sufi
lala
We've done it - this was on bbc news
history is cyclical
history is cyclical
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Summer of Illegal Raves Expected
- Thread starter sufi
- Start date
Pandiculate
Well-known member
it's quite interesting looking at the instagram pages of the people organising them, so much positivity, it makes a nice change from the coronavirus anxiety that drips off everything else
makes me miss being young and invincible
makes me miss being young and invincible
i was gonna post something earlier about the ones in MCR over the weekend... today was the day i decided to cancel thoughts like this!
this line in particular is like they have been reading dissensus
“You know the summer of 89? I think this is a new revolution on the scale of that … All the clubs are shut, everyone is at home, people have been cooped up at home for three months. As soon as they catch wind of anything, on Snapchat, Instagram stories or whatever, they’re like, ‘Where’s that? WhatsApp me the pin’.”
I'm also amused by the name of the chief executive of the Night Time Industries Association
this line in particular is like they have been reading dissensus
“You know the summer of 89? I think this is a new revolution on the scale of that … All the clubs are shut, everyone is at home, people have been cooped up at home for three months. As soon as they catch wind of anything, on Snapchat, Instagram stories or whatever, they’re like, ‘Where’s that? WhatsApp me the pin’.”
I'm also amused by the name of the chief executive of the Night Time Industries Association
'kin 'ell, dint know about this one:
In Leeds, a section of the M1 was closed on Saturday night after West Yorkshire police shut down an illegal rave held in an underpass at junction 45. Up to 600 people were dispersed, with some fleeing via the motorway slipway, police said.
In Leeds, a section of the M1 was closed on Saturday night after West Yorkshire police shut down an illegal rave held in an underpass at junction 45. Up to 600 people were dispersed, with some fleeing via the motorway slipway, police said.
sufi missed off the ess cos he was so excited
shiels
_
I'm not saying I predicted all of this and the global protests in my seminal post The Dancing Plague but what I am saying is I definitely predicted all of this this and the global protests in my seminal post The Dancing Plague.
john eden
male pale and stale
fixed it with my fancypants mod powers innit
book notification just arrived in my inbox, for 'Rave' by Rainald Goetz. Its on fitzcaralldo , who got the booker recently.
Lead blurb:
‘Goetz’s writing is a kind of dancing. Each sentence, fragment, captures the essence of what it’s like to live inside the spaces of techno music. Thoughts come and go, and return louder, later in the text, with an urgent rhythm that makes the cumulative case for the transformative power of the dance floor. This is writing of and from the body, hot, sweaty, dazed, decadent, and ultimately life-affirming.’
— Julia Bell, author of The Dark Light
Lead blurb:
‘Goetz’s writing is a kind of dancing. Each sentence, fragment, captures the essence of what it’s like to live inside the spaces of techno music. Thoughts come and go, and return louder, later in the text, with an urgent rhythm that makes the cumulative case for the transformative power of the dance floor. This is writing of and from the body, hot, sweaty, dazed, decadent, and ultimately life-affirming.’
— Julia Bell, author of The Dark Light
‘Meet girls. Take drugs. Listen to music.’ In Rave, cult German novelist Rainald Goetz takes a headlong dive into nineties techno culture. From the cathartic release on the dance floor to the intense conversations in corners of nightclubs and the after-parties in the light of dawn, this exhilarating, fragmentary novel captures the feeling of debauchery from within. Dazzling and intimate, Rave is an unapologetic embrace of nightlife from an author unafraid to lose himself in the subject of his work.
preview extract is a bit wishy washy dammit. a bit too affected poetry. few clangers - 'Dope music now' sheesh.
I
COLLAPSE
‘The collapse begins.’
... and came up to me in slow motion. I looked, longed,
walked, and thought.
I had a feeling of lightness.
Maybe I could make a decision.
‘The driver’s licence is gone now, now I’ll write the book fast.’
Wirr: there I was standing in the middle of the music.
– Thrust.
Right away Laarman had secured the film rights for the Schütte saga for some fantastical sum. The money was gone, the accounts closed, the cards cancelled.
I saw him, how he stood there with a young woman behind the pillar, and suddenly he looked to me like a giant. He talked with her, talked past her: really they were talking over one another. Everything friendly, warm, roused.
My face was soaking wet already too.
We went to the other room in the back.
SWEET CONFUSION
You’ve got to imagine so-and-so as a happy person.
Who was that again?
We looked around and laughed. Dope music now.
‘Hey! Look!’
I had the sixteenth notes popping superlight in my fingertips, arms thrown out wide. Them too, teeny tiny glittering forward, up, down, cool.
The glistening jewellery shimmered silver.
Schütte to Wirr: ‘Where?’
When a person said the toilets, they didn’t necessarily mean somewhere else. The searcher was calm, even when speaking, interpreter in the wordlessness of faces or gazes. The searcher is there, searching for signs.
