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Throbbing tumblr

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What Leary took down with him was the central illusion of a whole life-style that he helped to create…a generation of permanent cripples, failed seekers, who never understood the essential old-mystic fallacy of the Acid Culture: the desperate assumption that somebody — or at least some force — is tending that Light at the end of the tunnel.

The Sisters of Mercy and Psychic TV are both bands defined less by their intentions and more by their reception.

The industrial aesthetic that Gen and Peter had created in Throbbing Gristle was impersonal, colder than cold, a kind of futurism anxiously preoccupied with issues of mechanization, regimentation, totalitarianism, power, and control.

Its music is a bleak, fractured, challenging soundscape fashioned out of what were then unprecedented experiments with electronics, overlaid with often improvised rants on often shocking topics.

Both the Sisters and Psychic TV are understood as dark and cold. But what spawned them? It claimed it was Year Zero of a pop-cultural revolution, with all the old dross tossed out.

Some punks viewed the s counterculture with contempt as a co-opted and failed revolution. Others were too young to experience it, and simply found the detritus of its popularized and recuperated music and fashion boring and outmoded.

Aside from a hardening and sharpening of the fluffy, flared aesthetics, punk sought to wipe out at least two major aspects of the s counterculture.

Punk, at least rhetorically, if not always in practice, sought to destroy the divide between performer and audience, to demythologize the rock star, or perhaps to offer the opportunity to be mythologized to any kid in the street with the gall to learn three chords, dress up, and form a band.

The second reviled notion was that of some transcendent solution, sought through consciousness-expanding drugs, communal living, far-out theories, mystics, gurus, free love, frolicking together nude in the fields.

Punk was cynically secular, harshly realist, and very much in the world. It spat about hate, war, frustration, boredom, alienation, unemployment, riots, fights — what was going on under the Westway, in Brixton, in the suburbs, in Belfast, in the Falklands.

At most it might have pretensions to political radicalism, as least it wanted to get pissed and destroy.

But it agreed things were shite and laughed at anything that wanted you to have faith and lift off into the clouds of peace, love, psychedelia, self-realization, and enlightenment.

The first generation of punk, for all its apocalyptic proclamations, produced little more than sped-up Chuck Berry riffage.

But its rhetorical pose opened up the doors for all types of unconventional music, convinced all sorts of people that they could do things for themselves, and built up an underground audience that could be led off in any number of directions.

In that sense, practically, the Sisters of Mercy and Psychic TV could never have gotten very far were it not for the punk precedent and the way it informed the musical culture of the s.

That said, neither band could be said to have been born out of punk, or ultimately to have very much in common with it aesthetically or ideologically.

In fact, both bands, in drastically different ways, looked back to, and continually meditated on, relived, and reinterpreted the legacy of that very period that punk had worked so hard to stamp out: the s counterculture.

Sisters vocalist Andrew Eldritch is well-known as a vain, arrogant, self-aggrandizing diva. His lyrical opacity recalls Leonard Cohen, and his amphetamine-tense delusions of grandeur recall Bob Dylan.

Genesis P-Orridge was a devotee of psychedelia and all its most extreme performance-art-bent permutations long before punk, and indeed long before Throbbing Gristle.

If psychedelics push your consciousness to the limit, strip your ego bare, often nightmarishly confront and crumble your preconceptions, Throbbing Gristle could certainly be said to be truly psychedelic music.

They sought answers left and right, something to give a new transcendent meaning to the naked existential panic produced by the drugs.

Many seekers followed Timothy Leary in placing faith in the psychologically revelatory potential of the trip itself.

Many turned to some permutation of Buddhist practice or followed Hindu gurus, their imaginations piqued by the wisdom of what they assumed to be the sage and more spiritually pure East.

Others got into more home-grown alternative religions, becoming druids and flocking to Stonehenge, reconstructing witchcraft as a nature-based pagan cult, or pursuing the great work of ceremonial magic, making Aleister Crowley a posthumous superstar.

Many simply became susceptible to any kind of superstition, grabbing into the mixed bag of divination, astrology, ESP, conspiracy theories, Atlantis, crystals, and UFOs.

Genesis was neither unaware nor in denial of this dark undercurrent of psychedelic consciousness, nor of its potential for psychological manipulation.

They pushed a professedly positive message, laying out theories and practices for participants, and as time went on, their aesthetic and approach became increasingly explicitly hippy and trippy.

Consciousness stripped bare, the quotidian world made alien, they harbor no illusions about new ways forward, new meanings to fill the void.

No one is tending the light at the end of their terrifying tunnel. We see this drug casualty flailing in death with walls, the psychedelic state not some cut-up method to liberate life, but a weirdly self-imposed trauma which one has to survive.

Let your imagination fill the void of the balloons. I hope you enjoy this experiment. Tentadick version for those who are worried Venoms massive balls slapping against their ass might wake their neighbours.

This whole sequence was a ridiculous fluke. It was supposed to be a quick 2 hour pic or less, but i liked it so much that I made a variation.

Then another. And yes, I know it looks more like Conner…I failed lol. Link for the full image sequence. Artist: Kubbs.

Brock can destroy my fat ass with his even fatter cock. Is he thick as he is hung? Artist: Snowskau. Artist: UTX-Shapeshifter. Please send a email to tumbex.

Obviously, they decided that my site was no longer acceptable and they set up specific rules so that tumbex users no longer have access to the contents of tumblr.

It's unfortunate, I loved tumblr, that's why I created tumbex. Using tumblr with an easy, clean and efficient interface was my goal.

Because to be honest, their interface is really to be reviewed otherwise you would not be here. It is therefore with great sadness that I announce that you are living the last moments of tumbex, it was a great adventure, and a big thank you to all those who have followed me during all this time!

