Diads

New Video From Early Mourning

2011-05-16T15:50:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, we released a new video for the song Prologue. Fuck This Name off of Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name. Watch many times. Tell your friends and enemies. Purchase the album and be the envy of all who haven't. Be all you can be.

33 & 5

2011-04-04T15:58:00.000-07:00

Did you realize we have 33 songs and 5 videos? Did you know that you can listen to / watch them all? Well, you can. If you like any, please consider downloading. Our songs are available at iTunes (worldwide), Amazon MP3, eMusic and ReverbNation. Don't forget to watch our videos too! Among all the places they are avaliable, it is easiest to suggest going to our YouTube channel.

Print Your Own Diads Posters

2010-10-25T17:54:00.000-07:00

The title to this blog says it all. We have provided large jpegs of our album's commemorative posters. Go to the BRM Posters page and follow the instructions there. With the jpegs provided, virtually any size of poster you could want can be created.

And don't forget we have a mailing list. We plan to send one out every three months and we hope to make it a little more exclusive than updates anywhere else, and other special things.

Early Mourning CD's Are Here

2010-10-13T19:31:00.000-07:00

Have a moment?

After a longer than anticipated wait, we now have Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name CD's. You can buy the CD through ReverbNation if you just want the CD. The ones we got are in case you want to purchase a package at our store (diads.net/music.htm). We have 2 currently available, the Early Mourning Package and the Early Mourning + Make You Dirty packages. The sale for these is through PayPal, but you don't need to have an account with them.

Downloads are of course available. Places you can purchase the Diads music library are i-Tunes, eMusic, Amazon MP3 and ReverbNation.

If you would like to listen to our music over the internet, there are many options. We earn money from plays on some sites. It helps pay for doing the music. One of those places is Last.FM, another is ReverbNation. Please go there and give our songs a listen, then buy a package at our site.

Okay. Good talk.

Join Our Mailing List

2010-10-04T18:04:00.001-07:00

Hey. We are going to start a mailing list. Actually, have started but now we need you, the fans and listeners of Diads music to offer up your email address of choice and join. We plan to send one out every three months and hope you will enjoy keeping up to date with the happenings of Diads.

Also, take a look at our video for the song, Break: Him from our new album, Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name.

Early Mourning Day in America!

2010-08-31T01:00:00.000-07:00

The day is here, friends!

Today we are sending our album, Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name out into the world. This album has 19 songs that are whimsically guaranteed to rip the skin from your ear drums in some kind of majestic aural musical experience.

If you're planning on getting a physical copy of the soundtrack as well as the novel, we have bundle deals that will save you some money. At present we are having some issues with the manufactory making our CDs, so if you order the bundle deal, know that it will take some time to get it, though not much. If you do get the bundle deal, the novel will come to you signed by Tim and with a free bookmark, while supplies last. Of course.
Here is a helpful widget in which you can view our things:

Today is also the day you can get Tim Kress's novel Early Mourning, which our soundtrack is based on.

Please go here, and get yourself a copy. Or, click the cover, and it'll take you to the Early Mourning store.

If you're uncomfortable using Tim's personal store, the store he gets the most royalties from, you are welcome to get it on Amazon.com. But really, wouldn't you rather give Tim the money for the book than giving Amazon a big chunk of the change?

It's up to you, but either way, know that Tim loves you.

Also, you can get it for Amazon's Kindle, or the Kindle App for you smart phone. Check it out here.

Sometime in the near future Early Mourning will be available for the Sony eReader thing and also through Apple's iBookstore. Tim will let you know when that happens.

If you prefer to get the book from a physical store place, you'll have to wait, but it should be happening soon. Big(ish) news concerning that will be coming in the next week or so. Please check Tim's site at TimKressFiction.com regularly for updates on the book.

Today also marks the release of our new video for the song, Break: Him. Please enjoy.

Even if you can't afford the soundtrack or the book right now, or even simply don't want it, I ask you to please share a link to this blog, our stores, our sites, anything with your friends on whatever social site you're on. Tim's doing this book himself, as are we doing the soundtrack, and word of mouth is really the best way to get the word out there.

Thank you all for your support.

Diads

Are You Ready for #2?

2010-08-30T13:59:00.000-07:00

Well, tomorrow is the day. August 31st, the date we set at the beginning of the month as the release date is fast approaching. Soon, Early Mourning the novel by Tim Kress and Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the album by the same name by Diads, can be in your hands. Don't worry, the tingling is normal.

Almost everything has been going to plan. Due to processing issues with the supplier for the album, we won't have any physical copies ready for a little while. We're bummed about it, but what can you do? Exactly. In the meantime, we are focusing on what we can do. Keep in mind that you can still place orders and we will fill them as fast as we can.

Also out tomorrow is the video for our second single, Break: Him. We made it earlier this month and had a lot of fun doing it. We hope you enjoy it!

Stay posted - spread the word.

Early Mourning Novel And Soundtrack Release Date Announcement

2010-08-12T20:41:00.000-07:00

The date has been set for the release of Tim Kress' novel Early Mourning and the Diads soundtrack Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name. You will be able to purchase them August 31, 2010. Stay posted for more information.

diads.net
timkressfiction.com

Early Mourning: Book and Soundtrack Excerpt

2010-06-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

Submitted for your consideration is a (very) long excerpt from Tim Kress' novel, Early Mourning. At a certain point in the story, the protagonist reads a book written by a new friend. This is that book.

But first, a video for a song from the soundtrack to the novel, by us, Diads. This song goes with the chapter the excerpt comes from, and is called, The Weeping Song.

Early Mourning, and its soundtrack, Early Mourning, a soundtrack to the novel by the same name will be released on the same day, which happens to be the only—controllable—unknown thing about the project at this point.

Check back here for news on the soundtrack, and look to timkressfiction.com for news on the novel.

My Time In The Weeping Lands

by Dudo-uh Stoneking

Around the middle of the fourth century, C.E., the High Priest of all the Mayan people issued a proclamation stating that any commoners caught using magic would be sent to their underworld, Xibalba, via the most gruesome form of sacrifice. Generally this wasn't a problem, as the use of magicwas a closely guarded secret, but there was an entire secluded city of Mayan people who had not only figured it out for themselves, but become master suit-casters. Rather than wage war upon these fearsome magic users, the High Priest banished them to a group of islands off the coast, between the ancient cities of Lamanai and Min Li Punit (near modern-day Belize).

