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Griet

My Electro Fantasy

by Mark Sinclair, images Reinhardt Helmut Schwarzer / 12.07.2011

There were 6 of us, on our way to the Empire of Arcadia, on a quest to meet the council. Chosen as it were, to be representatives of our tribe and attend this week’s gathering in the world of South African electro fuckouts. Our carriage carried the scribe (me), the gypsy from across the river and the shaman charged with taking care of the initiates. The carriage behind us carried the two initiates and the photographer charged with providing hard evidence of our attendance. Arcade Empire has taken the place of Dogbox, slightly further, a little less cozy, but bigger, louder and a lot more lights. In the end the positioning of these events is not as important as the people in attendance, and whether or not they dance their fucking faces off.

When we arrived Crossman and Phizicist were just starting up, furiously establishing the protocol for the night. It was their task to run through the minutes of the last meeting and introduce new themes into the crowd’s vocabulary, which would prepare us for what lay ahead. They kicked off hard with some Skrillex and just owned from there on out. Everyone had consumed their favorite sacrament, be it the blood, body, heart or soul. The initiates were taking part in the rights for the first time, and nervous smiles were creeping across their faces; nervous expectation, but expectations of what? They had no idea.

Mark Sinclair. Images by Reinhardt Helmut Schwarzer

Being a virgin to one of these gatherings is intimidating once you finally arrive. Since the whole week before friends have been intermittently whispering in your ear about how awesome it’s going to be, giving you a knowing look as they pull away. By the time you get there, little drops of spittle trickle down your lobes; your ears are wet with anticipation. You wonder if it will live up to your expectations, which by this stage are quite high. That’s about the time Double Adapter start up… And shit gets real. These are two men from our community who have recently returned from an epic journey. They came bearing gifts. Breaks which had bodies convulsing, pulses and drops and beats and bangs. They were letting us know what the future would hold, a look through spatial boundaries into places where time moved at a different rate and if you left too soon you’d arrive too late. Thank God that Crossman and Phizicist had prepared us; if we were catapulted directly into this audio visual electrogasm we would surely be dead. “Warning Double Adapter may cause seizures”.

Griet

Aliens, FUCKING ALIENS. I looked up from my feet, which had taken on the perspective of objects down the wrong end of binoculars, and there they were on stage getting ready to perform. Wearing Mexican wrestling masks to hide what I could only imagine were their twisted lizard faces. Creatures out of one of David Icke’s wet dreams, their set started up. Pelussje. Ominous sounds pulsated from the speakers; one of them gets up front, close to the crowd and pulls out a mind control device. A mind control device disguised as a guitar hero controller; he starts pushing buttons. The song builds and builds, I can feel my breathing rate increase with anticipation. I can feel the break coming, but as we approach it, as we get closer and closer, time seems to slow, like reaching out to touch something which is just out of your grasp, stretching yourself as far as possible. I imagine death comes on in much the same way; as you approach the limit of your life, time ascends exponentially to infinity. As close to infinity as we can subjectively experience, then again perhaps there’s still a part of me that’s waiting for that song to break. All I know for sure is that the rest of me, the vast majority of me, felt it break and oh how fucking glorious… If that’s what being dominated by reptilian humanoids feels like, count me in. I’ll take them to my leader, bend him over and even help them insert the probe.

Griet

Fuck e=mc2, Einstein’s greatest contribution to mankind was lasers. And at this gathering of the council I saw a laser show which was far more intense than any I have ever experienced. To watch the lasers was to be mesmerized, taken away and then thrown back into the party a few seconds later with the feeling that you’d been gone for hours. There was so much to comprehend, so much going on at once. No need for the blood or the body, by this stage I felt as though I was sucking on Christ’s pituitary gland. The dance floor was packed, packed tight. Dancing was not a motion of the individual, the crowd was a single entity. Shoulder to shoulder we moved as one giant organism. Jumping, bouncing off one another, rocking back and forth together, the soaking sweat hair of the person in front of you lashes your smiling face. I didn’t want any girls dancing close to me, in fact I’d make a point of moving away; because it was much more satisfying to be able to just give in and move along with the currents of the crowd, allowing yourself to be swept away without fear of breaking the face of some pretty young thing next to you.

And then amidst the fury of the evening; Haezer. Fucking Haezer. Not an alien, but definitely not human. The question is no longer “Who the fuck is Haezer?” The question now is, “What the fuck is Haezer?” It’s like a scary monster raped a nice sprite and 9 months later Haezer. There were bodies everywhere, each in their position. A maze of sweat soaked flesh. The council came to life and with Haezer as our unquestioned leader we lost it. Perhaps a subtle knife pierced the seams of reality and from some ethereal plane Haezer trickled in. I’m only putting all this down, because something needs to be said about it. But when you’re there the trick is to not think about anything. To just let go and allow every part of yourself to be flooded with the experience. Take a page out of Taoist teachings which says that if you fall into a river go with it, accommodate yourself to the water, don’t fight it. You will not win against that crowd. Writing about these gatherings of the council is only difficult in the repetitive nature of how awesome they are. Without a doubt one of the best parties I have ever attended. Oh, and there was a lunar eclipse.

Griet

Griet

Griet

Griet

Griet

Griet

*Images by Reinhardt Helmut Schwarzer

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