Excerpts from Electric Degeneration, Degenerate Press' semi-weekly e-zine, free and ad-free. A full episode contains sections for music reviews, upcoming events, blasphemy, classifieds, and anything else we feel like saying. If you'd like to subscribe just contact us.
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12/30/1999
"This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the
end. But it
is, perhaps, the end of the beginning."
Winston Churchill, on the Battle of Egypt, Nov. 20, 1942
Despite the overwhelming hype, this kind of snuck up on me. It only
occurred to me late last night that this would be the last Electric
Degeneration of the century! For many of you this may be your last
ever as your windows-based machines spontaneously combust come
midnight Friday. For the few other Mac users out we'll be trying to
send the usual on Sunday, assuming we have power, phones and a
functioning ISP, with a full report from the weekend's festivities. Usually at
this time of year I've been spending weeks working on
invites for the annual New Year's Eve party, as well as assembling
the 12 hours of music, making calls, motivating slackers, etc. etc.
etc. In all that preparatory activity I usually assembled some kind
of look back and party hype to motivate folks to come to our annual
bash.
But a year ago Thursday the Degenerate Press vehicle, the first new
car we ever owned, committed ritual suicide in a restaurant parking
lot, tearing it's guts (the transmission) out and never moving again,
except on the back of the wrecker. The next day we threw the last
party ever at the Littleton Art Community and Party Emporium after a
decade of decadance, before turning the place over to new management
(who didn't take too kindly to our degenerate ways.)
So frankly this year doesn't feel nearly as much like The End as last
year. I'm already in the post-apocolyptic nightmare!
"Welcome to my nightmare
Welcome to my breakdown
I hope I didn't scare you
That's just the way we are when we come down
We sweat and laugh and scream here
'cuz life is just a dream here
You know inside you feel right at home here"
Alice Cooper, from Welcome To My Nightmare
So if the world turns into some Road Warrior style arena I'm more
than prepared. The Chrysler is full of juice, the guns are all
loaded, the knives are sharpened. No, I don't have any food, water or
beer, who needs supplies when you've got ammo?
"Praise The Lord and Pass the Ammunition" goes a song by Frank Loesse
No, I don't think we're headed to the Road Warrior vision of the
future. Which is probably unfortunate, we could use some weeding out
of the species. No, we're headed for something more Orwellian than
Mad Max and as a cog in the machine I can do little about it except
squeak and hope I get greased in the right area, preferably the palm.
"Money
It's a crime
Share it fairly
But don't take a slice of my pie
Money so they say
Is the root of all evil today
But if you ask for a rise
It's no surprise that
They're giving none away"
Pink Floyd, from Money
So as we head into the next century I hope you're all greased in the
right places and I hope to see your greasy faces and the greasiest of
places, the Clermont Lounge this Friday. I've already greased my
teeth so I can get that full ear-to-ear Ms. America grin, greased my
wallet so the cash will flow freely, and my gullet is greased so the
beverages will positively cascade down. I've had many confirmations
for degenerates joining us and the more the merrier. People are
coming from as far as Alabama just for the Y2Clermont gathering. I
couldn't believe the response. Frankly, I still don't believe it. I
figure everyone will flake but just in case here's the complete
schedule of events for those planning to attend:
3 PM:
I'll be home gathering forces. If you want to join us for the
pre-party party feel free to call us and confirm we're still here -
404 872 2086. We'll probably have some kind of toast or something,
throw on the appropriate attire and head out for dinner.
6 PM:
Dinner at The Highlander. It's relatively cheap, has drinks, and is
close to home. A good place to meet us if you want. The Chrysler can
comfortably seat about 18 so anyone that wants to carpool feel free
to hook up with us for a ride.
8 PM:
Head to Clermont Lounge. Yes, that's very early but I'm going to try
to grab a booth or two so we don't all have to stand all night.
Besides, the drinks are cheap and there's always something to watch
at the Clermont, even if it's often painful to watch.
Midnight:
A) If the lights go out and the masses go plaid the Chrysler can
easily plow through any piece of plastic crap SUV on the road and get
us back to the Degenerate Press HQ, a mere four blocks away.
B) If the bombs go off the Clermont is a bomb shelter (the signs are
posted by the bathroom, believe it or not) and we should be as safe
there as anywhere in Atlanta. And they'll have drinks.
C) If the sky opens up and it's Judgement Day I don't want God making
any mistakes (there will be quite a line at the Golden Gates, St.
Pete might feel rushed.) I want to make damn sure I go to hell with
all the other fun people instead of accidentally getting shuffled off
to the wrong place and I can't think of anywhere on the earth that
doesn't insure proper judgement come Rapture.
"It's Christmas every day in Heaven!"
From Monty Python's Meaning of Life
D) None of the above. The party rages on at the Clermont with Kelly
Hogan doing her usual amazing show, drinks flowing, kisses exchanged,
and a genuine smile on the face of yours truly as the awareness sinks
in that life has improved a hundred fold this New Years over last.
Aftermath:
We got PLANS! That's right, we rarely plan anything beyond the next
party around here so either the new century has inspired us or we're
just getting old, but either way you'll be turning to face the
strange changes at Degenerate Press next century:
Improvements to just about all the web pages.
A trip to Spain in May is a possibility (anyone that's interested in
joining us contact us.)
We hope to find studio space so we can get to sculpting again. The Chrysler is
going to get some mechanical fixes, then painted. We might even move the
Degenerate Press office sometime this year!
So strap on the kevlar, or whatever other security blanket you need
to brave the post-apocolyptic setting of Clermont Lounge, and join us
for the beginning of the end!
"What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from."
T.S. Eliot, from Little Gidding
Take me to Degenerate Press' home page!
There's no place like home... no place like home...
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