Cerealized

$20.00

Type: Archival Photo Print*
Size: 12 inches by 12 inches (30.48cm x 30.48cm)
Material: E-Surface

With the intergalactic ban on music that seeped its way across airwaves on July 6th, 5000 (0000 AM), so too went the art of talk radio. Now, you might be asking yourself, dear Audionaut, with so much at stake and the tastiest of beats no longer available, should talk radio be given an ounce of respect? For, without beats, what was radio? Well, without passing judgment to the opposite side of the dial, there was little to be excited about. Weather reports, traffic updates, forced banter among silly morning "zoo crews." It was a silent mess of dead air and even more lifeless entertainers. So, too, did it perish (with some applauding the death) while others rose in the ashes of the old guard. Radio was a central place of worship, but the hymns were random. What if we could control radio and tailor it to specific listeners? Born from the black hole left by Lord Prosect were the Auscults, a race of content-obsessed creatures ready to jam anything into the ears of those who had even the faintest of interest. From famous intergalactic court battles to unsolved mysteries to the latest dishes on Murmple VII, if there was a topic, the Auscults would cover it. In their infinite wisdom, they recognized the power of music and how a theme song or bed could make or break their "intermissions." The most popular of these broadcasts was Cerealized, an intermission dedicated to sugary breakfast foods: ranking them, eating them, yelling epithets at them, smelling them. So popular was the series that breakfast behemoth conglomerate Fhilo Oil and Waste Management had to increase production of their Rainbow Whorls to not one, not two, but fourteen new production stations scattered across twelve different solar systems. But, dear Audionauts, the key to Cerealized was not just the high-calorie count and massive carbohydrate overload, but the even tastier beats that accompanied each episode. Clever were the Auscults to hide music within their intermissions, defining the intergalactic ban. Culled from various artists, including Med Evil, Electric Shadow Puppets, and Ghenga Akkahana, the album delivered fresh bowls of music with a massive splash. While it became somewhat of a collector's item, highlighting the obsessive nature of the intermissions, it was sadly lost to Lord Prosect and his minions until the Intergalactic Beets Project ordered a crate of Rainbow Whorls, only to discover a single copy within. We present this album to you now with the intent to enjoy every last morsel while it lasts!

*All prints are made to order and shipped directly to you! This is not a real vinyl album.

Type: Archival Photo Print*
Size: 12 inches by 12 inches (30.48cm x 30.48cm)
Material: E-Surface

With the intergalactic ban on music that seeped its way across airwaves on July 6th, 5000 (0000 AM), so too went the art of talk radio. Now, you might be asking yourself, dear Audionaut, with so much at stake and the tastiest of beats no longer available, should talk radio be given an ounce of respect? For, without beats, what was radio? Well, without passing judgment to the opposite side of the dial, there was little to be excited about. Weather reports, traffic updates, forced banter among silly morning "zoo crews." It was a silent mess of dead air and even more lifeless entertainers. So, too, did it perish (with some applauding the death) while others rose in the ashes of the old guard. Radio was a central place of worship, but the hymns were random. What if we could control radio and tailor it to specific listeners? Born from the black hole left by Lord Prosect were the Auscults, a race of content-obsessed creatures ready to jam anything into the ears of those who had even the faintest of interest. From famous intergalactic court battles to unsolved mysteries to the latest dishes on Murmple VII, if there was a topic, the Auscults would cover it. In their infinite wisdom, they recognized the power of music and how a theme song or bed could make or break their "intermissions." The most popular of these broadcasts was Cerealized, an intermission dedicated to sugary breakfast foods: ranking them, eating them, yelling epithets at them, smelling them. So popular was the series that breakfast behemoth conglomerate Fhilo Oil and Waste Management had to increase production of their Rainbow Whorls to not one, not two, but fourteen new production stations scattered across twelve different solar systems. But, dear Audionauts, the key to Cerealized was not just the high-calorie count and massive carbohydrate overload, but the even tastier beats that accompanied each episode. Clever were the Auscults to hide music within their intermissions, defining the intergalactic ban. Culled from various artists, including Med Evil, Electric Shadow Puppets, and Ghenga Akkahana, the album delivered fresh bowls of music with a massive splash. While it became somewhat of a collector's item, highlighting the obsessive nature of the intermissions, it was sadly lost to Lord Prosect and his minions until the Intergalactic Beets Project ordered a crate of Rainbow Whorls, only to discover a single copy within. We present this album to you now with the intent to enjoy every last morsel while it lasts!

*All prints are made to order and shipped directly to you! This is not a real vinyl album.