This group of rogue magic-users called themselves, Boox Chuwen, after a species of monkey they worshiped. Their legends stated that one of these monkeys came down from the clouds to give them the knowledge of the use of magic.

We know this much because our ancestor Udohiyu traded with them. It is my theory that it was from the Boox Chuwen that we first learned Ha Asegi Udelida, and not from a mysterious falcon-god.

The Boox Chuwen went to their island peacefully. It was then that they vanished from our ancestor's knowledge.

It is said that some seven hundred years before we came to the Gadah, a mysterious calamity occurred far to the south of our lands. According to Udohiyu legend, the glow of a massive conflagration, bright enough to turn the darkest part of night into a false day, could be seen in the distant south. This was followed by a shaking of the ground that lasted many hours, and a warm, salty gust of wind that blew from the same direction of the light.

In 1831, the Udohiyu escaped the persecution of our people by coming to Ha Echae Gadah. As my readers know, when we came to the Gadah, our ancestors found three mysterious portals leading to a dark and dangerous place we named the Weeping Lands. The Weepers who came through those portals were fierce and far more dangerous than the land they came from. The Udohiyu made it their first order of business to make a long war upon the Weepers in the Gadah. Only after suffering the loss of more than one hundred of their warriors, were the Udohiyu able to finally triumph over the Weepers. They sealed all three of the portals with a powerful suit, and maintain a guard on them to this day.

After much study, I put all of this evidence together, and in the spring of 1982, I published the essay, “Boox Chuwen, be they the Weepers?” in the University's scholarly periodical. As the title implies, I posited that the Weepers were none other than the fabled Boox Chuwen. I promptly became the laughingstock of the world of historical research and scholarship.

Shortly after, the ridicule in my department became so utterly unbearable that I was left with no choice but to end my tenure at the University. My research partner, Japhai Snakeroot, and I decided we would travel to the Weeping Lands, to find evidence that would prove my assertions.

The following is an account of my travels.

* * *

If my assertions about the nature of the Weeping Lands, and those that live there, were true, then the island the Boox Chuwen were exiled to would possibly contain another portal to the Weeping Lands. Since the sealed portals on the Gadah were off limits, Japhai Snakeroot and I would have to travel to the island the Boox Chuwen were originally banished to, and find out for ourselves.

Japhai Snakeroot and I spent the majority of our adult lives studying the Weepers and the Boox Chuwen legends, so much that we were more than a little lax in our study of Ha Asegi Udelida. This became a problem when we decided that we would need to disguise ourselves when we got to the Weeping Lands. The problem became further compounded by the fact that we weren't positive what we'd find when we got there. I decided to visit my little brother, Daniel Stoneking, who many have called the foremost Shaman of our time, to see if he could offer help with this conundrum.

Though the manufacture of magically embedded artifacts was, and is, a crime punishable by banishment, Daniel sold us each a boar's-tooth amulet, hung on a necklace. There was a tiny hole drilled through the tip of the tooth, and when we blew through it, all but our shadows became invisible. Invisible to everyone, and everything, but, as Daniel explained, since the boar's teeth came from the same beast, we would be able to see each other.

Just thinking about the intricacy of the suit Daniel used to create those amulets makes me so proud of my brother that I come close to becoming, if you'll excuse the pun, a weeper.

Daniel wanted to come with us, begged me in fact, but I wouldn't allow it. I couldn't be responsible for his well-being and do my research at the same time.

From the Gadah, Japhai and I traveled to America. Between America and our destination, we had many little adventures that don't bare repeating here. Suffice it to say that after two months spent in a Mexican jail we finally made it to Belize City. There we hired a guide and boat to take us to the archipelago that held the unnamed island the Boox Chuwen were exiled to, though we weren't precisely sure which island was the one we were looking for.

When our guide and the crew of the dilapidated fishing-boat refused to come too close to an island in the westernmost edge of the archipelago, we guessed it was the home of the Boox Chuwen. They were afraid of that island because local legend held it to be the most haunted place in the Caribbean. They insisted vile demons called the island home, man-shaped monsters that were rumored to venture out to the surrounding islands, and even the mainland, to steal away their children, and and the occasional lone adult.

We assured the crew that we could make it back to the mainland by some other means, and they reluctantly loaned us a small inflatable dinghy. Japhai and I loaded our supplies upon the boat, and were on our way.

In the distant past, the island had been an active volcano. As such, it was fertile with flora the likes of which I had never witnessed before. Prominent among said plant-life were flowers the size, and shape, of my forearm and hand. They were a violent fuchsia color at the tips of the petals, merging into a reverberant blue nearer the center of the flower. The fragrance of the petals was almost physically intoxicating. My interest in flowers has never gone further than the appreciation of their beauty, but Japhai's father was an amateur botanist, and had passed his fascination of all things in the kingdom Plantae to his son.

Japhai told me, “These flowers are unlike anything I've ever seen. If I were a betting man, I'd wager that they're of alien origin.” He then went on to explain that the complete lack of nectary, stigma, ovary, or any visible sign of a terrestrial flower's reproductive system backed his theory up. He then lifted one of the giant petals, and saw that the underside contained a multitude of spores, something he said only fungi, mosses and ferns use to propagate. He said, “It makes absolutely no sense that a flowering plant would have spores.”

The strange flower seemed to confirm that we were on the right island.

Beside that flower, the rest of the flora was beautiful, but Japhai assured me it all had Earthly origins.

As our study of the alien flower took entirely way too much time, we found we were rapidly losing daylight. We decided to set up our base-camp, and call it a night.

The next morning, we began our assent to the middle of the island, high above sea level. There were no paths through the dense underbrush of the island-wide jungle, so we were forced to make our own, which greatly slowed our progress. By midday, we encountered little of note, other than the nearly hummingbird-sized mosquitoes that seemed too timid to do much more than send the occasional raiding party our way. But as the grade of the hill we were climbing increased, we began to notice deep crevasses that zigzagged in a most treacherous way. They were evidence that a great catastrophe befell this island sometime in the far-flung past.

Shortly after discovering these fissures, we came upon the solitary corpse of a recently dead Weeper. His supine, broken posture suggested that a fall from a great distance had been his undoing. He was naked, except for a blindfold of coarse material that had been sewn to his skin in broad, sloppy stitches. Japhai and I agreed that this appeared to be the result of some archaic punishment.

