A Human Disaster™ @fredrickrasputin - Tumblr Blog

The black side of noise and industrial

This video looks at black artists who have worked within, around, and against these sounds — from early experiments with tape, distortion, and studio manipulation, to contemporary projects pushing noise and industrial into new territory.

Some of these names sit directly inside the scene. Others exist at its edges. All of them reshape what these sounds can be.

This is not a complete history. It’s a focused look at presence, contribution, and continuity.

uboatheflesh

Today, I have outlived the release of this record by 7 years. Would be nice if this record would be less relevant, and was simply detailing a difficult time in both my life and in our shared history that has long since been confined to the past. Sadly our world had other plans. So did my autonomic nervous system. It never ceases to surprise me when somebody states that this record helped them come out. If being trans is social contagion that spreads by promising happiness, then this is probably the worst advertisement for 'transgender ideology' conceivable. Probably because it is evident that transitioning has nothing to do with happiness at all. I am still not a happy individual, and have come to accept I likely never will be. If you start using a utilitarian calculus on your own life - and your life has been a difficult one simply because of who you are - then you quickly come to some dark conclusions. That is exactly how I ended up in the ER of St. Vincent's Hospital months prior to this records release. I didn't realise this record was 'honest'. In reality, I censored the lyrics heavily in order to obscure references to real people using metaphor. Stuck on what to sing about, I was told to "write what you know". I followed this advice literally. I wasn't really aware of the taboo around singing about the topics of the record things I discussed - depression, dysphoria, regret, sex work, abuse etc. It is honest simply as I did not read the room. I did not realise that for most people in music social convenience and money were more important. Things are more difficult now than ever. They may be difficult for the rest of our lives. But what makes lives bearable is not happiness. Happiness means very little if you are surrounded by lies. Suffering likewise becomes unbearably pointless without reference to a truth. Without truth - and acting faithfully upon that truth - nothing is bearable. That is why we have such high rates of attempted and completed ... well, you all know the story of the cover already. However, I'd still like to make a case for remaining alive. -- 2026 marks 10 years since I came out and began medical transitioning. As of a few days ago, I am on the waitlist for a sex change (yes, sex can indeed be changed!). I tasked for a BA too, as Ritalin seems to keep me too thin and flat for my liking. The list is free but the wait is years long - and I still have a lot of rehabilitation from chronic illness to do before getting a surgery that will mess me up for months (and will itself require more rehabilitation). However, the very fact that such a service exists - provided by the Monash Gender Clinic - is a privilege, even if it is slow. The wait is likely going to be more painful than the recovery, the dilation or the inevitable complications. I thought I had minimal dysphoria regarding my genitalia, but really it was cope. It built up slowly over time the more I neglected it, to the point of it wrecking havoc on my self-confidence and relationships. I'd like to wear a bikini or use a change room without my life being in danger. I'd like to have a comfortable bath without bubbles or sex without zoning out. I just want to be done with it, so I can move onto the next problem. Sorry, chasers. But turns out despite all the truthfulness I allegedly demonstrated in my music, I still wasn't being totally truthful with myself. --

And that is really what the record is about. Admittedly it has taken me years to really understand my own record, as I was very dissociated while making it (while abusing dissociatives). It isn't primarily about depression, or any specific mental malaise. Many cis people seem to get the record too - so it is more than about being a stereotypically depressed transsexual too. It's about something else, perhaps. While it is true that truth is good, it is not even remotely pleasurable. It has nothing to do with happiness. It is often completely indifferent to our wellbeing. For Plato, escaping the cave is certainly not pleasurable. It is easier to remain in there seduced by the puppets casting funny little shadows on the walls. The light outside hurts. It's too bright. But there are far more important things at stake. "Slowly, [her] eyes adjust to the light of the sun. First [she] can see only shadows. Gradually [she] can see the reflections of people and things in water and then later see the people and things themselves. Eventually, [she] is able to look at the stars and moon at night until finally [she] can look upon the sun itself." (edit mine) Upon seeing the sun for the first time, would it not make sense for this prisoner to feel a deep and profound grief? Would there not be a period of mourning all those years misspent in the cave? The discovery of a truth is not joyous - truth rarely has anything to do with joy at all. Truth hurts. Facts don't care about feelings. Why is truth so slow, and so difficult to encounter? Why is she so fragile that it can easily be redacted without consequence, or shattered under the butt of a gun? This mourning is also melancholia, as not some external object that is lost, but ourselves. We are nothing without the truths that make our life intelligible and bearable. Once you start seeing truth as painful, suddenly the horrid age we live in makes a lot more sense. Might as well just seek (sadistic, nihilistic, empty) pleasure instead. It is certainly easier. So I guess that's the message: be honest with yourself even if it makes everything worse. Live for something more than happiness. Don't survive merely out of spite, as spite alone does not grant a life meaning. Nor does happiness. Something more is needed. Live for a truth that cannot be calculated, even if it tortures you. No love, artwork, scientific discovery or political revolution - or transition - can be reduced to a mere utilitarian calculus. You don't need to believe in a god to commit oneself to the Absolute. You won't have fun, and you won't be happy. There's unlikely to be any reward for doing so in the hereafter. But you will be able to bear the life that you currently have. You will have a life that makes sense. Love what you will never believe twice. Fight for it too.

Happy valentines day -Xandra

what-even-is-thiss

I do not celebrate death on principle but I do find it interesting that Charlie Kirk died via the thing he advocated for. Like who’s writing this political novel we’re living in. The symbolism’s a bit heavy handed if you ask me.

what-even-is-thiss

He was basically pro school shooting and then got shot in a school. Like. I mean.

what-even-is-thiss

And he was debating someone about gun violence while it happened. 1940s sci-fi levels of heavy handedness.

yaoiblackmold

He got shot while answering a question about the numbers of mass shootings in America, too. His last words were literally "gang violence"

what-even-is-thiss

I don’t believe in karma but if I did I’d say that’s a pretty good sign that he’s about to be reincarnated as a mosquito.

humphreybogie

Since the Feds are now offering a 100k reward for info on Charlie Kirks shooter, it feels like a great time to remind everyone that the snitch that turned in Luigi Mangione never got her promised $60k reward money. Don't do the FBIs jobs for them lol they will not pay you.