Who’s taking what?
Who’s still got some?
Who can still make something happen?
Who’s there?
It was the time of the linden blossoms.
Then Mark heard someone close by say the words: ‘The state prosecutor is now investigating on suspicion of breach of confidentiality.’
And right away I thought: ‘Fantastic.’
And I had Albert’s truth-testaments, his drawings, I mean, which were a visible manifestation, from oblique angles, of the collision of temporal planes.
Pausing and pounding.
Then I saw how she –
And turned –
And new glances all round. I laughed, because –
I don’t exactly know –
And turned. ‘What’s up.’
Ah, right, sure. Cool.
OK.
Behind, above, around: enormous now, the supremacies of sound had risen up, giant machines, bigger than a person, that shot thunder through to his insides. He looked up, nodded, and felt like an idea borne of the boom-boom-boom of the beat. And the immense boom-boom said: one one one –
and one and one and –
one one one –
and –
cool cool cool cool cool...
He saw Hardy and Leksie, faces and eyes, hurtled, scrambled, shoved, shaken in the midst of the rhythm. Saw broken and blessed, trusting and tender, myriad signs, quick, terse, plain, each blotted out by the next in waves of sympathy. He looked and danced and saw beauty.
From the margins came legs and light, feet, flashes, paces and bass, surfaces and murmurs, equivalencies and functions of a higher mathematics.
He himself was the music.
(...)
I
COLLAPSE
‘The collapse begins.’
... and came up to me in slow motion. I looked, longed,
walked, and thought.
I had a feeling of lightness.
Maybe I could make a decision.
‘The driver’s licence is gone now, now I’ll write the book fast.’
Wirr: there I was standing in the middle of the music.
– Thrust.
Right away Laarman had secured the film rights for the Schütte saga for some fantastical sum. The money was gone, the accounts closed, the cards cancelled.
I saw him, how he stood there with a young woman behind the pillar, and suddenly he looked to me like a giant. He talked with her, talked past her: really they were talking over one another. Everything friendly, warm, roused.
My face was soaking wet already too.
We went to the other room in the back.
SWEET CONFUSION
You’ve got to imagine so-and-so as a happy person.
Who was that again?
We looked around and laughed. Dope music now.
‘Hey! Look!’
I had the sixteenth notes popping superlight in my fingertips, arms thrown out wide. Them too, teeny tiny glittering forward, up, down, cool.
The glistening jewellery shimmered silver.
Schütte to Wirr: ‘Where?’
When a person said the toilets, they didn’t necessarily mean somewhere else. The searcher was calm, even when speaking, interpreter in the wordlessness of faces or gazes. The searcher is there, searching for signs.
Who’s taking what?
Who’s still got some?
Who can still make something happen?
Who’s there?
It was the time of the linden blossoms.
Then Mark heard someone close by say the words: ‘The state prosecutor is now investigating on suspicion of breach of confidentiality.’
And right away I thought: ‘Fantastic.’
And I had Albert’s truth-testaments, his drawings, I mean, which were a visible manifestation, from oblique angles, of the collision of temporal planes.
Pausing and pounding.
Then I saw how she –
And turned –
And new glances all round. I laughed, because –
I don’t exactly know –
And turned. ‘What’s up.’
Ah, right, sure. Cool.
OK.
Behind, above, around: enormous now, the supremacies of sound had risen up, giant machines, bigger than a person, that shot thunder through to his insides. He looked up, nodded, and felt like an idea borne of the boom-boom-boom of the beat. And the immense boom-boom said: one one one –
and one and one and –
one one one –
and –
cool cool cool cool cool...
He saw Hardy and Leksie, faces and eyes, hurtled, scrambled, shoved, shaken in the midst of the rhythm. Saw broken and blessed, trusting and tender, myriad signs, quick, terse, plain, each blotted out by the next in waves of sympathy. He looked and danced and saw beauty.
From the margins came legs and light, feet, flashes, paces and bass, surfaces and murmurs, equivalencies and functions of a higher mathematics.
He himself was the music.
(...)
"Rainald Goetz, born in 1954 in Munich, studied History and Medicine in Munich and obtained a doctoral degree in both subjects. He briefly worked as a doctor, but quit this profession for the sake of literature in his early thirties. His first novel, Insane, was published in 1983. In 1998, Goetz wrote the internet diary ‘Rubbish for Everyone’, probably the first literary blog in Germany, with entries on the world of media and consumerism. It was published in book form in 1999 and together with Rave, Jeff Koons, Celebration and Deconspiration belongs to This Morning, his great history of the present. Goetz has been awarded numerous prizes, most notably the Georg Büchner Prize in 2015. He lives in Berlin."
yes but whats his dissensus username?
yes but whats his dissensus username?