Electric Jon summons the spirit of El Kill Kill
The ‘NAM (Ninja Album Myth) is the Sacred Ninja Text that tells the story of El Kill Kill, The Painted Fist, LeCLoud, and The Invisible Death written by the Unkown Ninja (aka Electric Jon).
satellites raced across the sky, until the clouds swallowed their path from view.
the night bled from the stars like a million ravens stoned on mdma, liquidly slipping past the fuzzy horizon of the green and pink mushroom dawn. the ninja shit come sci-kill, go frizz frazz, got zapp points, etc. shiriken day-dream training grounds covered with an army of robot renegade funk mercenaries, carving sub-bass (20-80 hz) frequencies across the planet.
“shaking things up”, if you will… 10,000 showdowns and gallons of blood later… four renegade robot break beat assassins struggle to re-unite and defeat captain progress (work is progress.net), freeing the bass-slaves and returning to the 10th dimension. each ninja possesses a special knowledge of the music of the spheres, invisible vibrations which help outline the physical nature of our reality. the night bled from the stars like a million ravens, recently fallen in love… dripping down across the equatorial dawn, past jungle leaves and mushroom trips, and smoke and mist and green and pink kissed, lost in the sunrise dream scene of the bright wet morning. the ninja known as the invisible death lifted his sword high above his head. its silver blade broke bamboo with a crack. he checked his compass. ” satellites must be down.” el kill kill was nowhere to be seen either. binoculars digitally scanned the sun drenched horizon. nothing. he’d have to get started if he wanted to make the 2pm check point. the mosquitos were coming. flocks of them. the invisible death tied his ration pack tightly to his ribs, and dove into the river. he let it pull him down stream for awhile.
BASS agents stormed the capital, armed with sound cannons and a delusional sense of entitlement. le cloud puffed his medicine pipe from behind the freedom station. shaking out the ashes and strapping on his sonic reducer, he made for the capital building.
on the other side of the planet the painted fist pranced across several rooftops, skidding into a chimney and ping ponging off of a garage door. he’d lost the squad cars long ago, but they’d be back. “must keep moving.” the painted fist was a master of rhythm. a real skin basher as well as face pounder. he knew how to pick up a party, and he had a whole lot of practice.
tpf raced along the side streets, eyes scanning for the score…
el kill kill was up against the deadly bass-masters… squares think this is about fishing.sub sonic bass assault from sound towers and audio cannons… deadly vibrations consume the un-initiated and drown the squares in funk and fish hooks. el kill kill connected the wire from his distortion machine to the plasma powered utility belt… noise core addicts creamed themselves, right in the middle of the street.
the invisible death pulled himself from the water and shimmied up onto shore. exhausted, he flopped on his back and stared at the sky. white plumed vapour trails shafted across the ozone.
the painted fist came across a video rental storefront. it was an archetypical check point. video stores, comic shops, arcades. looking for witnesses, he smashed door’s window letting himself in, to disengage the alarm. a night shift employee dropped an armful of videos. ” holy shit, it’s the painted…” , and… chloroform.
le cloud polluted the capital building with a ballet of smoke bombs, disappearing himself, in a dance of smoke. shape shifting reptiles from the 7th dimension fled shortly afterwards. slithering out from the stinging smoke, they squirmed and coughed and ran for their hybrid cars. hurrying home to destroy legislative evidence, before taking their own lives…agents of politico. proud captains of a dying system. a dead routine.
kept alive by smoke and mirrors. the anti-funk army patrols wasted no time dissecting the bass victims…
the sound revolution went on for months, years…decades. el kill kill and le cloud found each other first. they still search for the rest of their team. across all of earth and time…
in the raven choked night.
the world is sick… the world is dying… the world is media… the anti-dote: ninja funk the witch doctors? the ninja funk orchestra.
peace and safe travel under fall of night. and may the blade guide you and the bass bump you along. electric jon aka the unknown ninja.
check out more from electric jon here: electricjon.tumblr.com/?
Below is a video of Electric Jon reading the myth at the beginning of one of our Mod Club Shows. Check it out.
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