Gnaw
This Face

Finally!

Yes, finally.

It was frankly about time—I was beginning to have my first doubts—that our enlightened, well-meaning, magnanimous rulers realized that a significant part of their subj... er, citizens (sur)live daily in miserable, trivial, microbe-ridden, often stinking hovels; the so-called "Housing Plan" i.e., the "Urgent measures for economic recovery through the revival of entrepreneurial building activities" is finally a tangible reality!

The decree, as you will have read, leaves wide discretionary margin (I would dare say, coherently with the legislator, freedom) on the types of interventions to be implemented in our dilapidated homes, not specifying in detail even what instruments should be most appropriate to equip oneself with for the demolition (or destruction) works to make our indecorous shack the most luxuriant of the dépendances.

Here we jubilantly arrive at the utilitarian object of the anti-review: do you finally want to take advantage of a nice potential 20% (doesn't it reek just a bit of a bribe?) of extra space within your patched-up hovel and simultaneously save on the considerable costs of demolishing internal and/or external walls? Well, Conspiracy Records has entered into a tacit agreement with the legislator for the implementation of the first and most urgent measures in the matter: firstly, equip yourself with sufficiently powerful speakers, then identify the wall to be pulverized by calling upon the three masters blacksmiths, Alan Dubin, Jun Mizumachi, and Jamie Skyes; the only recommendation is to rotate the stereo’s sphygmomanometer clockwise to the maximum: only thus will they generously perform for you a work of rapid pulverization to the precise rule of art, thanks to their catastrophic et atrocious melange based on vocal cords shamefully tortured and a super-cacophonous electro-industrial-harsh-noise performed with literal fireworks.

From the initial interventions carried out, brick intimidation is not necessary even through the assistance of the entire mephistophelian platter’s emission: a few well-targeted track(s) [the initial "Haven Vault" or the terminal—in every sense—"Shard"] should suffice and be more than enough for the surgical demolition action: after this, all that remains is to call your little brother/nephew with a passion for protractors and set squares and have them trace the new spatial coordinates (so everything at the architectural level comes out a bit more naïve) of the new, finally spacious, sumptuous little house!