Merzbow – Kibako Merzbow – Kibako

merzbowMy friend Darla’s mother was a professional dominatrix. She was one of the best and so she moved her dungeon to where there was the most money for hired bossiness: Washington D.C.

Our senators and congressmen have a surplus of power that a clandestine appointment with Mistress Olivia can equalize.

Only after they have a woman lock them in a closet, force them onto the floor to eat a can of Alpo or admonish them for soiling their diapers do they feel the harmony we all take for granted.

A couple hours being trapped in a suspended, adult-sized, Chinese handcuff, and you too would be ready to tackle our gun laws, our national deficit, and our health care system.

Mistress Olivia had a wild party for her high profile clients one weekend and the place was a mess afterward. She hired me, my sister and Darla to clean the dungeon and it’s adjoining playrooms. We were going to make (and split three ways) a thousand dollars to polish the leather goods, pull stray syringes out of floggers, sweep the fireplace, repair the St. Andrew’s Cross, and scrub the black-lit doctor’s office.

Darla and my sister called “not it” to the worst job: power washing a rubber room where the “babies” unshackled themselves from their oppressive adult sized pull-ups and defecated with abandon.

There was only one power washer and the place was in need of a thorough, concentrated cleaning. They had apparently done it on the floor, picked it up by the fistful and smeared their frustration right into the walls.

Darla’s excuse was that she had “done it enough” throughout her life and that she should never have to do it again.

My sister’s case was that she’d driven us to D.C. from Philadelphia in her car, paying for gas.

Rock solid arguments, as far as I was concerned.

I think they added the word “power” to “power wash” as a pep talk.

I put it off as long as I could. Finally, all our work was done. This last odious chore had to be done for me to get my 333 dollars.

How do you let people shit all over a room in your house and call yourself the dominant one?

I prepared by dressing in layers of Darla’s old clothes, wore a facemask and covered as much of my head with bandanas and protected my eyes with Olsen Twins sunglasses.

They strapped the power washer over my shoulder. “Don’t slack off. My mom’s not paying us till it’s done right!”

Once the heavy door shut behind me, there was no protecting myself from the fecal hellscape. Though, I tried to convince myself that if these government officials didn’t have a clean room to play with their shit then they would be doing their jobs even worse, that the country would be even MORE fucked up. Juliet Hope Wayne: America’s Bottom. You’re Welcome.

The power washer had a kickback to it (just to further underline who was not the boss here) and I struggled to keep it aimed at heavy trouble spots, watching as the force of water disintegrated what were probably the most intense moments of the party. The power washer screamed and whined, industrial churgy-churg echoes thrashed against the walls of the tiny refuge. My trapped breathing reverberated off the facemask. My spirit growled uncontrollably at every bad decision that led me to this fiscal station in life.

It was a sound and overall feeling that I’ve never experienced any other time, until earlier today when I laid on my bedroom floor and listened to the new Merzbow album, Kibako all the way through.

Merzbow - Kibako, reviewed by Juliet Hope Wayne on 2013-02-06T09:29:23+00:00 rating 1.0 out of 5



3 Responses about “Merzbow – Kibako”

  • Ralph says:

    Uh, WHAT?

    This is a great story and all but it does nothing to describe the Merzbow recording. You were probably waiting a long time to whip this story out, couldn’t find a use for it, and decided to waste it on something which pained up to listen to. I sort of get that, but noise is something you have to understand or at least listen to objectively in order to appreciate. You’re a great writer! But this review sucks. Sorry.

  • Brock says:

    This review was awesome. I don’t agree with the rating, personally, but I can see where you’re coming from. It’s not for everybody.

  • juliet says:

    I’m surprised that someone with such outside-the-box tastes in music has such square ideas about what a music review is.