(Amei Ozaki painting via 50Watts)

(Unedited copy from an article in the Gazzette, 9^th of XXXXXX, 20XX)

No one has been able to explain the events at the Cube Club on the First of XXXXXX of 20XX, between 3am – when the security guards shut the doors and told the crowd queuing outside to leave – and 9am – when the cleaners arrived for their shift to find a large pool of blood overflowing from under the locked doors. The coroner at St. Mary’s Hospital has yet to release his report, and the police are still examining the CCTV footage. According to our sources, at least 40 identification documents (id and credit cards) have been found amongst the carnage. In most cases, it has been impossible to physically identify the victims, given the state of their remains.

We have interviewed some people who left the club before 3am. Their memories are a bit blurred, which isn’t surprising, given the decadent reputation of the Cube. This is an excerpt from an interview with one of them, aged 21:

“I was so annoyed I had to go home early that night. I guess I was lucky after all. Anyway, I was taking it easy, just a few drinks and a dance. Not that I ever do anything else, mind. But the DJ was on fire. It was this new guy, a replacement for DJ Marco, this awesome guy who rocks the best Summer Parties in Ibiza. Anyway, we were really disappointed when we found out that Marco had lost his flight and Dean [the owner of Cube Club] had got this other guy instead. We were going to go home when he started playing all the hits, so we decided to stay for a bit. It was music that we had never heard, really powerful and cold like some space ship headed to conquer distant galaxies, in a sexy totalitarian way. I had one of the best dances of the year, it was better than being on drugs! Not that I ever take drugs, will you publish that?

So, I went to the DJ booth to give the new guy the thumbs up. He looked well weird, really pale guy with small cold eyes, shaved head. He was wearing a really lame leather trenchcoat. I said thanks man, tried to do a high five but he totally blanked me, smirked between his black lips, I saw the tips of his teeth, spiky, he may have said something, but I only heard a hiss. Nothing nice, anyway. Cheer up goth, whatever! He really creeped me out. We went home really soon after that”

Blizzardo – Cheer

The Passenger – In Flight Acid

{In his short story ‘The Gernsback Continuum’, William Gibson describes the semiotic ghosts of an imagined future populating the alternative now – in his case, the slipstream architecture of 1930s pulp futurism as depicted in Hugo Gernsback’s publications. In the two tunes above, The Passenger and Blizzardo convey snapshots from the Armando/Original UK Cyborg druid raver continuum, an assembly line at the heart of a factory which is a cathedral which is a gauntlet which isn’t a gauntlet, its metal collar priests/workers strike with relics/tools powered by an endorphin releasing generator. And thus we are assembled, and slide dancing towards a day of automated joy.}

Epilogue -
This post is tagged with acid halloween