I sincerely dislike youtube videos of amazing live concert phenomena.

For mixed reasons really, but mostly because i feel like much of the content is tarnished under a bit of, "yeah it's alright, but not that good because I wasn't there," and, "I can only feel like, now, having seen this video I will not care as much about the fantastic novelty behind it, because somewhere in my mind I will be expecting it from here to forever." I really don't need the advance leverage to use criticism to dismantle my fun in moments I've never experienced. Believe it or not, the low res version with poor audio layering - is not, in fact, the ideal way to share your experience. A good story would do a damn sight better for the mysticism behind it.

That said, I love life footage from concerts I'll never be able to see (aka dead folks performing/people who is too old to sound good: that's directed at you lou.) So in summation, I guess.

Suspects he's spent too much time dwelling on the confluence of deadlands, absurd conspiracy theory and Lovecraftian madness lately - last night I had a dream that the fabric of reality was thin enough in Cory's house - that it had enough fear in it over sixty years to let a demon start scratching through the walls of reality to the walls of Cory's master bedroom. It left a message that said it had seen the stars awake and galaxies die, signed it's name on the wall. Through blind defiance alone I didn't search for the source of whatever was tearing me out of bed, as silence so deep settled in my ears and blocked out my thoughts in only the way decades of dust and ash can. I was dragged around what could have once been a room - but now was a shadow cast by particles in the air about to fall, held in by the stutter of moonlight. I think the sheets trapped me, and I think I'm saying that so I feel better about the fact I wasn't what I know to be afraid, but couldn't move all the same... I woke up and wondered if I would be the sort of person to believe in haunting, after enough dreaming.