The violence enacted by noise and industrial music has been, from their very inception, directed towards the body in one way or another. Shattering its insides, penetrating its skin, transgressing all of its boundaries, they are musics that draw the domination of nature to its harshest consequence — an organic pain inflicted in the key of progress. It is not, however, a sort of absolute pain (as romantic longing for nature), but one that concedes the complexity of the body-mind relationship when it states the obvious: some of us like this stuff. This kind of pleasurable harm presents a very modern revelation with which tradition prefers to be iron-fisted, in the sense that when taboos are broken there is often a disciplinary ritual process of social healing, of reintegration, but what happens when that ritual enacts even more violence upon the body it is attempting to restore? Such is…