In the twilight of a time, there emerges a need for man to comprehend his own bitter fate. Finally resigned to the inevitable beyond, he searches the ages, desperate for stories of assurance, redemption and hope. Such tales fill page upon page with enough ink to flood a thousand valleys, and drown the tallest tree. But there is one tale that as yet been told… The story of… The Kwietosh. Desolate and baron, humanities at a crossroads. The people have retreated shuttering their once carefree lives. From unseen enemies which seem to plague not only the physical form, but the innermost thought!
Driven by panic, compelled by dread, the masses begin to devolve. Once dear neighbours turn wary foes. Brother against brother, sister against sister. But in the darkest hour. Whispers begin to tell of a creature emerging from the darkness a being without a name, faceless and obscure. Part presence, part idea they say,
as if the very force they describe has existed for eons a dormant seed awaiting nourishment… words of radical acts.
Now the fire is lit, smouldering in the belly of humanity. It cannot be extinguished, for the stories of The Kwietosh endure even as evidence of its presence and debated with the passing years.
Messages, Dictations, Warnings, Stories, such as These…
(Text Inspiration: DJ Shadow)