That being essentially what this is: a living story. It's unfolding now. Whether or not it is spoken about once it has passed, who is to say? But right now it is occurring, and for how long it continues is down only to the protagonists who sustain it. The players keep the game alive. But first you have to build the play ground, for that is one of the core fundamentals behind existence, and thus of Basstrology: Fun. Nature is a hedonist. What was it about somebody saying something about being born into perfection and learning mediocrity? It feels strange that we should have to work so hard just to feel normal.... So what are we working on? Well basically, we're building a circus! Why run away to one when you can wack one up in your garden instead. Well, not necessarily a garden exactly, more a field to be precise. And as great stories often do, this one begins on little farm in wales. First step, construction.
So the rough plan is pretty much loads of hectic shit going on all over the shot to womping music. Thinking circus, what do we need? Well, first step is obviously a tent. So dear universe, please manifest. It wasn't long after Basstrology was born that it just so happened that a friend of ours wanted to get rid of a gert marquee and offered to us cheap... bingo! First stage complete. Its 12 x 6 meters, plenty room enough to get a party going. A bit grubby but then so are we. We thought of it as more of a blank canvas, a holding space for greater potential. lets face it, in this wet climate people are gonna need a place of refuge, especially in our target location of little grime pockets at festivals of unknown significance to prey on the unsuspecting mind of the common people. Bliss. However, this tale is not without its great tragedies and misfortune... some silly tossers opted not to peg the massive ship sails to the murky welsh hills, and during what turned out to be a pretty chilly and intense blizzard the tent was lost, blown into a frozen, submerged slumber down by the stream to await out the frozen winter months. A devastating blow to momentum. The instafix we all cluck for was to be inevitably postponed by the firm hand of tribulation. But these trials are just a test, and we would resume the mission in whatever means possible. Nobody wants to be swinging around in the freezing cold. An old man was on stand by to drag the ton of metal and canvas out as soon as the snow has subsided and the heavy rain has ceased. There is always plenty to be getting on with, and through the damage of the tents relative destruction we were drawn to consider now a much more interesting evolution in Basstrologys construction. After all, the correct path is never straight and narrow, for otherwise how would one learn? The blank canvas was only ever to be expanded, and the mighty nature of the universe depicted that a simple marquee was never really going to harness the true magnitude of itself. Crush this puny temporary structure so that it may be re-born from the ashes of stupidity with scaffolding and resourcefulness as a stronger entity, forged from higher elements with evolved power!
Await merry old Sol, for His beaming smile always awaits beyond the horizons guidance. The future is ours to behold.
|Cole welcoming the morning sun|