The eerie landscape of Negative Pulse Logic does not mimic the tourist-centric visual we receive halfway across the globe of New Zealand. But anyone wise enough to the world understands the seedy, shady, and substantial market of the underbelly that permeates any port-of-call. It’s that anti-matter that infects Negative Pulse Logic, a cassette as aptly titled as any that I’ve come across. For every positive affiliation we can attach to any noun, there exists its opposite as well. For the beauty I find in pictures of a island nation I have yet to visit (keep a stool warm for me, I’m coming sometime), I understand the political, social, and economic machinations behind the scenes that keep its austere appearance in tact while also causing suffering and distress to people, places, and things. The same is true no matter where you may reside, in every stratosphere, within the complicated. Omit has done no such thing, despite their name. Despite being the negative (im)pulse that logically arrives at the precise equation to create an illusion of beauty, its very mechanical nature is itself beautiful. It’s why wise guys and tyrants revel in evildoing, because it has its own poetic construction. While it is an ugly, sinister plot to those of us with eyes wide open, there are those that appreciate evil for its warts. This isn’t to paint Negative Pulse Logic as the process of evil being wrought, rather to say that in exposing the greasy, oily cogs of life as usual, there is something worth exploring behind those scenes. Omit doesn’t dare dig into the depth of pure evil; it’s not a worthy trip. But this toe-dip into the ugliness of the mundane is truly beautiful.