very now and then, during my ventures through purgatory to amuse myself with someone else’s guilt, I find a penitent trying to drag a juggernaut. It is an ungrateful task. The guy soaks in sweat the Black Sabbath T-shirt, but no matter how hard he tries, he won’t be able to move a heavy load not even a tiny millimeter. A courier I hired (without contest) warns me that this one represents the Doom Metal: slow, melancholy, desperate. A sadness that is only smaller than the karma resignation that myself reserved for him. Very instructive, no doubt. After all, I swore that this business had its name because of the "dooooom, doooom" of guitars. Dying and learning.