London Pre-X-Day Emergency Devival Report

From: Rev Priest <revpriest@dalliance.deletethis.net.invalid>
Newsgroups: alt.slack
Date: Wed, Apr 10, 2002 6:01 PM

Rev Natasha Xavier and Reverend Plastic Mediator have managed
to do what the rest of us have consistently failed to do
over the last two or three years and they've *actually
booked us a London gig for X-Day* which is so surprising and
such good news that we decided to party in London for a
weekend while we arranged the finer details of what will
be happening at the end of the world party.

Slitta arrived during the day on Friday at some point and
threw half of the wine he brought with him on the floor in
the airport in a mad fit of clumsiness. He had to use his
sleeping bag to wipe up the rose mess and then go out to
buy another one. He had plenty of time for that since I
wasn't due to meet him until I finished work around six.

I arrived in Liverpool Street around the time I was due
so I only had to wait half an hour until Slitta finally
turned up with his holy pipe and divine image of the
Dobbs-head so that I'd recognize him. We got straight on
the tube to ditch his stuff at my flat and get some food.
Trouble is, by the time Slitta had brought me a meal and
we'd eaten it we were already ten minutes late to meet
Pope Black. He's not answering his phone and Rev Nobby Styles
was confused and would have been even later than us. In
true Dobbs style we smoked a joint and headed out there
at a leisurely rate only to arrive forty minutes after
the arranged time yet almost exactly as the others finally
dragged themselves in. Some point later in this weekend
we noticed that /all/ the tenured Subs around were
completely watch-less. We're not particularly happy to be
living on this planet of the clocks, living our life by
the minute and hour ruled over by the Conspiracy and their
Tick Tock TicK Tock Tick, yet we still manage to synchronize
our lives through the power of JR "Bob" Dobbs and manipulation
of the Luck Plane, not to mention Time Control.

We didn't really have much time left before the UK Licensing
Conspiracy closed all the pubs on us so we decided to go
straight to meet up with the others in the Pub. On the
way Pope Black and his two friends from Germany explained
to me their aims during the weekend. These were simple:
Four holy sacraments for "Bob" are on the menu and the
agenda:

* Vodka
* Chicken Wings
* Hookers
* Cocaine

"Bob" warped the luck plane enough that soon after we arrived
in the Worlds End we even /managed to get seats/ which is
fairly unusual in that place. We managed to get plenty of drinking
done, plenty of ranting about "Bob" and the Conspiracy and Slack
and the End Of The World and Time Control and the Luck Plane
and whatnot and almost no organizing for the X-Day party at all.
No problem, we'll head back to my flat and smoke a little then
go over to Club X. It's name is strangely reminiscent of Planet
X, where the Love Goddesses have already left home on their
way to rescue us and torture all the pinks so what choice do
we have? It's just some indie nonsense and it's even more full
of kids and pinks and glorps and the Unsaved than I remember
from when I used to end up here when I was looking for Popscene
occasionally years back. Still, little things like atmosphere
and fun can be created by any small group of Subs under even
the most difficult of circumstances so we hung around for a while
and eventually decided it was bedtime so headed home.

Pope Black could see that my front room would be full of snoring
and smelly Subgenius bodies all night so he talked Natasha into
letting him take her bed. Nobody ever takes my bed unless they
plan to share it with me after a fuck or something, but apparently
there is room for differing opinion on this matter, Natasha said
she'd take her couch and they headed off. The remaining folks
smoked a little more then I hit the sack and left the snoring
and stinking to the remaining three.

Around lunchtime the next day we finally manage to get the universe
started up again and Dave calls us. We go for lunch at a Wetherspoon
pub around the corner then decide to go to the Fortean Times conference
which Matt, who had come down from Avebury or somewhere and then
driven us around half of last night, had recommended. Indeed it was
half the reason he was here at all.

