Cult

Transplanted from a small island known for a monarchy that have long since outlived their usefulness, and a populace who continue to enjoy rather bland cuisine, Cult now lives in the American Heartland. Surrounded by cornfields, and often pondering upon what lurks menacingly within. He spends most of his time informing puzzled locals that in all probability the almighty isn't communicating with them via the toaster or an intriguing shaped pattern in the cracked sidewalk, as he goes about fulfilling the day to day demands of a huge fizzy drinks conglomerate. In his down time Cult enjoys spending time with those who strangely continue to tolerate his presence, and scribbling incomprehensible nonsence on all manner of intriguing subjects including (but in no way limited to) extreme audio and a litany of genre films, and cult cinema that your parents likely warned you about.