First Calvary Snake-Handling Baptist Church of Buckshot County, AZ
Well hallelujah and happy Resurrection Sunday, y’all.
Now I know what you’re thinkin’: “Pastor Earl Ray, shouldn’t you be out back countin’ them plastic eggs filled with questionable chocolate and preachin’ about the empty tomb?” And normally yes, I’d be elbow-deep in deviled eggs and blessin’ the ham with some righteous gravy.
But today, I decided to do somethin’ a little different. Somethin’ bold. Somethin’ the Lord definitely did not call me to do.
I listened to a record called SATANICA by a band called BEHEMOTH — which is either a Polish death metal group or a large, angry biblical cow, I ain’t quite sure yet.
So instead of reflectin’ quietly on the miracle of Easter, I got myself spiritually assaulted by blast beats and a man growlin’ like a demon who’s been chain-smokin’ brimstone since Tuesday. Glory be.
Let’s begin.
First track hits me like a demon with a shotgun: “Decade of Therion”? Son, I don’t know who this Therion fella is but it sounds like he’s been real angry for ten years and took it out on a drum kit. That drummer must’ve had twelve arms and a meth problem.
And them vocals? My first thought was, “Did someone leave the barbecue brisket in the smoker too long and it’s screamin’ to be saved?” No sir. Turns out it’s this feller named Nergal. Sounds like he gargled roofing nails and then read from the Book of Revelation backwards. I ain’t sayin’ he’s possessed, but he definitely ain’t tryin’ to get into Heaven through the front door.
Guitar tone on this thing? Imagine a chainsaw tryin’ to have a theological debate with a tractor. Blasphemy with every riff. I had to baptize my speakers in the kiddie pool out back.
Let’s talk lyrics. I had to Google some of these words, and let me tell ya — Latin is the language of the Devil and folks who go to Catholic school. Half the time it sounds like he’s tryin’ to summon Beelzebub just to borrow a cup of sugar.
Favorite track? That’d have to be “Chant for Eschaton 2000.” Not because I liked it — no sir. But because after listenin’ to it, I was convinced the world was endin’ in 2000. And I had to cancel my annual BBQ & Bible Trivia Cook-Off.
Now I will say this: musicianship’s tighter than my Aunt Patty’s Spanx at a Pentecostal potluck. These boys can play, even if they’re playin’ straight into the fiery pits of eternal damnation.
Final Thoughts (Post-Satanica Survival Edition):
Well. That was a journey straight through the Valley of the Shadow of Deafness.
I reckon if the Devil ever opened a nightclub, this album’d be playin’ in the bathroom stalls while demons argue over who left the goat unattended. My ears are buzzin’, my Bible’s tremblin’, and my dog won’t come near me now ‘cause I smell like sulfur and regret.
But you know what? I made it. I done faced down the Beast — not with a sword, but with an open mind, a cup of Sanka, and one hand hoverin’ over the holy water like it’s pepper spray.
So now, I’m gonna go hose down my stereo, rebuke my Wi-Fi connection, and re-baptize my crockpot. Then I’m gonna grab myself the last Cadbury egg, sit in the recliner, and watch The Ten Commandments with Charlton Heston like a good American.
Y’all take care now. And remember: Jesus died for your sins, but He didn’t die for your playlist. Stay saved, stay strong, and for the love of John 3:16, keep BEHEMOTH outta your grandma’s house.
Amen, and turn that mess down.