By the time we got there it was about half four and the Conference
finished at six. Unwilling to pay the seventeen and a half quid
they wanted for a day-ticket we haggled them down to a fiver
and went on it. Since we'd missed all the talks and lectures and
ranting pretty much all that was left to see were book-shops full
of UFO's and Atlantis and other strange and bizarre things. One
old guy who was whoring his book on UFO sightings came over to us
and asked us about "Bob", since Pope Black was wearing a Dobbs
head. Turns out he was an ordained minister, so we talked to him
for a while and invited him to our Emergency Devival later
that night. Unfortunately he was already going to a Fortean
party, so that was the last we saw of him.

Slitta and Jake brought some books, Pope Black noticed that
one was about Anton Lavey, the modern founder of the Church
Of Satan. He tells us that on his deathbed Anton had been
talking to Nu-Monet. Anton had apparently repented on his
death-bed and handed over thirty dollars to Nu Monet, saying that
he'd made a massive mistake and wanted to repair the damage.
Nu Monet took his money and sent it to "Bob", so according
to Pope Black, Anton Lavey will be seeing us on the Escape
Vessels come X-Day to confirm the story himself. I guess
Nu Monet could do that here too though, but I may have got
the name confused, Pope Black might have said someone else.

We had to rush off to the Intrepid Fox once all that was
done with though, not the ideal location but so long as
we got there early enough to claim most of upstairs for
our own evil purposes it should work out okay. We thought
there was a good chance that the crowd there would be
fairly Subgenius friendly anyway. Once everyone had arrived,
including TomBuck who'd never even heard of "Bob" except
for my ranting about him on Kuro5hin.org, we tried to get the
DJ to turn off the music for a few minutes so we could rant but
it turns out that the Intrepid Fox is a Conspiracy Spy Venue,
they refused outright. We even collected some money to
Bribe the wankers into giving us five minutes but they
said to "Stick that money up your arse". After very nearly
climbing on the pool table to do just exactly that we figured
that we might as well just clear the place out. Everyone
but the six or so Pinks in the upstairs room trooped out
onto the streets never to set foot in the place again.
Pope Black cursed the pub from the outside and we renamed
it from here on out for all eternity to be called the
"Intrepid Fucks", and cursed all their customers to get
old and grow wrinkled.

Rev Xavier and Rev Plastic Mediator took us off from there
to "Garlic and Shots", where the bar man DID agree to turn
down the music for a few minutes but it turned out we needed
more so we went to the garden outside to rant for a while.

During this holy ranting TomBuck decided that his soul too
was important enough that he wanted to GET OFF, he wanted
to be on the Escape Vessels with us all rather than frying
and burning and being Tortured on EarthFarm1 when the Xists
get back. Yay and hosanna, Praise "Bob", we in fact recruited
a total of THREE new ministers that evening. The newly
ordained "Evil Pope Tom", the brand new "Rev Intrepid Fucks",
and Jake who came over with Pope Black all paid their thirty
dollars and all will be escaping this hellhole with us
come the end of the world this July. Rev Carl should be
sending the money to Jesus as soon as he gets all the details.

From here, come kicking out time plus much time chatting
on the streets, we decided to go join a friend of mine at
some party in Imperial Gardens. We noticed that so far we had
done exactly no organizing for the X-Day party at all,
and Rev Xavier promised to email us the next morning to
go over to Plastic Mediator's house and do some /actual/
organizing stuff. Then most of us crawled back into the
rear of Mat's van for a journey to South London full of
swearing and Blaspheming for "Bob", full of hatred and
bile from the new Evil Pope Tom and full of much bashing
around into each other since Mat's driving was erratic,
or at least felt that way from the back.

Pickle is "Techno", apparently, and it turns out that I
can tell the difference between one type of dance music
and another since I didn't like the "Techno" nearly so
much as the "Trance" that I've been finding myself listening
to a little lately. This whole dance/rave scene is new to
me and doesn't make a lot of sense yet. Still, eventually
everyone "Got Sorted" who wanted to and the rest fucked off
to Rev Carl's house around half two I think. Then until they
kicked us out at around seven there was much dancing and
chatting and, for me at least, lots of sitting around smoking
since I was already way too knackered basically.