After I recovered from the shock of the sight of this horror, Japhai suggested we use the talisman my brother made for us. I was in agreement.

The remainder of our assent was without incident. I expected the portal to be at in the middle of the mountain's summit, but I was wrong. Indeed, there was not much of a summit, as such. The top of the mountain was a plateau roughly one hundred square-meters in size. It seemed to be almost perfectly level, something that nature does not normally do.

Invisible, we went to the center of the plateau, but found nothing. Then we walked the perimeter and shortly heard the gibberish of a stream. Our water supplies were running low, so we went back down the slope to replenish them. The stream was situated a few hundred meters from the top of the mountain, on the opposite side from which we made our assent. Its source was underground. It bubbled up from between two, or three, large boulders, and wound its way down the mountain in a circuitous route.

We sat at the edge of the stream to eat a meal. Halfway through the meal, Japhai stood suddenly, and cried out, “Oh my, look at that!” He was pointing along the path of the stream. I stood, and looked where he was pointing, but couldn't make out what he was on about. He picked up his pack, and went down the mountain. I followed.

I do not know how the schism in the aether that sheared off the top of the volcano moved down the mountain, and became as small as it was. I can only hypothesize that in the millennium that has nearly passed since the mysterious events that caused the schism took place, the island has shifted on its tectonic plate. My only other guess is that the Boox Chuwen, or Weepers, somehow moved the portal at some point during those years.

We found the portal another thirty meters down the mountain. The stream fed directly into the portal, and something about the nature of the portal caused a fog or steam to lift, to partially obscure it. The portal itself was about six meters in height, and two meters wide. The edges of it were ragged, like the rough, jagged appearance of hastily torn fabric. There were thin filaments of the converging realities hanging from the edges of the portal, lazily dancing in the calm breeze that traveled up the mountain off the Caribbean Sea and through the very portal itself.

Before entering the portal, Japhai Snakeroot implored me to take part in a short ritual. The point of the ritual was to give obeisance to a certain sky-god that held a special place in Japhai's heart. I gratefully obliged, as a powerful fear had sneaked up on me the moment I saw the portal.

Now, just the appearance of the Weeper on the mountain can be said to have proved my theory, but I wanted definitive, verifiable evidence that I could flaunt in the faces of my detractors. Also, in spite of my fear, I was powerfully curious. And, as ever, Japhai's fearlessness gave me strength.

The moment we passed through the portal, our breathing became labored, as if we were standing on the top of a high mountain. It wasn't unbearable, but it was definitely unpleasant. That unpleasantness was but a small taste of things to come.

The world we found ourselves on was approximately one-third the size of Earth's moon. I could see the curvature of it from wherever I stood, which was jarring to the senses. The atmosphere was thick with a heavy fog-like substance, which later became unexplainable, as the only source of water we ever saw in the Weeping Lands (as I was now sure this place was) was the stream that came through the portal. The Weepers had dug a deep trench that carried those waters to some large cone-shaped geographical feature we could only just see in the distance. Where the fog parted, the sky could be viewed; it was a deep crimson. At night, what few stars we could see through the fog were faint, the constellations unrecognizable. Along the deep trench, the uniformly hardscrabble landscape yielded purple grass with a single trapezoidal shoot, various specimens of the spored flower we'd found on the island, and shrubby bushes burdened with fist-sized, purple fruit covered in two-inch, multi-barbed thorns. The landscape became totally barren no more than two meters from either side of the trench. The earth was the color of ash and soot. There were mountain-high dunes everywhere one looked, but they must have been ancient, as there was little wind to speak of. Japhai theorized that when the Boox Chuwen caused their land to be transported here, a catastrophic, planet-wide change was visited upon the Weeping Lands.

The trench served us dual purposes: it would lead us to what passed for civilization in the Weeping Lands, and it would provide us with an infallible escape route.

We set out along the trench. The walk was mostly monotonous and uneventful. We saw nothing that we hadn't seen in the first ten minutes of arriving here, until we'd been walking for more than two hours. By this time, the dim light was gone from the sky, leading us to believe the planet had turned its back on its star. A lot of the fog lifted, too. It was because of these happenings that we were able to see, floating on thermals, very high in the sky, colossal birds. I call them birds for lack of a better term, but they were without definable wings, tails, or even heads. They were the diamond shape of the simplest kind of kite. Without anything to compare their size to, it was hard to judge just how large they were, but I would hazard a guess that they were larger than any passenger jet Earth has yet built.

After we'd studied them for a time, I noticed something. “Japhai,” I said, “I can see the stars through them.”

“Nonsense,” he said. He stopped walking and gazed up at one that was describing ponderous, wide circles directly over the spot we stood. “By all the gods' hairy palms, you are right.”

“Let's be grateful they don't see us,” I said, as we resumed walking. “I don't feel much like ending up inside one of those things.”

Shortly after this conversation, that large cone-shaped formation we saw when first coming to the Weeping Lands began to come into focus. It was clearly where the trench led. Again, the cryptic nature of the physics that came into play when the Boox Chuwen came to this world amazed me when Japhai pointed out the that it was the top of the island. I assumed that the Weepers used their arcane magics to move the portal or their mountain, but the true explanation is most likely lost to history.

The top of the volcano was perhaps four kilometers from the ground to the edge of the crater at its center. When we came to perhaps three kilometers from the base of the dead volcano top, a road veered away from the trench. We followed it. The gravel of the road crunched beneath our feet, and in the moonless night, I absently bent down to scoop up a handful of it. I promptly threw it back down, disgusted, when I noticed that I had a large handful of human teeth. The entire three meter wide road was made of a thick layer of them, many of which were the heartbreakingly tiny teeth of infants.

I freely admit that I then had to be calmed and reassured by my dear, loving Japhai. Had it not been for his infectious, resolute courage, I doubt I could have found it within myself to continue. That he reminded me of the naysayers at the University certainly didn't hurt either.

Eventually we came to the spot where mountain and road converged. There was a wide tunnel through the side of the mountain, lit by widely-spaced torches. The torches were burning a fat that smelled suspiciously like long-pork. The tunnel was empty, and we were invisible, so we didn't hesitate to enter. Some distance in, the tunnel floor began a steep incline, eventually becoming a stairway. The stone steps were deeply bowed from centuries of use. Farther still, it took several severe turns, suggesting that we were climbing the inside of the mountain.

