The Metal Burns And Cries!!!

I decided to pseudo-scientifically write the most metal song ever based off of the Metalness quotient in the following, well-reasoned and executed analysis. I can't vouch for the results as I have not replicated the experiment but the results appear sound and well-researched.

Heavy Metal and Natural Language Processing.

Let's start "The Metal Burns And Cries" by pulling from "Most Metal Words" at Rank 20 by moving all the way down the list and then we'll pop the stack from there. Change some word forms, add a yeeaaahhh!!! because I don't believe any metal is complete without guttural utterances.

As we move up the list, our metal lyrics start to surge with Metalness. Rising up from the besotten metal-less words that have been forced to the bottom of the top 20 list by words that are more HEAVY METAL!!! RaaAAaagghhh!!!

Intensity rising as we reach the creshendo a rollercoaster and dropping weightless through the atmosphere, screaming Hell yeah!!! and flashing the Sign Of The Horns...

For the chorus, we're just going to the top of the list starting with the highest Metalness quotient and BURN the listener with the "Most Metal Word" that exists. We'll prefix it with article "The" just to tame the Capsaicin blow and additionally we'll change the word form to "burnt" in order to prevent physically damaging the listener, who we would like to live long enough to be a fan and buy our recordings and merch.

...but then, they will die.

Unlucky number 13 ends our song...with a Goodbye.

This lyrical maelstrom of future audible death lies below. Handle it with CAUTION!

"The Metal Burns and Cries" (c) 2016 Timothy Lee Russell

Released under the Tag license. Tag your recordings with @hyperubik and share them on Twitter. I really want to hear your metal versions of this, like pronto! Arrangement is yours. If you can work in a couple of the top 20 "Least Metal Words" and have it not suck, you ROCK!!! But, it will probably suck if you try to do that. Once you post your version, I'll link to it and you will be a #MetalHero.

Scream at the flames
Tear at the reigns
Pray the gods dream
Say goodbye to the sword

Sorrow, sorrow my soul
Ashes, Demons, DEMONS, yeeaaahhh!!!
Gonna flame the beast
breathe into eternity

the burnt cries of his veins
eternity breathes the beast

the burnt cries of his veins
eternity breathes the beast


Basic Powershell setup

# Enable Powershell scripts

Set-ExecutionPolicy RemoteSigned

# Set home directory

Test-Path $profile
New-Item -path $profile -type file -force
Notepad $profile

# In profile init script, permaset home folder and any other
# evil AI components that might need to be running

"=                                       ="
"=           Welcome Overlord            ="
"=                                       ="
"=      Awaiting Your Instructions       ="
"=                                       ="

$homeFolder = "C:\Users\***Username***\Documents\WindowsPowershell"
Set-Location $homeFolder 


Powershell to discover IPs and host name bindings in IIS

If you ever need to figure out which IPs and host names are bound to which site…this powershell works pretty good.

# Get binding names

Get-WebBinding | % {
    $name = $_.ItemXPath -replace '(?:.*?)name=''([^'']*)(?:.*)', '$1'
    New-Object psobject -Property @{
        Name = $name
        Binding = $_.bindinginformation.Split(":")[-1]
} | Group-Object -Property Name |
Format-Table Name, @{n="Bindings";e={$_.Group.Binding -join "`n"}} -Wrap
# Get binding IPs

$websites = Get-ChildItem IIS:\Sites


TMK - Recluse Reckless Wolf

Recluse Reckless Wolf
intro G  Bm
D  A  C    Bm  F#  C/Cm   G  Bm  F   C  G  F#

People don't have to kill
other people but they will
I'm not going to kill tonight
but some other people might
You can only do what you
put your mind and soul into
making it alright

Animals through and through
some of us deserve the zoo
maybe if we all had food
everybody'd act less rude

I guess we let the guys up top
mold our minds into a thought

stay on top

Is it that it's really true
your future self is up to you
a recluse reckless wolf
dressed in someone else's wool

was wrong to think that he could stop
the things that human progress brought
he was wrong
we'll go on
without him...

© Copyright - Snoffleware Studios LLC

The "Jar Dog" dream

Standing on a dilapidated porch, searching for a phone, car broken down on the side of the road -- fifty miles out from the last town as memory serves. The air is humid and paint is peeling from the walls. The air is hazy and condensation is slowly forming into trails on the dusty windows -- small muddy rivers taking unpredictable journeys, diverting as much as gravity will allow. No one replies to several vigorous knocks on the rickety door.

