the bleeding edge

where some operate without anaesthesia, painful pleasure of chafing life - the wave of interogation, pointless information grating out of the khmer krahom central command - the heart of the jungle where interpol can't police, you gotta fight the commies by proxy, the extremists and the jewel theives, your allegiencies are so hopelessly perverted and

there's no database entry for the village leader chopped up for fertilizer, just human entropy and burning bodies - just one holocast in a long string of them, i'll churn up deadly factoids like slayer without the metal riffs

choke the rivers with the dead, firewater and bloodstream, never thought it had undone so many, hold onto the rails and puke at the gritty realistic slaughter of the untermensch, someone's gotta carry out the role

and somewhere, somebody is masturbating to Schindler's List