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Throbbing Tumblr Video

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Others were too young to experience it, and simply found the detritus of its popularized and recuperated music and fashion boring and outmoded. Aside from a hardening and sharpening of the fluffy, flared aesthetics, punk sought to wipe out at least two major aspects of the s counterculture.

Punk, at least rhetorically, if not always in practice, sought to destroy the divide between performer and audience, to demythologize the rock star, or perhaps to offer the opportunity to be mythologized to any kid in the street with the gall to learn three chords, dress up, and form a band.

The second reviled notion was that of some transcendent solution, sought through consciousness-expanding drugs, communal living, far-out theories, mystics, gurus, free love, frolicking together nude in the fields.

Punk was cynically secular, harshly realist, and very much in the world. It spat about hate, war, frustration, boredom, alienation, unemployment, riots, fights — what was going on under the Westway, in Brixton, in the suburbs, in Belfast, in the Falklands.

At most it might have pretensions to political radicalism, as least it wanted to get pissed and destroy. But it agreed things were shite and laughed at anything that wanted you to have faith and lift off into the clouds of peace, love, psychedelia, self-realization, and enlightenment.

The first generation of punk, for all its apocalyptic proclamations, produced little more than sped-up Chuck Berry riffage.

But its rhetorical pose opened up the doors for all types of unconventional music, convinced all sorts of people that they could do things for themselves, and built up an underground audience that could be led off in any number of directions.

In that sense, practically, the Sisters of Mercy and Psychic TV could never have gotten very far were it not for the punk precedent and the way it informed the musical culture of the s.

That said, neither band could be said to have been born out of punk, or ultimately to have very much in common with it aesthetically or ideologically.

In fact, both bands, in drastically different ways, looked back to, and continually meditated on, relived, and reinterpreted the legacy of that very period that punk had worked so hard to stamp out: the s counterculture.

Sisters vocalist Andrew Eldritch is well-known as a vain, arrogant, self-aggrandizing diva. His lyrical opacity recalls Leonard Cohen, and his amphetamine-tense delusions of grandeur recall Bob Dylan.

Genesis P-Orridge was a devotee of psychedelia and all its most extreme performance-art-bent permutations long before punk, and indeed long before Throbbing Gristle.

If psychedelics push your consciousness to the limit, strip your ego bare, often nightmarishly confront and crumble your preconceptions, Throbbing Gristle could certainly be said to be truly psychedelic music.

They sought answers left and right, something to give a new transcendent meaning to the naked existential panic produced by the drugs. Many seekers followed Timothy Leary in placing faith in the psychologically revelatory potential of the trip itself.

Many turned to some permutation of Buddhist practice or followed Hindu gurus, their imaginations piqued by the wisdom of what they assumed to be the sage and more spiritually pure East.

Others got into more home-grown alternative religions, becoming druids and flocking to Stonehenge, reconstructing witchcraft as a nature-based pagan cult, or pursuing the great work of ceremonial magic, making Aleister Crowley a posthumous superstar.

Many simply became susceptible to any kind of superstition, grabbing into the mixed bag of divination, astrology, ESP, conspiracy theories, Atlantis, crystals, and UFOs.

Genesis was neither unaware nor in denial of this dark undercurrent of psychedelic consciousness, nor of its potential for psychological manipulation.

They pushed a professedly positive message, laying out theories and practices for participants, and as time went on, their aesthetic and approach became increasingly explicitly hippy and trippy.

Consciousness stripped bare, the quotidian world made alien, they harbor no illusions about new ways forward, new meanings to fill the void.

No one is tending the light at the end of their terrifying tunnel. We see this drug casualty flailing in death with walls, the psychedelic state not some cut-up method to liberate life, but a weirdly self-imposed trauma which one has to survive.

The Sisters dwell in the grim meat-hook realities awaiting failed seekers: on their black planet, when you tune in and turn on, you burn out in acid rain.

Perhaps the ultimate heightened state, by this line of thinking, is murder. The video showed them in beads and bright colors, playing with a fish, dancing in a convertible, and frolicking on the beach.

This sing-song psychedelia is perhaps so unsettling because it reminds you just how much the psychedelic state is like childhood — everything is bright and weird and wonderful to the imagination, but meaning is uncertain and fragile, and almost anything is as liable to terrify as it is to delight.

Gen had full faith in this peace-and-understanding pill, and got involved in popularizing this style and scene.

By the end of the decade, the Sisters were pop successes, with a host of offshoots and imitators, most famously the Mission and Fields of the Nephilim, and hordes of devoted, black-clad, longhaired fans.

These groups were the Led Zeppelins and Black Sabbaths of their day. Log in Sign up. This is a particular bara-manga: there are no dialogues.

You create the story. Let your imagination fill the void of the balloons. I hope you enjoy this experiment. Tentadick version for those who are worried Venoms massive balls slapping against their ass might wake their neighbours.

This whole sequence was a ridiculous fluke. It was supposed to be a quick 2 hour pic or less, but i liked it so much that I made a variation.

Then another. And yes, I know it looks more like Conner…I failed lol. Link for the full image sequence. Artist: Kubbs.

Brock can destroy my fat ass with his even fatter cock. Is he thick as he is hung? Artist: Snowskau. Artist: UTX-Shapeshifter. Please send a email to tumbex.

Obviously, they decided that my site was no longer acceptable and they set up specific rules so that tumbex users no longer have access to the contents of tumblr.

It's unfortunate, I loved tumblr, that's why I created tumbex. Using tumblr with an easy, clean and efficient interface was my goal.

Because to be honest, their interface is really to be reviewed otherwise you would not be here. It is therefore with great sadness that I announce that you are living the last moments of tumbex, it was a great adventure, and a big thank you to all those who have followed me during all this time!

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