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Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Midnight

When I was a kid, my Mom turned me onto Dean R. Koontz.  The first one I read was Darkfall, a page-turner about a cop trying to protect some kids from little voodoo demons.  I couldn't put it down.  It was one big gulp of a book and I read it in a single day.

I don't remember the order, but I soon read a whole list of his books:  Night Chills, Lightning, Phantoms, Midnight.  They were all page-turners and I loved them, particularly Lightning and Midnight.

But then I started reading some bad ones.  I didn't like The Bad PlaceMr. Murder wasn't very good either.  There were a few others just as dreadful and I stopped reading them.

But today, I was listening to the audiobook version on my way home from work and came across this passage:
That pounding, frenetic, unmelodic heavy-metal rock was a collection of monotonous chords and even more monotonous atonal riffs, so soul-less and mind-numbing that it might have been the music produced by a civilization of intelligent machines long after man had passed from the face of the earth.
Ah, Dean, Phil Anselmo has something to say about that:

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