In a world full of capricious behavior, we chose anger. In its purest form, it serves as creativity. We chose to make music for freedom, not for status. We've stripped off the mask of crybaby "artists" and started from the roots, where we're miserable and useless. We praise this moment: we got nothing to lose.

In life, everything makes sense until it eventually does not. Nothing has meaning, not this paragraph, not this music. The only thing that survives are ideas. Ideas make us great; ideas outlive us. Ideas are courageous, ideas are pure diesel. We LOVE ideas.. We love doing this, we hate everything else.

Let the mill be your stop for a while. Think about it.

At the mill the sun rises west and guitars have five strings. Free will is stupendous, and we've taken every slice of it.