jar raze knowing the thunder was working up to some sort of crescendo did nothing to dull the impact of one meaty mallet striking the head of a kettledrum as deep and wide as the night wants to believe it can be. even after the last reverb tail has faded, i keep waiting for the next big bang to jar me from my waking sleep. silence can be just as loud as any soul-shaking sound that sits on either side of it. this fitful storm is living proof. 250402 what's it to you? who go blather from