This was confirmed when the tunnel ended, and we were afforded with a spectacular view. The volcano crater housed an ancient Mayan city of modest size. At the center was a steep, many stepped pyramid of Mayan design. Each of the four sides had a stairway leading to the rectangular building at its top. Even from the distance we saw it from, we could tell there was a key difference to the pyramid from its Earthly counterparts, but couldn't make out just what that was.

Surrounding the pyramid were many stone flat-roofed buildings of varying sizes.

All in all, the city looked clean and well organized, and when we took the winding stair down to the crater floor, we came to understand why, and how, that was. The Weepers maintained a small army of domestic slaves, which explained the fear our guide and the ship's crew had of the island. The slaves had their own separate colony at the edges of the city, in thatched huts. In the coming days that Japhai and I observed the Weepers, and their slaves, we saw that the slaves did everything; they ran the irrigation that kept the trees and plant-life original to the mountain alive; they kept the buildings in good repair; they raised the young Weepers; and they provided the Weepers with any pleasure they could dream up.

As a result of the horrendous treatment the slaves were subjected to, groups of Weepers went out on daily raiding parties in Belize and Mexico to replenish their slave stock.

When Japhai and I went to the pyramid, we found out what had seemed off about the place. Every square inch of the building that was not the central stairways was covered in severed human, and Weeper, heads. They were in varying states of putrefaction, many still had most of their skin, most their hair, but none had their eyeballs.

As we were making our study of that pyramid, the Weepers came out to play. I say play, because that is all Weepers seem to do. And over the course of the next several days, we saw more than we ever could have wanted to see of this play.

The male Weepers are so similar in appearance as to be almost indistinguishable. They are well over six foot tall, gaunt, and hairless. Their faces bear only a slight resemblance to their Mayan ancestors; they look as if they've been stretched out, and flattened. They have high cheekbones, wide noses, and many have decorative scarification upon their cheeks, noses, and foreheads.

The female Weepers tower over their male counterparts. Where the men are all alike, the women enjoy a modicum of individuality. Generally, they have heavy, pendulous breasts, bloated stomachs, bulging muscles, and are so large they have trouble walking without help from the males. The women are covered in short, bristly black hair. Their teeth would be better described as tusks. Their fingers end in curved, razor-sharp talons.

I will not even dare to speculate on what moral, incestuous, or magical depravity led to this evolutionary separation from the rest of humanity, and between the sexes.

The Weepers' society follows the design of a beehive. The men outnumber the women by, more or less, sixty-to-one. The women are the queen-bees, the men the everything-else-bees. The women are also the priestesses, and there is one particularly large, vile specimen they revere as their High Priestess. Each woman has a hive of men that she lords over like a vile tyrant. The High Priestess, naturally, has the biggest hive.

The total Weeper population numbers around one hundred thousand.

The Weepers' national pastimes are a kind of brutal, semi-consensual rape, social and ritualistic cannibalism, and spontaneous murder—in that order. The gorgon women are constantly pregnant, else their population would be quickly decimated.

Through some form of their twisted magic, they snare the kites, which are their main source of sustenance. They also make a concoction from a melon-sized gland found in the base of what appeared to be the kite's brain, mixed with the spores of those odd indigenous flowers. They mash the spores into a pulp, mix in the secretions of the kite-gland, and let the mixture ferment for days. I had the distinct displeasure of happening upon a vat of the mixture when the fermentation was at its most volatile stage. It smelled exactly like that of a bloated, rotten corpse. The concoction is primarily used in the Weeper's nightly ceremonies. The observable physical effects of the brew were to make the epidermal layer of those who partook glow with an intensity that was hard to look directly at. They shined like stars. What the internal effects of the concoction were remains a mystery to me. Ever the adventurous sort, Japhai wished to experiment with the brew, but after much debate, I was able to beg him off the idea.

What communication the Weepers require happens mostly in their minds, offset by expressive grunts and vulgar sign language. On only one occasion, I dared to look into the mind of one of them, and it was like visiting a carnival fun house designed by a serial killer with absolutely no sense of humor and has overdosed on the most very potent psychotropic drugs.

The inhabitants of the Weeping Lands somehow manage to tango upon a tightrope loosely strung between chaos and order.

Japhai Snakeroot and I invisibly observed the Weeping Lands, the Weepers, and their slaves for close to three weeks. Out of necessity, we became thieves. We watched which of the roots, berries and vegetables the slaves ate, so we wouldn't inadvertently poison ourselves. Every morning we went outside of the city, through the tunnel, to refill our water supply. It was prudent that we did that, because as soon as the water reached the Weeper's city, it was polluted by things best left outside of our bodies. The climate of the Weeping Lands, though ever damp with fog, was pleasant enough for us to sleep under the stars.

On what was to be our last full night in the Weeping Lands, Japhai and I made the dangerous climb to the crater's high edge, so that we might allow ourselves a brief respite from the atrocities of the Weepers' city. We found a flat outcrop of rock big enough that we would not roll over and fall to our deaths while sleeping.

We lay upon our backs, gazing up at the impenetrable fog. Though I was weary from the ascent, I wasn't able to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I was revisited by memories of the horrors I'd been witness to. In particular, the nightly ceremony replayed in my mind, over and over. And though I saw the ceremony almost every night we were there, the first remained the most vivid.

Every night, like clockwork, the Weepers converged on the central pyramid. Looking eerily like a funeral procession, teams of eight men would bear their women upon elaborately decorated palanquins. I know not what the main structural make-up of the palanquins was, but they were embellished with bones and offal.

The palanquin of the High Priestess was the most striking of all, and required a team of twelve. At each of its four corners, a freshly dead corpse stood upright, lashed to poles. Flame red jewels the size of a child's fist were shoved into their eye sockets. For some unknown reason, each of the corpse's lower jaws had been torn from their heads, and spiked to their left hands with bone shards. The one time I dared to get close enough to scrutinize them, I saw that they also had delicately sophisticated, maze-like designs cut into every inch of their skin.

Once all of the Weepers were at the base of the pyramid, the High Priestess, still in her palanquin, was awkwardly carried up the steep stair to the rectangular building atop the pyramid. Once there, they set her palanquin on a raised stone dais, so that she could be clearly seen by all her acolytes at the base of the pyramid.

Then the ceremony began in earnest.

Five ragged slaves were brought out of the rectangular building, and made to kneel in front of the High Priestess. Each of the slaves wore the same dazed, calm look on their faces, as some suit was surely used to placate them. They looked as if they'd been lobotomized, and for all I know, that could well have been the case.

