Originally written for emailing to the NoEnd list in 1996/1997.
Druids in LA
Subject: CALEB: Druids in LA
Sent: 07/22 5:07 AM
From: Caleb John Clark
To: NoEnd, noend@TAOS.COM
Back in the 1600’s wildly dressed Celtic Druids used to dance all night long, sweating around flickering fires and celebrating our connection to Earth, sex, seasons, and spirituality. Or at least that’s MY image of history, based loosely on one conversation at a Rave last night and a glance at a dictionary.
I went to check out a real LA Rave, and not much has changed since the Druid Raves. It was in Hollywood and put on by Family, one of the big established Rave promoters in LA. I went stone cold sober in every respect, and left with a only a vibrationally induced music high at 3am. It was hot in that sound stage, but the water was cold. If you closed your eyes you could fell your balance start to go and your brain shake, you’ve got to dance to keep from being knocked over. Or watch one of the seven huge screens pumping strange images at Morse code speed.
Hand’s wave, glowing tracing tubes,
cool water flashes to hot sweat,
and rains fine drops.
metal pierced lips roll by,
glitter as blush.
Kids now days!
They dress in bright colors, hug each other upon greeting, smoke dope, take ex, acid, shrooms, or Candy Hop (Ex and acid) together for fun. And then they have the guile to drink gallons’ of pure water and dance off all those chems while expelling great amounts of pent up aggression and angst harmlessly. They breath through menthol soaked surgical masks, or suck on baby pacifiers. They laugh a lot, they don’t fight, they don’t drink. As a promoter told me, “It’s hard to have an bad attitude with a pacifier in your mouth.”
A large poster hand out was on our car when we left. It was for a Hippie 2000 Rave and I’m thinking of framing it. It said, “Once again Jungle Boogie would like to take you on an out of this world adventure where U can reunite with your friends for a 12 hour bionic dance festival of our music, our beliefs, and our desire for a better world.” It was covered with huge breasted young nymphs and phrases like, “Please bring lots of smiles, things to share and friends that care.”
To be sure this Rave was not an idealistic out of market anomaly. As Dire Straights put it, “Sex and Money are the major kicks” of Alien Fuel. So they must make money, or break even, as the promoter I talked to said about 1,500 people were at this one at $15 a head. And it’s a place for people to “explore sexuality”, or “hunt” as I heard it put. One freed of ego and self consciousness could randomly have sat down among the intertwined circles of people sitting outside. Once plopped under the radar sweeps of the scanning, standing, ever flowing walking crowd, you would have a good chance sharing subterranean emotions that are normally driven into the gutters of our city streets by the relentless traffic. You could also have gotten some action. Most likely this somewhat utopian view of Raves is shared by less then a majority to it’s fullest. People do come for the babes, the drugs, to be scene, to be heard, to be cool, to be drenched in the chemical sweat of the enlightened crowd that wares stickers saying “Special”.
We may be going to hell in a hand basket, but I don’t think they are. In fact I can’t wait for some of these kids to take over the helm of this silly little planet so the spiritually challenged can work off their hangovers watching documentaries.
Or was there just something in that pure water?
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