Monday, August 22, 2011

The story of CENTURY


Story as seen in Red Giant, the new album from Philadelphia metallic hardcore masters CENTURY. This is big time. My family talks to me through an agent.

The story of CENTURY is simple... During the Dark Ages a Virgin Mother birthed a child at the very moment her eunuch husband was subjected to the most brilliantly wicked of medieval torture available at the time in the local town square. It was an unusually painful birth, even when not taking into account the emotional distress involving her significant other—a man name Claudio on trial for thievery after stealing a ration of bread to feed the crippled pigeon he saved from the mouth of a tiger. As she gave her final push to bring her unborn child into the world she heard a roar from the townsfolk signifying her loved one had been lost. The nurse shrieked in horror upon lifting the child and seeing its unique attributes. It was not human, but an immortal two-headed zebra with a striped torso and skinny human arms and legs with hooves. Curiously, the head on the right side resembled a giraffe with a neck no less than two feet long. The left head had violent bulging eyes and snarled at the lady holding him. In terror, the nurse dropped the children, breaking said extended neck near its middle before fleeing the room with haste and starting a life of harlothood. The mother picked up her young sons and her life even after her devastating loss and the tragedy of her newly crippled child. It was years before she decided to name the earthly abominations, but she went Aris for the awkward giraffe-looking one, and Alice for the more normal zebra, in hopes of subduing his malicious masculine nature. As her humanoid zebrachild grew older Aris remained a passive counterpoint to Alice's studiousness and overt intensity. When Aris wanted to walk Alice wanted to charge, causing his brother's head to sway from his broken neck like a large construction crane. It wasn't long before the Mother discerned which one was good and which was pure evil. One night she gathered in her dark room alone, lit only by one crimson candle. She pulled out a two-headed voodoo doll given to her by a friend from Pagan Craft (the medieval equivalent of Spencer's Gifts). Oh, but her evil son at the age of eight was too cunning. Guided by suspicion, he caught the Mother just before she plunged a needle into the left head of the doll. He knocked over the candle to catch fire to the hem of her dress. Aris aimed his head down in shame, granted he usually did that. From then on the evil brother guided them to unspeakable atrocities as the other head watched on in horror and passive helplessness. The deep reign of cruelty stemmed from an angst beset by cruel fate. Only a retaliation against all could justify the stares and ridicule. The terror reached its height with their contrived execution of the bubonic plague. Even in his holy innocence Aris could no longer endure the condemnation to bear witness to such a vivid personal hell. The epiphany arose that although he could not kill his immortal sibling perhaps he could cripple his brother as so callously he once did to him. One night during the evil brother's slumber he devised his plan. There beside him he rested quietly likely dreaming of death and destruction. The now righteous giraffeheaded brother quoted: Even if we are immortal, we can still find a way to kill each other. He swiveled his awkward neck and bit into his sibling's face with a viciousness that had not yet been witnessed on the planet. Alice hauntedly looked on at the moon without resistance during his devouring. That night he lied next to a bloodied zebraheaded brother—in name, not in blood. Upon waking he discovered his worse half no longer functioned on any relevant level, reduced to the likeness of a drooling, shock treated, lobotomized patient. It is said Aris and his moaning, seizuring sibling still exist within the darkened confines of Germany's Black Forest and scour the trails eternally seeking redemption. Though rarely noticed in the flesh, for some reason he's often seen in the dreams of precocious pagan Pennsylvanians. No, the story of CENTURY isn't as complex as this entirely unrelated true story. CENTURY are just a bunch of guys who gathered together and made nu metal music and don't consider themselves a real band.

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