At once, the entire assemblage of Weepers began to sway slowly from side to side, and to telepathically chant. It was so loud that Japhai and I could not block it out. The chant wasn't one of language, but of carnal desire and depraved lunacy.

The High Priestess surveyed the group of slaves, finally stopping on a boy about twelve years old. She lazily pointed her taloned index finger at the slave's head. In a blur of motion, the boy shot up in the air, coming to a stop some three meters above the giantess's head. He jerked back and forth, looking for all the world like a puppet controlled by a violent child. The High Priestess made a few lazy movements with her fingers, and the slave-boy's limbs were torn from his body. It looked like what I imagine being drawn and quartered looked like, but much faster. Then came his head. All six parts of the now dead slave boy, head, arms, legs and torso, were still afloat in midair, rotating in irregular circles, splattering blood on the rest of the slaves. The boy's head came then to the High Priestess, coming to a stop half a meter from her own. She raised her hand up, index and little fingers out, and speared each of the slave-boy's eyes on her talons. She plucked them from his head, and popped them into her mouth. When she bit into the eyes with her blunt, tusk-like teeth, the eyeballs made an audible popping sound. Blood, mixed with the gelatinous vitreous humor spurted between her teeth, dribbled down her grizzled, dimpled chin.

The High Priestess's vanguard of male attendants came forward, and, using the same levitating suit, caused the other four slaves to fly high into the sky. When the slaves reached a height of about a kilometer above the top of the crowd of Weepers, the suit was released. Gravity brought them crashing into the crowd, which started a riot as the Weepers fought to get whatever piece of the slaves they could.

Though I've been explicit in my account of what I saw in the Weeping Lands, I will not recount the detail of the bloody orgy of rape and violence and cannibalism that followed. I will just say that it lasted well into the daylight of the next day.

Laying next to Japhai on the edge of that crater, I opened my eyes.

“I can't sleep,” I said.

“The first night again?” He almost always knew what I was thinking, not by the use of magic, but because we knew each other so well.

“Yes.”

Japhai sat up, wrapped his blanket tightly around his shoulders, and said, “I want to free those slaves.”

I turned my head, so I could look him in the eye. I knew the look he wore: unflappable resolution. I was in agreement with him, but, at the same time, I knew that if just the two of us went up against the Weepers, we'd be torn to shreds, perhaps in their next ceremony.

I told him these thoughts, then I said, “What if we went back to the Gadah first, to try to muster a force to come back here?”

“I'm not leaving here without those slaves.”

I sighed. There really was no arguing with him. And he was right. We could not leave those poor souls behind. I asked, “Do you have a plan?”

“Not much of one,” he said. “I think we go back down there tomorrow morning, and reveal ourselves to the slaves. As we give the rumor of us some time to spread, we work on breaking the seal on the door to the Gadah that's behind the slave settlement.” We'd found two of the three sealed portals, one inside the building atop the pyramid, the other in a small cave in the mountain, directly behind the slave settlement.

As plans go, it was certainly flawed. But to try to take the slaves all the way along the ditch back to their Earth was an impossibility. The Weepers would destroy all of us. With the cave portal, we could hope to get them out of the Weeping Lands in secrecy, as long as it was done in an orderly, quiet fashion. We discussed possible diversions, in the chance a Weeper caught on to our plans, but ultimately we decided to try for secrecy.

I lobbied that we break the seal first, before we revealed ourselves to the slaves, but Japhai pointed out that that could alert the Weepers before we got even one slave safely to the Gadah.

We stayed up for three more hours that night, beating all the details of the plan to death, damming as many of the viewable tributaries of chance that we could.

Then, as if by magic, the fog parted more than it had ever done the entire time we'd been there, and we were gifted with a sight of such beauty neither of us spoke for nearly an hour. At the same moment, a telepathic cry of collective fear reached us from the distant Weeper city. I looked down, and saw the Weepers leaving the ceremony in haste, scurrying to their homes.

Directly above us, a planet filled all of the heavens. It was gigantic. Streaked with varying shades of brown, orange and red, it looked vaguely familiar. After an hour of silent study, our orbit came into sight of the massive red eye of a swirling storm cloud.

“We're on a moon of Jupiter,” I said.

The marvelous beauty, combined with the fear the Weepers felt by the sight of it, gave us hope. We saw it as a good omen.

Reluctantly, we had to work a suit so that we could get some sleep.

The next morning, we found the slaves to be broken, but not without hope. They accepted our presence almost in stride, as if they'd been expecting saviors to show up any day. The rumor of us spread through the slaves with an efficiency, and speed, that outpaced our hopes, and the plan. They were ready to go before we could break open the seal.

By midday, Japhai was so anxious that he convinced me to go with him into the dwellings of the Weepers. He wanted to search for a relic, filled with powerful Weeper magic, that we could use to break open the seal. It was a plan of desperation, but one that was viable, too. The slaves told us that the Weepers made talismans of all sorts, but the most powerful of them were their weapons. The slaves said occasionally brief, brutal wars would break out among the various hives, usually started by the women to gain more men for their respective hives.

For the last time, Japhai and I blew through our boar's-tooth amulets, becoming invisible.

The first house we went into was the one closest to the slave settlement. Like the rest, it was rectangular, and had a flat roof. There were few windows, and only one door. We expected the inhabitants to be sleeping. We were wrong.

The house consisted of a single, open room with a low ceiling. Most of the dirt floor was taken up by relaxing Weepers. The woman of this particular hive was in the far corner of the room, still sitting upon her palanquin. Her lower face and neck were covered with congealed blood, her tusks likewise stained. She was smiling, a fearsome sight indeed. Her mirth was directed at a show some of her men were putting on for her. They had formed a circle around a young Weeper boy, and were taking turns committing unspeakable sexual acts on him. The young boy was clearly in agony.

The moment Japhai understood the nature of what we saw, he grabbed my upper arm. Without words, he let me know that he meant to rescue the boy. I tried to tell him not to, but before I could, he was already in motion.

Japhai ran to the center of the circle, and wrestled the boy from the grips of half a dozen Weepers. The confusion that followed worked to our advantage. We were able to get the boy outside of the house, and halfway to the slave settlement, before the Weepers reacted. All but their woman came out of the house, and ran after us. I'm sure they couldn't see us, but the boy was still in plain sight. At the same time they were coming after us, the Weepers evidently put out a silent call to all the others in the town, because when I looked back, I saw them pouring out of all of the houses.

