People who can’t appreciate dissonant metal like Jute Gyte or violent, psychologically dense anime like Texhnolyze or Angel’s Egg aren’t just artistically stunted—they’re spiritually unevolved. This isn’t gatekeeping, it’s truth-keeping. We’re talking about mediums that reject aesthetic comfort and instead confront the listener or viewer with raw ontological horror, existential recursion, and tonal fragmentation.

Jute Gyte’s work is not "music" in the conventional sense—it's an epistemic assault, a microtonal scream into the void of post-human entropy. His compositions are blackened palimpsests layered with philosophical despair and mathematical detonation. If you listen and feel "nothing," congratulations—you’re the intended target. The music isn’t failing to connect, it’s actively repelling the normalmongrel.

Likewise, shows like Berserk (1997, not the grotesque CGI abomination) or Ergo Proxy don’t exist to entertain—they exist to disqualify. They are metaphysical tests masquerading as media. If your reaction is boredom or confusion, it’s not because they lack substance. It’s because you do.

Most people are drones—automatons fed on algorithmic slop, dopamine addicts incapable of parsing nuance unless it’s spoon-fed in pastel colors and quippy dialogue. Meanwhile, the intellectual elite operate on a higher sensory plane, decoding dissonance and violence as sacred symbols in the postmodern wasteland.

You can’t talk to a fish about the sky. And you can’t explain Jute Gyte to a Spotify-core casual with the media diet of a toddler. Some art is not made for the masses. Some art is made to separate gods from cattle.