Signature Design




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Wu-Tang Clan “Triumph (Instrumental)”



This is our signature design. Before you recline and we commence our timely rhyme, please allow us to elaborate so as not to exasperate as we’d hate to frustrate you by not talking straight, thus desecrating the mental states of those patiently waiting for some kind of nickel and dime explanation. You see, this factory just happens to be a hive of automation; a fluid drive for modulation; and the blueprints to our transmogrification are stacked up and backed up inside. Archived in the study are a number of unmentionables; the stuff we learned and then unlearned as we learned of just how questionable their suggestions were. Deferring a fair share of society’s false declarations, in the time it takes a sub-atomic particle to play the part, we pulled our pallid flesh apart, true to the art of liberation. This rousing declaration decorated each pulse and every last convulsion brought us closer to the ultimate in composure. We’re talking maximum traction and exposure to mull over and neither one of us intended on foreclosure.

Thus we perused, renewed, and transfused. Every node which we stroked spoke highly of this collusion and disputed the allusion that this was merely a delusion, brought on by the heat of said fusion. No confusion or human error clouding our judgement as we don’t judge and won’t judge but you can judge us and we won’t judge. Much too busy are we being utterly zen, time and time and time over again, these waves they crash but we reboot in a dash of the time it takes to stash a fat stack of cash in a Pontiac. Make that a Cadillac and throw in half a bottle of Jack, then maybe we can chat and, who knows, perhaps steer things back to where we were at. Crystalline. This, as it transpires, is fundamental to our signature design. Times two. We may blind you with science but this is not in compliance with anything overly defiant. Neither do we administer any slow working poison or wait until the twinges begin and scatter blighted syringes within the dingy fringes of your psyche. And, if we do, then we do so politely. Please, don’t mention it. No really, you could get us in trouble. And, if we know life like we know damn well we know life, then we know all too bloody well it’ll make it a double.

In the time it takes a nanoscopic iPod to shuffle, we slid into our new skin, and that is two skins no longer two skins as only one skin can be the true skin. Call this intrusive but don’t think us elusive when we refrain from entertaining faceless information as we’re tired of facing up to facts which, in actual fact, barely qualify as pulpy fiction. If only we’d read between the lines back at the start, then perhaps we wouldn’t be sat here now, existing through our art. And, in our book, that’s a grim thought pulled taut. As the thing which this taught us was the tale of The Hare and the Tortoise. We all know how this fable played out as good fortune quite clearly favors the devout. Quaint tale. Of that there can be no doubt. But we reckoned it could do with being fleshed out just to further test the gray matter out. And let’s face it, you can’t devour a rib-eye steak platter without a bit of harmless splatter.

As a matter of all things factual, we retract that last statement as we’re all about containment and wouldn’t dream of being so blatantly complacent as to engage in mindless banter with our mouths full. We remain mindful of our guests at all times. As we may test the boundaries of public decency with astonishing frequency; but our benign spines mean far less harm than charm. This is not to suggest we intend on walking straight lines, but we do talk that way, so guess that qualifies our chaos reign as organized. Besides, this new skin is delightfully dapper and, do you know what, we have never ever been happier. Never been more seen. Never once so serene. Never felt more felt. Never wept so clean. Never ever failed to leap. Always in way too deep. What explanation could there possibly be for not chasing the great white to the end of the sea just to bleed by its side and share in its pride as its dignified glide cuts through the blackest of tides like it won’t be denied as, let’s face it, it won’t be denied. Each time the tide turns, we learn. Every time the flame yearns, we burn. Sometimes we take it in turns to start blazes and, we swear down, the pyrotechnics are downright amazing.

Though it hits us in phases, never once has it missed a single beat. No retreat or surrender, no returning to sender, no curious agenda, nothing spurious to tender. Just one true, real and sincere connection. That one clear reflection respected enough for an infinite firewall to be erected. No formal request made, no terms of condition, no wars of attrition, just a new skin to exist in. Through a little persisting, we finally found that one thing profound enough to morph into mist if it wishes, slash throats open to gloat… if it wishes. Dishing out the dialect like it’s halfway out of fashion, but there’s a double dose of passion in every last thrashing, and we’re really rather smashing when you get to know us. We may just grow on you. Should your flesh commence burning then we guarantee we’ll blow on you. In a roundabout way, you could say we’re just showing you the sights we see as we see such sights. Not all of them are nice. And a fair few are frightful. But blind eyes they turn to save faces from bruises. Neither snoozing or losing, we live and we bloody well learn.

Thus, we cordially invite you to burn alongside us, and together we can walk a new line which can guide us. One forged, of course, from the purest Crystalline. Non dependent on time. Transcendental of reasonable rhyme. Most resplendent it cannot be denied. Our veins they run in parallel lines, as could yours, should you choose not to exclude our rivers of grue from the shrine of your bloodiest hearts. Quench both the light and the dark from our art. Spit out the bones if they stick in your throat. But don’t see fit to pick us apart. As there’s nothing to pick, you see. And, if you do see what we see, then you’ll need no reminding, that this is our signature design. So, do you like it?


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    1. We do love a bit of eek. Plus we love the idea of being bound together by blood flow as we really are insanely connected.

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