Hellbent

Helium (Cargo)
by Chris Best

Dig, if you will, the picture. You’re at a party at a friend’s house. At around 3 am, the festivities have died down and only a few hangers-on still linger – tired, drunk, and unwilling to leave. The conversation that was bearable when you were plain tipsy has worn off with the alcohol and now you have to deal with conversations consisting of “yeah man,” “really?,” “that sucks,” and “no fucking way.” The empty beer bottles outnumber the guests 20-1, the lights are low, you stumble through the kitchen to look for just ONE clean glass to drink water out of and have to listen to the rantings of overeducated, unemployed art hacks trying to get laid by deconstructing some boring fuckin’ indie film. As you light up another smoke and let the the chemicals ease you into a heavy, lethargic depression, you hear NIN very faintly in the background and realize just how much it fuckin’ annoys you. This is the sound of Hellbent.