"I discovered that if you frighten girls well enough, if you really attack the g-spot of terror, they all sound alike anyway. What comes up is no longer black or white, young or old, tenor or bass, but a kind of universal noise, the rush and roar of horror, the diaphragm bursting in panic and sending a gush of primal existence hurtling up the throat, a boiling lava that melts the teeth and flares up into the air, a burning rain of bone and blood, a basic will to live transformed into a viscous spume that sprays its fear of death across the sky—for all fear reduces to fear of death, and all screams are the screams of the dying, and thus to delight in dismay, to revel in panic, to eroticize your nightmares and get off on your fears, amounts to an aural love of morbidity, an acoustic kiss of death, a necrophilia for the ears." - Supervert, Necrophilia Variations