Still running, Japhai pushed the half-conscious, bleeding boy at me. He said, “You take him. Try to get him, and as many of the slaves as you can, out of here.”

I said, “What about you?!”

“I'm going to create a diversion.”

“But we still can't break the seal, how am I supposed to get through it.”

The Weepers were getting closer to us. Japhai said, “You'll have to try to get them to the portal we came through. Go!”

But the boy put his sweaty hand on my forehead, and, using the same form of communication Japhai had only moments before, let me know that he could break open the seal. I told Japhai this, but he was still set on creating a diversion.

Again, he yelled, “Go, damn you!” He shoved me in the direction of the settlement, and with tears blurring my vision, I took the boy in that direction.

When I got to the edge of the settlement, I couldn't help but to turn around to see if Japhai was alright. At first, he was able to confuse the Weepers, to make them stop their pursuit of the boy. He had a long, bone-handled hunting knife, handed down from his mother, and he was stabbing the Weepers. But too soon they overwhelmed him, and though they couldn't see him, they pinned him down. I witnessed them rip the boar's-tooth amulet from his neck, making him visible. Then I saw a Weeper sit on Japhai's chest. The Weeper put his face to Japhai's, and, with his teeth, he pulled a large chunk of Japhai's cheek off. I had to turn then, I couldn't bare the sight of my greatest friend being torn apart by these monsters, but neither could I go to his aide.

But my curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to look, one more time. I saw one of the other Weepers put on Japhai's amulet, which was as good as me not even wearing mine, since if one could see me, he could relay that information to the rest using the instantaneous method of thought they used to communicate.

Instead of the group of Weepers coming after me, like I thought they would, they stopped and looked at me. I didn't like their silent scrutiny, so I took off in the direction of the cave with the sealed portal, half carrying, half dragging the wounded Weeper boy.

The slaves had queued up at the cave's mouth. I jumped to the head of the line, and risked yet another glance behind me. It was then that I understood the reason the group of malicious Weepers had stopped before entering the slave settlement.

Above the slaves' thatched huts, there stood a thick column of, what I can only describe as, black flames. At first, the flames came at us slowly, but with every passing second, they picked up pace, and fury. Wherever they touched the ramshackle slave abodes, an explosion, much too large for the size of the huts, rocked the very earth. The debris from the explosions came crashing to our feet, which finally spurred me to action.

I took the Weeper boy into the shallow cave, to the sealed portal. The portal looked like a vertical pool of mercury. Every time the Weeper's black fire caused an explosion, a violent shock-wave ran through the surface of portal.

I implored the Weeper boy to break the seal. I didn't think he understood me, because he merely stood in front of it, his blood, and shit, stained legs barely holding him up. But then he put his hands, wrist deep, into the liquid surface of the portal, causing much more violent ripples than even the explosions. He clamped shut his eyes, and pushed. The muscles on his narrow back bulged with the effort. I was just beginning to doubt his assertion that he could break open the seal, when suddenly his arms plunged into the fluid portal all the way to his elbows. It happened just in time.

I looked towards the mouth of the cave, and saw that the towering inferno of pitch-flames had gained so much velocity that, in the short time it took the boy to open the portal, it was now almost upon us. It had consumed all but a handful of slaves; those who managed to escape the hunger of that fire were running towards me. I tore the boar's-tooth amulet from my neck, pulled the Weeper boy out of the way, and ushered the slaves through the portal. When they were through, I grabbed the boy by the wrist, and pulled him through to the Gadah with me.

The four Udohiyu guards on duty that day were very confused when, first a small group of refugee slaves, followed by the young Weeper and me, burst through the normally inactive portal. It was lucky for us all that one of the guards was a distant cousin of mine, or the guards may have went ahead with the protocol regarding interlopers, which was an order to kill on sight.

I begged them to replace the seal on the door, lest the all-consuming Weeper-fire come through. It took all four of them to work the suit, but they did it. Then two of them took all that had recently come through the door to the nearest constabulary.

After a lengthy process of explanation, the slaves were given a choice to either be returned to their home, or stay in the Gadah. Many of them stayed. Those who wished to go home had their memories of the Gadah, and their time in the Weeping Lands, gently removed.

Firm words were aimed at me, for going to the Weeping Lands. But as there is no law strictly prohibiting travel to the Weeping Lands, the firm words were my only punishment. I was also asked not to return to the Weeping Lands, a request I readily agreed to.

It took much convincing, and begging, to keep the boy Weeper alive. It was my dear Japhai Snakeroot's dying wish to save this boy, and I was firm in my resolve to honor that wish. After much debate, the Council of tribal Elders made me responsible for him. I have spent the years since working to help that boy become a man, to help him adjust to our society. With love, and untold patience, he has become totally unlike his people.

My argument with the fellows at the University was patched up in an afternoon of testimony from myself, and the former slaves that chose to stay in the Gadah. One of the former slaves, a gentlemen from Belize, recited a legend among his people that corroborated my theories. Adding the fact that I entered the Weeping Lands from the island near Belize, and came through one of the sealed portals in Ha Echae Gadah was enough to receive a formal apology from my esteemed colleagues that included an invitation to resume my tenure at the University.

The Weeper boy, like the rest of his former people, was without a name. After he learned language, he took the first name Japhai, in honor of Japhai Snakeroot. For his last name, he chose, for reasons known only to him, Fingers.

The Wurly Burly Boy Has A Boring Day

2010-02-16T20:01:00.000-08:00

Tim Kress, half of this glorious band Diads has gone and written a book for kids, and the kid in all of us. The Book is called The Wurly Burly Boy Has A Boring Day. In addition to writing and illustrating the book, Tim, with the help of his family, has made a video in which you can see and hear the entire book for free.

Please take a moment of your time to look at this video, and if you like it, go to the website Tim has created for all things fiction TimKressFiction where you can get updates about when the book will be available for sale.

Over The Airwaves

2010-01-19T12:21:00.000-08:00

Our song 'Make You Dirty' from the album Make You Dirty was played on 09.16.09 on KDVS in Davis, CA. Request us! You can also look here to see if we are on a station near you... but since many stations stream on the net... you can technically still request and listen, right?

Graham

Grave Concerns Review

2009-04-20T20:59:00.000-07:00

Go to the Grave Concerns E-zine to read a review of Make You Dirty.