There must be a phone inside. Rachel checks the door, it is locked. We tromp through the half-mud to the back of the house and peer in through the screen door. The scattered house, its array of disorganization speaks of abandonment and indeed the house feels empty but it is not.

At the end of the hallway sits a round table on which a clear glass conch rests, emanating the muted whimpers of the miniature malnourished puppy trapped inside, parts of its twisted body magnified several times by the curved glass. Sickened but strangely fascinated and filled with empathy for this poor animal, we fail to notice at first, the man who slips into the room.

His wild hair, long fingernails, and frightening countenance fail to distract us from the cold black steel of the gun, which despite his shakes remains trained, accurately enough, at various parts of our bodies which we consider vital.

His first words, "The hardest part is getting him into the bottle before I leave for work in the morning."

Discovered Stardate X

If you had needed to speak from space in a voice heard through time — inscribed in the mottled rock of a burnt-out asteroid you would have done so. The inside walls of the pitted husk inscribed with symbols and pictures. The paint could not glow, could not impart meaning because it had never been applied to the walls with careful hands, minds thinking forward to the souls that would sit on rusted canisters pondering the meaning of the undeciphered language.

The mild gravity of the rock trapped stray atmosphere, not enough to breath but enough to notice the occasional speck of dust float past the plexathane bubble of a suit's helmet. The writings were conspicuously absent as they littered other ruins -- something set this desolate rock apart from the rest of the locations that had been found, both on the primary inhabited planet and the outpost colonies scattered through the solar system. Nowhere could be found — any technology which would have allowed this civilization to settle other planets and asteroids.

Though some means of colonization must have existed, all trace of it was now gone. Hidden for a purpose certainly, as settling a colony could not have been a small undertaking and it was carefully cleaned up, the means of travel between the home world and the colonies carefully stowed away, hidden or at least obscured from careful inspection.

Teleportation was the favorite theory among lay people but the team of xeno-archaeologists dismissed that summarily, as did the physicists who were consulted in the matter by the science inquiry board — a commission of career diplomats and orphans — who sought to provide answers while collecting and collating all existing information about the recently discovered astro-location.

Tiny Animals

If only they were less like small animals, Andrew thought, seated in front of a huge array of lcd screens, watching the interlace draw fuzzy dots as it cycled. He pressed one of the screens lightly with his pinky, watched the fractal pattern ooze out from the focus of the tip. Nowadays, it seemed everything was a pattern but he didn't mind. Patterns intrigued him, engulfed him, and made him as close to giddy as an Emotional Level was going to get.

"Well, everyone has to make a living," he thought to himself as he began to type, a crescendo of bits worming their way into the system, replicating, broadcasting, backing themselves up, and generally working themselves into a tither. Each line of code spoke softly of its decisions and mandates. Each method call invoking a neighborhood of guild workers, highly-trained in precision craftsmanship, to burst from inactivity for a common good.


( As with all of my writing, best when read aloud using the voice of Christopher Walken )

I'm wearing glasses now at age 43 for the first time since I was quite young. I probably should have started a couple years ago. I didn't recognize the increased cognitive load that my vision problems were causing because it showed up gradually. Now, with no headaches for almost a year I've come to realize that eye strain was the root cause.

It's wonderful to live in an age where we can augment these fragile meatspace bodies with technology. Before 1268, if you had vision problems, you were pretty much screwed. ( Museum of Vision )

Wearing a single contact, just in my bad eye, is better than glasses because of the fisheye / blur issues. However, we really need to invent some lenses that can auto focus. Personally, I would be willing to pay a lot for a solution.

Maybe there is hope: Google, Novartis and EPGL in Race to Develop First "Autofocus" Contact Lens

older posts

throbbing mattress kitten


the drought and draught of hope

"splashed with a sense of place, this set of tunes wafts out of the northwest u.s. of a., leading you on a restless journey while crisscrossing the footsteps of pioneers. in this revolution of time, we all feel the drought and the draught of hope."

archaeology confession 192

"a field recording recovered many years after the crumbling of modern civilization, this document chronicles the experience of one man's journey before, during, and after the fall."

elderly tunes

"10 years of chaos, captured on the first five tmk albums, collected now in a single compilation."

why not listen to this?

relax by throbbing mattress kitten was chosen at random from the 184 songs available to you.

more music...

© 1999—2016 Timothy Lee Russell


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