WWII Blood Chit
So this is a Blood Chit. Let’s just sit on that for a minute. Sickest band name of all time and that’s not a game I usually like to play. You don’t die in the pit at that show, you never make it to the pit. There is no pit, there’s just a wall of sound and a giant boxer that punches you when you try and enter the show. Here’s my ticket, now you’re blacked out. Metal. But the reality of this thing is even metaler. Soldier’s carried this shit in their jackets so if they got shot down they could communicate in several pertinent languages who they were and that they needed help. Fucking metal. This one is WWII era. I hate all things war and violence, violently, but this sort of piece is so fascinating. Formally beautiful, unifying, universal. It aims to communicate peace and need, but the context of its use is extreme violence and terror. Formal aesthetics in the service of escaping terror.
11.5"x9" flat
So this is a Blood Chit. Let’s just sit on that for a minute. Sickest band name of all time and that’s not a game I usually like to play. You don’t die in the pit at that show, you never make it to the pit. There is no pit, there’s just a wall of sound and a giant boxer that punches you when you try and enter the show. Here’s my ticket, now you’re blacked out. Metal. But the reality of this thing is even metaler. Soldier’s carried this shit in their jackets so if they got shot down they could communicate in several pertinent languages who they were and that they needed help. Fucking metal. This one is WWII era. I hate all things war and violence, violently, but this sort of piece is so fascinating. Formally beautiful, unifying, universal. It aims to communicate peace and need, but the context of its use is extreme violence and terror. Formal aesthetics in the service of escaping terror.
11.5"x9" flat
So this is a Blood Chit. Let’s just sit on that for a minute. Sickest band name of all time and that’s not a game I usually like to play. You don’t die in the pit at that show, you never make it to the pit. There is no pit, there’s just a wall of sound and a giant boxer that punches you when you try and enter the show. Here’s my ticket, now you’re blacked out. Metal. But the reality of this thing is even metaler. Soldier’s carried this shit in their jackets so if they got shot down they could communicate in several pertinent languages who they were and that they needed help. Fucking metal. This one is WWII era. I hate all things war and violence, violently, but this sort of piece is so fascinating. Formally beautiful, unifying, universal. It aims to communicate peace and need, but the context of its use is extreme violence and terror. Formal aesthetics in the service of escaping terror.
11.5"x9" flat