Over recent days I have heard some troubling mutterings. Through this vast network of tunnels and caves, the familiar odour of distopia has wormed its merry way up Barnaby's botanical stink vents. It would appear the natural order of things has been disturbed. The delicate balance you landys happily defecate upon has been upset and a chain reaction begun. The start of this cataclysmic domino run? Our very own Salem, OR. As previously reported the Brut, somewhat foolishly in retrospect, decided to undertake a musical soiree in Salem's The Space the Saturday last. Much fun was had by all and by accounts our jaunty ensemble went down like a juicy meat treat. However, such was the power of this melodic maelstrom, that it was heard by unintended ears. You see, my interlove, deep below the hustle and bustle of Salem's downtown district something slumbers other than sausage gravy and Eddie Argos' cold hard regret. For thousands of years, a frozen hulk has slept soundly under America's Pacific Northwest. Last seen approximately 130000 years ago, this icy behemoth was sealed under Marion County, OR by unknown powers in order to thaw the perpetual permafrost that was strangling the planet. Now, he's back. See below for a rendering of Frostius, god of ice.
Bow before Frostius!!!!
A direct result of Art Brut meddling in affairs of which they have no understanding. Nature can be a fickle mistress...