Motley Blog

I tried to post a claim on Wikipedia for inventing the Rave. It survived an initial challenge but later would be pulled down. The production group operated under the name 'Deviant DoubleSpeak', aka the Doctors of Dental Science, DDS. Several events were attempted, only one was funded, 'SpringFire, a Bachnalian Firefest'. The general idea was 'participatory entertainment' with volunteer 'actors' mingling with the crowd with a very loose impromptu oriented 'script'.

Raves are implicitly associated with the drug Ectasy. This event didn't have that connection, however it was within a year or two of when it first started showing up on that Campus, likely one of the first. I think the claim to being the first Rave has some relevance as part of a tradition of partying that includes the Grateful Dead and Warhol type loft events. I actually have never tried that particular drug, a minor regret.

The best evidence of this connection likely comes from an even more memorable event a year later closely following the themes of this one, organized by a participant.

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FWIW, I don't think this was the proposal that was funded. I do believe this group did an event themselves, a bit more arts oriented, in the same theme. Very well done.

BTW, Phil and I would probably make a pretty good director/producer team, should anyone have the backing.

I'm not a fan of Conan O'Brien, but I'm awake tonight - not a good sign, but that is a totally seperate story.

For what it is worth, Conan strikes me as the sort of smart ass rich boy that would have been holding court in Rome during its fall. FWIW2 - in a parallel universe I could've become a very similar character, if I'd continued my east coast college age pranks and politics.

Leno had Cosby, so grandfatherly as to be invoking god himself. Conan has Snoop Dog - and frankly their comedy bit was shere genius:

Snooper Delegate Snoop Dog offered to solve all of the Country's problems, including Ms. Elliott Spitzers, if you get my drift....

On the subject of college pranks - I did use my East Coast Evergreen school's civiliian security service as a foil in a prank - by calling them in (in hindsight, probably on tape) to a situation where I knew they were coming to. I forget if it was that party or another one soon after, but there was a 'keying' of a patrol car - a la the recent West Coast Evergreen rioters - and for the record, I had nothing to do with it.

Also, for the record, the drug dealer was, and hopefully is, a good friend, And although I did do drugs in college (I was actually mostly past it by the time I started) I don't believe I ever purchased them from that individual.

As to being awake, well that's a stress sign, for me, that says walk away.

I guess I'll go turn off Conan and watch the rest of Jean Luc Godard's 'Contempt'.

In reflecting on comments regarding the Dalai Lama I realize I made an ommission about my religious influences - and a great little story.

I worked for a year as a legal messenger - S. King and Pierce County every day - plus legal service in SE Seattle, a large minority area. The biggest thing volume wise were these small claim suits over bounced parking checks. The biggest dollar wise was probably New Hope Baptist church.

New Hope had been burned a few years earlier and the suit was regarding the construction loan to rebuild, which they had defaulted on, or some such. The reverend, Robert Jeffries, is known as an activist type - taking on Nordstrom most notably. Though he might be a bit of a Jeremiah Wright type he also worked closely with the mostly white Church Council of Greater Seattle. I didn't know him well, but we had met, and I liked him.

In order to get ahold of people for the legal service I had to show up just prior to the Sunday Church service. So imagine, if you will, the white boy entering perhaps the most radical successful black church in Washington when the most faithful have already gathered. Key the church choir warming up and the church elders gathered at the Baptism pool. This is where I needed to wait, until that morning's baptisms were completed. The one face I remember was an early teen female getting the fear of god put into her followed by a quick dunk.

I don't know if that writing captures the experience, but it was certainly quite memorable.

**********

Curiously my earliest memory ever is of playing with black children at one of the first Head Start programs, I believe just as that program was getting started. Mom had been a social worker in L.A. County, getting promoted to supervisor just before getting pregnant with me. She volunteered for this Head Start program - perhaps with an eye to a job.

My memory is mixed - I do think there was some sort of an incident - nothing any more significant than any other non-racial playground incident. I remember that vaguely - the two strongest memories are more emotional ones - I remember stopping going and Mom's emotional state as we left. I was sad about leaving, even in spite of the incident. The overwhelming memor was one of curiosity - of having kids to play with that were very different from me and trying to figure out what it all meant.

Don't Follow Me I'm Lost

by Richard Rushfield

2009

At the height of the Reagan revolution author Richard Rushfield chose to attend the most prestigious radical institution of higher learning, Hampshire College. This book is his story, and the story of the allied group of artists, producers and marketers that was the Supreme Dicks. It was a coming of age in a moment of political and artistic zen, the time between punk and grunge in the musical world.

The Supreme Dicks were the sperm that fertilized the egg that would become the Universe of Nirvana, Sonic Youth, and Dinosaur Jr, and, as a side project, create the first X fueled raves.

In this book RR skewers the pinnacles of the corrupt and hypocritical NE establishment with humor blending Sean Penn in 'Fast Times at Ridgemont High' and Hunter S. Thompson. His words are filled with the freshness and perspective of a west coaster wandering free in the strict class society of the east coast.

Rushfield leaves the titans that used Hampshire College, and the Dicks, to forge the abusive corporate and political tool of Nifong political correctness sleeping under the bridge with recently released Priest pedophiles.

You however, will walk away laughing, with a buddha smile of enlightenment and individual empowerment that will carry you through whatever the bastards may throw your way.

Available at Amazon and other booksellers.

(A mea culpa: I was a friend of the group in its early days - I believe I was the one who started calling the civilian security force as a prank, a 'theme' that apparently persisted after my departure from the campus.)

I'm spending my first Christmas in the desert SW, and getting at least a bit more exercise, though even with the sun it is quite cold.

This isn't a Christmas song, per se - but it works for me.

The Supreme Dicks were an infamous grunge era band originating at Hampshire College in the early 1980's. I was the band's first, self-appointed, 'business manager' which didn't mean a whole lot, save for one very epic event. If I recall correctly I was also the responsible individual starting a habit of calling the private campus security force and complaining about our own events, as a form of 'guerrilla' theater.

Below the jump is an excerpt from the Richard Rushfield book, 'Don't Follow Me, I'm Lost' concerning related events. The story, legend, is true, though the name, 'Billy Moser', is not. This excerpt starts right after Rushfield describes the security habit.

Or, as Bob Dylan would say, "The Times they are a-Changing..."