Graham

Blogs and things

2009-04-02T16:27:00.000-07:00

Hi. It's me, Graham. It's nice to see you here.

Diads is doing well. Tim and I are busy on our various projects and along with that are working on the next release - Diads 2.0. It will be special and that is all I will say at this point. I don't know how else to put it at this minute. Go to Diads.net to check out all the latest in Diads news. Like where you can request Diads music or read a review, that kind of stuff.

I have a 'Graham' blog now, ElectricFeast.blogspot.com. No posts yet... But I got it set up and ready to go if you want to look at it... Then again, by the time you (the reader) read this, I may have one up. I will talk about the various projects I have going on, topics that interest me and more. Oh, and chest hair and crazy cool medallions. Can't forget that.

If you're interested in random words I write that are within a 140 character limit, check me out at twitter. It's the new popular thing everybody is doing. You should too because everybodies doing it. Or you can just check my updates- which doesn't require having a log in. twitter.com/grahamalot

Tim has one too. twitter.com/tim_kress

Graham

Vote Diads on The SoupyGato Podcast

2009-03-30T21:51:00.000-07:00

Vote for Diads on The SoupyGato Show. Request any song or just Diads on their monthly Request Show. Click the link, click vote, post your info and then click the link in the confirmation email. Takes less than a minute. SoupyGatoPodcastAlley. Also, if you would like to visit their site: soupygato.com.

Graham

Diads Multimedia Links

2009-02-23T15:55:00.000-08:00

Check out the updated Multimedia page at BlueRyckenMusics. There you can link to sites to listen & request Diads music and hear what others have to say.

Graham

New Vid: Reflections of Rejections

2008-10-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already heard, our new video for 'Reflections of Rejections' from Make You Dirty is available for your viewing. That along with other Diads videos can be found @ BlueRyckenMusics.net, the BlueRyckenMusicsYouTubeChannel and other various outlets where Diads exists.

Graham

Razor Blade Dance Floor #67 Podcast

2008-09-16T14:34:00.000-07:00

Hear the song 'Make You Dirty' on Razor Blade Dance Floor #67 hosted by Chrome Skin Jesus.

Graham

New Vid: Make You Dirty

2008-07-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, I spent some hours making a new video for the title track from our album, Make You Dirty. Look at it.
Other than that, Graham and I are laying low, creating music for the future. You'll hear it someday, I'm sure.

TIm

Hello web people.

2008-06-23T15:33:00.000-07:00

We're now on PandoraRadio.com. If you've not ever heard of Pandora, you should check it out. Go there and create a Diads Radio channel, and you'll be happy for the rest of the day, seriously.

TIm

Official Diads Biography

2008-05-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

Our good friend just finished the Official Diads Biography. Like, totally check it out:

On Diads.
(Official Biography_ By J. Thomas Omeara)

    The exact details of the meeting of Graham Sedam and Tim Kress are so obscured in rhetoric as to be impossible to reconcile what is truth, and what's fiction. One thing that can be known for sure is that they met in the middle of what's become known as the Late-To-Early-Mid-Dark-Ages (the 1990's), in a garage in Middle America. At that first meeting, defying all odds, they didn't play a single Nirvana song. In fact, they didn't play any music at all. When asked about that day, Tim remembers a guy there that spoke Spanish only, even though he was of Belgian decent. Graham remembers all the blood.

    They formed a band with a few other misinformed disaffected angst ridden youths. Mostly they played Metallica songs. Remember the chocolate orange juice, the Beastie Billies? Hiding under the train table? They don't either.

    Fast forward a decade- a time spent away from each other, for the most part. A time spent making babies(Tim), music, arts, and going to school for one of them (Graham, now living 374 miles away, in a different Middle American town).
Here you'll find Tim in a band that was going nowhere fast, and Graham working on his solo project, Mess of it ALL. Inspired by shifty drum machines, over-priced synthesizers, distortion, boredom, and high-speed Internet, they decided to form a band, Diads. Tim would supply most of the beats, sequencing, guitars, basses, and other things. Graham would supply his highly superior skills as an engineer, and his haunting, strangely vulnerable vocals. Over the next year, they wrote and recorded a starkly cinematic electronic album, entitled, Make You Dirty.

Graham's favorite color is dead. He is jealous of his solitude.

Tim likes to hate the technology that makes it possible to do everything he does. His favorite thing is brown.

"Yes, it is I. I will make you dirty."- Make You Dirty

Your eMusic Shopping Spree

2008-05-19T14:45:00.000-07:00

You can buy our album Make You Dirty at eMusic now ...and don't forget to tell a friend!

Graham

What is Diads?

2008-05-06T10:28:00.000-07:00

If you do a search or a 'google' as the kids call it, you can find quite an array of acronyms, chemical / biological and musical references etc. My favorites however are the links to Diads...the Band.

As far as my musical workings concerning Diads-
Lately, I've been writing lyrics for songs that will be on the 2nd release. Tim has created quite a bit of music since the release of Make You Dirty -June '07. And being I write the bulk of the lyrics, I have some songs to write.

However, there's never an ending or really a beginning. It's all one continuous flow of inspirado; take some here give some there. First, you need to find how to embolden the inspirado - tap in. Life is an idea, it is inspirado. Second, time the inspirado to strike at its peak maturing. Let life reflect the inspirado. Third, manifest the inspirado in creation. Before you know it all three steps will be flourishing simultaneously.

Graham

iLike Diads

2008-04-22T18:49:00.000-07:00

Click on the iLike button and go to our page there. Take advantage of the many ways you can experience Diads.

Graham

Goodbye Soundclick, Hello Downloads

2008-04-18T19:11:00.000-07:00

We no longer have a profile at soundclick.com. If this was a way you connected with Diads, we apologize for the change and encourage you to visit us at the other sites Diads is a part of or has a profile on. Make You Dirty is available for downloads at i-Tunes and AmazonMP3. Soon on eMusic.

Graham

When we start making videos

2008-02-24T20:02:00.001-08:00

So, yeah. We've started making videos. As the previous statement- and the video- suggests, this is our first one. Peep it out:

A blog for the centuries

2008-01-16T13:47:00.000-08:00

Once again I sit here with many subjects I could talk about, many things in which to say. Tangents I could begin and then end with a fitting closing sentence and whatnot. Perhaps that is for another day. Another day you wonder? As you sit reading what is my 2nd official Diads blog.

