Violence is real and natural. Multidimensional, it exists in every form of life. Its visceral, it shears through the thickest ice, survives the coldest vice and won't shatter when thrown from incredible hieghts.

Violence is quick and unjust.
It swiftly infects the blood then slowly turns a useful mind to rust, takes away all that someone is and replaces it with formaldehyde and sawdust, it wants to watch as the body succumbs to deaths lust.

Violence is hard and true.
It's an event, a car crash that forced a woman out of the windshield like a 12 gauge slug pumped straight into the heart of a child who's witnessed skin hanging from the hole his mother just went through.

Violence is in the air like a pathogen, infecting us with an experience that executes our innocence, genocide, created from hate by that precious few.
In one dimension or another, it's the backbone of every great nation and of all life, it's nothing new.