In the beginning God created himself. God listened to everything he had created, and it was very good.
And there was evening but no pure fucking morning...
For the age when God gave rock'n'roll to everyone has become a cliché-ridden myth, and we were not given another choice: For what we're getting hold of, is comedia.
Once in our lifetime we all feel an urgent need to rock. To satisfy this greed ...we exploited all available resources.
Now fuck all your protest: Rock is dead! What survived, were only poor imitated shades of God -
Deus ex Vagina is one of them.
Deus ex Vagina is a poisoned cocktail made of hoaxed rock'n'roll-rebellion, testosterone overdosed glamour, and a touch of miniskirt wearing Death. A host for all posers who had to leave the hall at Manowar. A romping place for conformist individuals who want to be corpsepainted porn-stars. They're the composers of a giant requiem in popular culture. They are the band who rock the funeral of rock'n'roll (which died an unknown date that no one noticed blinded by the simulacrums of his disciples praising themselves as the new saviors). They're slaves to their own syncretism while preaching Immaculate Conception.