Lately I have been working on music for Mess of it ALL's 2nd release. I'm happy with the progress albeit a generally slow one. I also bought an electric guitar the day after Christmas last year. My first one, well overdue. I have an acoustic and I have played bass for 14 years, so it's not a stretch. Just never had one.

I also have credits on the BRM Collaborative Effort, Gentlemen of a Certain Age. This will be available soon to the public, January 18th to be exact. Six songs will be debuted on the GoaCA page with more coming at a pace in the future. Go to BlueRyckenMusics.Net to find out more.

Have no fear, I assure you Diads is still in motion only in a slower gear. Both Tim and I have been putting efforts towards other projects that you will soon hear. When will the next Diads album come out? Well, I say haven't you heard the one we just came out with?

Buy 'Make You Dirty'. Stimulate our economy and lead us out of this potential recession. Don't do it for yourself. Do it for your country......and Diads.

Graham

Man, it's been a while. Good thing nobody reads this.

2007-11-06T18:23:00.000-08:00

For reals.
The reason we've not posted here lately is that there's not much news.
To be honest.
Our record has been out for a while, and sales are less than good.
But you can help us out with that.
Buy our cd. Please.

If you really must know what's going on, then I suppose I'll tell you.
We're busy on our follow up album to the "hit" Make You Dirty.
We are in the early stages.
We are also trying to get our label going. You can find it at BlueRyckenMusics.net

Our site is moving to here.

And if you wish to contact us, do so at diads.music@gmail.com

Just trying to stream-line the operation.

Also, the new studio room/control center at BlueRyckenStudioSouth is a nice shade of hot ass pink.
Seriously.

Goodbye for now, and remember that I'll love you until the end of everything.

Tim

Attention! Quad City Party Robots!

2007-07-07T20:50:00.000-07:00

Our record is available for purchase at the Moline Co-op Records, and the Davenport one too.
Also at Joel Pennington's Guitar Shop on 23rd ave. Or Avenue of the Cities if you prefer.
You can also get it at Iconoclast Records in downtown East Moline. That's a good place to get it from; support local business peoples and local musicians, it's good for the economy.
Do your part to thwart evil doers.

Also, we have our very first review in the Quad City View. We're on page six.

Another thing is that if you like to get your music through the vast fiber optic networks we call the interwebs, you can download the album right from our music page.

Tim

On the hardness.

2007-06-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

I got some of the actual cds in the mail Wednesday, and the feeling of pride I felt was absolutely sinful. Holding the actual physical result of something that I had a large part in creating made me feel like I could single handedly take over a small country, maybe Sweden or Lithuania.

This album took about a year and a half of many intense starts and stops, because of the nature of our band. Graham lives in Minnesota and I live in Illinois, so we'd work hard then not hard. Actually, I'd say that best describes our band: hard then not hard.

You should really look into Nikola Tesla's life.

He Doesn't Know.

2007-06-07T15:35:00.000-07:00

So, this is my first official diads blog.  I'm sitting here, chatting with Tim
on-line, thinking of what to write...

We'll have an album soon as I'm sure you've heard.  It's called
Make You Dirty.  Right now it is in the manufacturing process.
Rest assured, Tim and I are steadily at work doing all the behind
the scenes work that allows you to have Diads in your life.
We wouldn't deprive you of that.  In fact I will be meeting with one
of the Matt's tonight to discuss and execute business and finance.

On the creative side of things: I am beginning work on my second
Mess of it ALL album and the second Diads album.
I haven't begun any tracking or putting parts together etc, just sifting
through ideas and writing lyrics.
Doing some ground work, if that makes sense to you.

Graham

Welcome to the official Diads website.

2007-05-26T17:23:00.000-07:00

Diads.net
The site is currently under construction, and we're working on all the stuff that goes into bringing this album together. Our debut album, "Make You Dirty" will be released on 06.19.07. Also on that day the site will officially go live, which means it'll have mp3 samples of all the songs from the album, plus some bonus tracks. More news soon, but until then:

A short history_ Graham and I met in the fall of '94, getting together to play in a band called "MindShaft"- really a pretty crappy band to tell the truth. We went our own ways musically for about 10 years. Graham moved to Minneapolis in the fall of '98, with Matt VanOpdorp- who was in "MindShaft"- and they started the band Five Dollar Fatso. Eventually he got tired of the whole band thing and decided to go to school for recording engineering, and do his own thing, "Mess of it ALL."

Meanwhile, I started a super awesome family. In '03, I co-founded the band "The Kindly Ones," with some good friends. We had a good run of it, but family obligations, and other things led me to quit the band. Right around the same time, Graham and I started messing around with writing computer based music. Sample based. Lot's of drum machines. Actually, when we first started writing music, we wanted it to be completely digital. That shit went right out the door when one of the songs needed a guitar in it. You can't tell the songs what to do, they tell you what to do.

So, about a year and some change later, we have a rad album for people to buy, and make us super rich.
Also, Graham is a big fan of bunny rabbits, and I absolutely love NASCAR, and the written lie.

Tim.

very well then

2007-05-25T20:29:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we'll not talk about music on this blog. I think we're going to use it just to talk about other things. Whatever we want really, and it doesn't even matter, because nobody's going to read it anyhow....

Stuff like this: Someday, I want to punch a bird. Straight men should never have a hicky on the back of their necks. It's just not right.

That's all.

Oh, and someday Graham may write a blog entry...

Tim_Diads

A Little Sticky Quicky.

2007-05-24T16:25:00.000-07:00

Well, we have an official release date for the album. It's 06.19.07. On that day our website will officially go live; with mp3 samples of all the album songs, and some full length bonus interweb only type songs.

Cheers,
Tim_Diads

Love and Sprockets.

2007-05-23T18:49:00.000-07:00

Ahh. A bands very first real blog. We've posted some blogs on our myspace page (myspace.com/diads) before, but this is like big-boy blogging at its finest.

Our first album comes out soon, and I'm tired from all the work that goes into getting an album ready for all you people to buy it. All the writing and recording that went into it was fun, but all this art and website shit is tiring. I'm doing all the art for the cd packaging, and Graham- the other half of Diads- is doing all the website stuff. Check it out, it's in its beginning stages, but it's cool: diads.net.

And if you're into checking out some stuff, go listen to Graham's solo project Mess of it ALL. Then you should buy his record. It's the good stuff.
Remember, don't let your meat loaf.

Love,
Tim_Diads