--Here we present to you a short parable about the need for demanding more out of your concerts and a dead musical industry, which is perpetuated by your lack of caring.
That, children, is the sound of gentrification.
That, mortals, is the sound of one hand jerking off without a dick.
That, fools, is what exists beyond the iron curtain of irony, which simply spins on a baroque ferrous wheel absent even the interiority that a monad may have.
That, plebians, is part of the problem.
That, you hollow men, is the purest of muzaks.
This, children, is why you can't have nice things.
