A study in corrupted memory. Each piece drags something rotten into the light — the idols that failed us, the myths we built around them, and the sickness that seeps through it all. Pure Evil isn’t about villains. It’s about the noise around them — the panic, the parody, the way we keep mistaking attention for absolution. These aren’t tributes. They’re autopsies of a culture that can’t stop touching the wound.