When they did kick us out we walked over to the Tube Station
only to find that the first tube wasn't for another half
an hour. Some girl sat around combing all the knots out of
her hair talked to us for a while. She's called Cat, it
seems. I recommended doing what I always do and just leaving it
until you can wash and condition it, the combing gets much easier
then. We talked to her essentially until the train arrived and
then continued to do so after we boarded. She lives further
north than me and invited us all back to her place. I was way
too knackered, knew how hard the journey she was talking about
doing would be and declined but Pope Black and Yetsin (Sp, for
sure) didn't know and went back for Pizza and dope and chat while
Slitta and I came back to my flat for sleep.

Jake called first thing the next afternoon and we said we'd
wait here for him. He arrived just as Pope Black called and
arranged to meet us in the Pub later that afternoon and
Slitta had to go off to get his plane home. Then I took
Jake around Camden Market for a while before we met up with
the Pope. He suggested we go to this Purple Turtle place
that Cat works at. Since Xavier hadn't emailed us after
all I could see no reason not to until we got there and
found it full of yet more "Techno". Oh well, there's booze
and stuff around at least and we sit about and chat and
watch the crazy numbers of pretty girls dancing.

Somebody asks us if we "Want to be on TV and tell us what
you expect from a good night out". I'm about to say
"NO", when I realize this could be a chance to rant about
"Bob" on *national television*, so I take a form and
fill it in mentioning "Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll and
UFO's and 'Bob'" as the ideal ingredients while Pope Black
writes stuff about his holy sacraments, none of which
he's actually managed to get so far.

When they finally kick us all out of that place at midnight,
(Very unusual to be open so late in London on a Sunday), we
come back here for yet more pizza and dope. The answering
machine has a message: "'Eh Adam, I'm Slitta, I lost my flight,
I'll hang around until five o clock in the morning to get my
next flight, I'll phone Dave now" and another similar from him
an hour later. He meets us at my flat when we get back.

We fall asleep one by one watching "Rings Around The World"
by the Super Fury's and smoking etc. Dave says he knows the
Ministry of Truth, who did the video for Run Chrstian Run, and
he's upset they never mentioned it to him. A little less than
four hours later everyone has to rush because the Taxi's
come to take them away. I collapse back into bed and finally
force myself out to work around an hour and a half late
and feeling shit.

During work that afternoon I get an email from a latent friend,
Maunder, who reminds me that I'm off to see Garbage at an MTV
concert that evening. Shit, and I was looking forward to getting
into bed early and sleeping lots and lots. I have to quit work a
little early to come back here, shower and change then head over
to Hackney's "Ocean".

The strangest thing about MTV concerts that I've seen on the TV
is that the crowd is always really staid and slow and dull and
basically /pinker/ than usual. The same is true of the crowd
when you're there live. I mean I'm almost completely partied out
after the weekend and I've got more life than these guys. I guess
maybe everyone else is even more fucked but Maunder thinks it's
more likely because they're actually genuinely Timid, they
wouldn't go to a "normal" gig or rave or whatever because they'd
be too scared. He's certainly right when he points out that
walking around, even through crowded parts of the venue, is
easy as pie. These folks just melt quickly out of the way as
compared to a "normal" gig.

It might just be all the extra lights which make it much hotter
than usual of course. When Shirley and the Band get on stage it's
immediately clear she's bleached her hair and got it cut short.
Wow, big change, I simply don't fancy her at all anymore no matter
how well she sings or dances etc.

Propaganda
===========

There is only about *Seven weeks* until the End Of The World
now. I've told the folks I know on kuro5hin.org that I'll be
writing some text rants about once a week until X-Day to drum
up bodies for the gig and convert folks over to "Bob". I'll be
posting articles in the diary section of K5 here:
http://www.kuro5hin.org/user/priestess/diary
Explaining all the central tenets of the Church, trying to get
them all so excited about the End Of The World, and in particular
about the X-Day Party in London, that they'll all drop whatever
they're doing and fly half way across the globe if needed to be
in London for the show. Here are the titles of the text rants I'll
be writing, any advice you can give can only help:

* Slack
* "Bob"
* The Conspiracy
* The End Of The World
* Subgenius History
* Pinks and Glorps and Latents and Subs
* The Party, or kill me

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Original file name: London Pre-X-Day Eme.txt - converted on Thursday, 29 May 2003, 16:43