HORSE the band

"The gratest unsuccessful band ever"

-Guie Rossini, from his landmark Youtube comment
referencing a HORSE the band performance
at the "With Full Force" metal festival,
somewhere in Germany, in 2010


The gratest unsuccessful band ever.

Living at the top.

It's lonely up here.

Always expecting someone to "climb that mountain" and "Throw it in".

To join you. To usurp you. But no. . .

We have no peers.

We are lonely.

We participated in KONY 2012, and a Color Run.
We felt lonely.

We did a Reddit AMA.
We still felt lonely.

We watched every TED talk ever. We joined Tinder.

We still felt, deep down, a fear of an overwhelming and instinctual confirmation of the reality of our intellectual isolation.

However, this time, instead of turning to the time-tested remedies for this sort of silly feeling (namely: women of the highest order, bridge burning, Niacin, China, animals, big numbers). . .

. . .we started a fully decentralized, open-source community and, aside from following the harm principle, instituted a fully anarchic society on a remote, previously uninhabited island (featured on BoingBoing and by invite only on We installed fiberoptic Internet and created a wiki. We had high hopes as this was the first time such a thing had been done since the existence of the Internet and Computers (aka the first time humans have been capable of doing anything / have ever had ideas). We video taped every interaction and discarded the idea of intellectual property, spending our days rating the most trivial and commonplace activities of others, throwing privacy out the window in the name of progress and utopia, and uploading everything to the big data on THE SERVER. We ate ghee from cows who roamed freely on land that had not been fracked, cows who exclusively ate quickly-growing grasses. We neglected to take Niacin. Everything was absolutely perfect and Bitcoin ended all of society's woes. Having invested in both gold and Bitcoin we were very rich, however, we had nothing to spend our money on except self-help central-metaphor business organizational books from the Mainland. One night out of sheer boredom, we initiated a massive Bitcoin transaction to purchase every physical and digital copy of every central metaphor business/self help book that had ever been written, with the intent to create a fecal ziggurat out of the books and our own waste (since we had no sewers) in the center of our island and ignite it after having a weeklong party in which any member could join a special "coterie" and MOD THE SHIT out of anything: we called it The Fecal Ziggurat: pure anarchy and humanity! That transaction may or may not have done harm to a transgender-aligned-however-not-actually-transgender member of our society who had invested heavily in "wearable technology" as well as "health apps". As the technological industry fell apart on the Mainland due to the lack of any guiding business principles and career development based on sports metaphor, the member of society fell into destitution and began to sell their body to children. Their rating settled on an exact 2.5 out of 5 stars, and no one was sure whether or not to transact with them. It was unclear whether the harm principle was being violated, or the violated were being harmed? We hadn't actually thought about that . . . huh. Anyway, the entire community began watching the video feed of this individual and forgot to rate other transactions. Our whole rating system fell to shit, as we realized an Account Manager from had moved in and had rigged the system in exchange for counterfeit Bitcoin credits. An angry Bitcoin miner, who had spent his entire physical life setting up powerful supercomputers to mine Bitcoins but had not found any, killed the Account Manager from and although according to the harm principle it should not have, his rating mysteriously spiked. It didn't feel right. We had lost our belief in the silver bullet to cure society's failings through the Internet by abstracting and depersonalizing human interactions, making ideas worthless, and ignoring a human being's need for privacy out of wrongly applying our own personality traits to every single human being on the planet! as well as decentralized open source anarchy founded on a paleolithic diet allowed only by great advances in technology. We tried to go into THE SOURCE CODE, which was open and we thought SOMEONE would have fixed by then, but realized only 2 of us knew what it said or actually did. We got into a fight over how to edit the source code in the comments of the revision history - a real FLAMEWAR that made it onto the front page of (which was so cool), it was unclear if the harm principle was really being violated as one of the dudes was a pretty big doucher, and eventually both of ours "DEVS" lost interest and started to masturbate in their units instead of looking at the SOURCE CODE. Everyone knew what had happened but the actual act was occurring in a corner where the camera could not capture the "deed" IYKWIM, LOL, thus there was no proof. Things crumbled quickly after that. Eventually our beautiful, first-ever group of "people who had the Internet" needed a scapegoat for not being able to "make everything in the world perfect according to one person's point of view of how things should be". Our ratings went down quickly and before long we had been ostracized from our own society, not even able to buy a can of sardines as disgusted vendors saw our low rating on their Google Glasses just as we were trying to email them some Bitcoins. As Proudhonian Mutualists, collective action against us was called for. Gary Lachance was executed by a dispute resolution organization (or DRO, for short - not to be mistaken for the police) that mediates disputes / issues. We were banished from the island. We arrived on the Mainland, which was in FUCKING DISARRAY. The governments were trampling on people's rights and freedoms (LIKE ALWAYS LOL), we were mortified at the harms done to us driving on the roads, drinking the (fluoridated!) water, and seeing the children in schools. One Reddit AMA later, our Bitcoin account was hacked by some fucking dweeb from Romania, FUCK him, and all our money was gone. We decided to go back to the only thing that works in this life.

Burning bridges.
Women of the highest order.
Doing Activities.
Mocking the very people who help us survive.
Being in The Loft of a European Sprinter Van.
Big numbers.

We are going to play some shows. In Europe. And, more importantly, Russia.


Aug 02 Saarbrucken, Germany - Kleiner Club Garage
Aug 03 London, UK - The Borderline
Aug 04 Paris, France - Batofar
Aug 05 Stuttgart, Germany - Juha West
Aug 06 Munchen, Germany - Backstage
Aug 07 Wiesbaden, Germany - SCHLACHTHOF
Aug 08 Hamburg, Germany - Hafenklang
Aug 09 Ieper, Belgium - Ieperfest
Aug 10 Dusseldorf, Germany - Cube
Aug 11 Berlin, Germany - Magnet
Aug 12 Moscow, Russian Federation - Plan B
Aug 13 St. Petersburg, Russian Federation - Dusche