a reason.

Sepultura, "Schizophrenia".

Second album of the Brazilian thrasher. Not too much to say: "Troops of doom" is in this album. 'nuff said.

2) The old, but somehow new:

Deftones, "Around the fur".
It was the only Deftones' album that I was missing. It is so damn good. There is anger, desperation and sickness in it. Those are the Deftones I love.

Baroness, "Red album".

I love Baroness, and I'm so sad that they split after the van crash.I love the blue album, and I've literally consumed the green & yellow album... Finally I got the red album, their first work: still a little direct and not so rich in melodies like the other two, but still a really good masterpiece.

3) The dark, depressed and black corner:

Wolves in the throne room, "Celestial lineage".
Brrrr, it's cold in here, really cold.

Watain, "The wild hunt".

I knew them only by name, and honestly it has been a really nice surprise. Classic old school black metal, with a touch of melody here and there. Really nice surprise!

Sometimes you eat the bear...

...sometimes the bear eats you.

I'm quoting the greatest movie ever to explain my situation here.

After the super-hard august, I'm a wreck: terrible ankle pain, terrible back pain and so on.

It's not the age, it's the mileage (quote from another great movie)...

...well maybe it's also the age.

Anyway, with the age/mileage, comes the wisdom. I don't want to increase the damage, so I won't run the Rough Creek this weekend. I was supposed to run the 40 miles, but in these conditions I just don't want it.

So fuck it: it's time to heal now.

I will have my revenge on the 50 miles of Cactus Rose at the end of October.

Peace & GFY.

All the sadness of the World in a plastic hold.

Yesterday I went to climb in the damn climbing gym.

It was a while since last time, 'cause I'm very busy and I'm more focusing on my next ultra.

Anyway, I thought it could be nice being there and climb, but it wasn't like that.

Not at all.

Climbing on plastic is so sad and pathetic and ridiculous and demotivating.

I was staring at the other climbers: like brainless monkeys, we're trying to reach the top of a wall, and then jump down.

Where's the thrill? Where is the danger? Where is the "being out of the comfort zone" feeling? Where is the smell of the rock, the feeling of the pain, the magic of a wood, the blood on your fingers? Where are all of those things in the plastic-climbing situation?

Plastic climbing is so damn stupid and useless.

It's only train. You train during the week and you climb (real climbing on real rock) on the week-end.

For a lot of people (new generation?) climbing starts and ends in the fuckin' climbing gym.

Climbing is something completely different.

...and this thing really pisses me off.

I love climbing. Climbing is part of me. And it really chops my heart in half knowing that nowadays for a lot of people (and unfortunately, also for me), climbing is just a pathetic "aerobic activity" performed on plastic inside a damn gym.

So sad.

Brainstorming (Pt. 5)

Busy like crazy, not time for doing anything.

Here some random thoughts.

Peace and gfy.

- Sick and tired of this hot, humid weather.

- I'm so NOT prepared for the Rough Creek 40 miles.

- ...but at least i'm getting back my motivation.

- *clongk* this is pretty much the sound that my ribcage made 3 days ago: it was painful, but now I can breath again.

- Ah, the fine art of writing grants.

- I'm constantly hungry...

- "I'm an immovable stone in your world of weak" Pantera, Regular People (conceit).

- Listening to Reinhold Messner talking shit about indoor climbing was priceless. Unfortunately, most of those shirtless-douchebags-brainless-climbing-gym hamsters don't even know what I'm talking about.

- Lately I'm listening a lot of really bad & nasty music. It's relaxing.

- CFH.

- My list of injuries is longer than my grocery list.

- Still waiting for the new TooL album...

- Milky way galaxy cool pictures.

Chewed, partially digested and spitted out...

...that's exactly how I felt after the Capt'n Karl's night ultra 60 km of 2 weeks ago (August 8 2014).

As I promised 2 weeks ago, here is the report.

Let me start with an observation: Colorado Bend State Park is a really nice place to go and visit. So do it.

...and this is true. I arrived there and the place inspired me, and before the starting gun I was psyched and ready to go and kick some assess.

Off course it was warm as hell, we're in Texas, in August, but the heat didn't ruin the mood.

7 pm arrived, and it was time to go.

After 1 nice smooth km, the course changed radically, and it was time to climb some hill. I really enjoyed the first loop, I was really fast and everything was working well.

I immediately understood that the course was really, really, really, really, really hard. Up- and down-hills on stones and gravels and rocks and boulders coming out from everywhere. Every steps was a step toward a possible fall with a possibly dangerous outcome. Anyway, I managed it and in the end of the first loop I was 4th (or something).

Unfortunately, my ankle (already in pain for the stress of the last 5 weeks of races) started to bother me. And not just a simple small and manageable pain.

Nope.

Real fucking pain that went straight to my brain at every steps.

...and off course, in these occasions, it looks like that every step is made intentionally to hurt  the ankle a little bit more.

In a couple of miles, the dream turned into a nightmare.

Every normal human beings would have already given up. But not me. I'm an asshole, and the only idea to give up was even more painful than my poor ankle. So, go ahead jackass, finish this fucking thing.

Did I mentioned it was night? Because it was. We started at 7 pm, so at the end of the first loop it was completely night.

Headlamp on and keep going. Off course in these situation everything was harder: you have to figure out where to land your feet and where the course is going.

Poetically (aka, lamely), I like to think that I was out there alone, completely in the dark surrounded by my nightmare and fighting my own demons. And somehow it was like that. But I won.

...but I suffered for every single steps.

At lot of runners drop off, a lot of runners didn't finished it.

I finished it in bad conditions, bleeding, in pain, tired, but I finished it and I'm proud of it.

I finished 15th overall out of 75 (or 100something, don't remember), and it took 9 hours and some minutes...

I should be up-set for the bad result, but I'm happy instead because I learned a lot of things.

After the finish line I was a wreck: vomiting on one foot because I couldn't use my right foot.

Someone could call this "insane", I call it "epic".

Did I like it? Off course.

Did I enjoy it? No. Not in those conditions.

Will I do it again? Off course.

I could go on and on and write about "the need of pain" for the "feeling-better-later" feeling, or more easier, the need of "punish myself"(for something that maybe I deserve, or maybe not, I don't know) but it would be very lame, and I don't know if it would be understood by someone: it's a very personal process...

So, go fuck yourself.

That's it.

Hug a tree in the dark.

"Pissing and spitting from bottom to top

picking up viscera, tendons and broken remains..."

Exactly. Well done Baroness.

Milestone.

We are the leftover of society.

(CSH, 8/15/2014)

Leaving for Cold Spring Harbor...

Quick post: I'm leaving now for Cold Spring Harbor for the conference "Mechanisms and models of cancer".

I won't be able to post anything for a week.

When I'll be back I will write my report on the Capt'n Karl's 60 km: the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life.

...so far.

Since then, listen to Slayer.

Peace and hug a tree.

P.S.: my talk is on Friday afternoon. Wish me good luck.