Anti Social House

The room is packed with casual pedistrians on a dance floor, everyone donning headphones, wearing dark shades, and busily typing away on cellphone keyboard pads. Dance floor territory is at a premium everyone appears to feel threathed from space invasion, tension runs high, a few tourists begin to talk to themselves in hopes of allivating a bit of the invisible yet overwhelming uncomfortable aniexty beginning to swell, an erratic sea of xenophobia amongst citizens of the same planet, same country, same being, what does it matter. This is the Anti Social House Party, a throwdown where everyone in attendance stays in their personal comfort bubble far away from the self induced mania of having to meet new people, still there are various ways to circumvent the 20th century ritual of face to face communication.

A chat room for the Anti Social House Party has been started on Skype, as well as a Facebook page, unlimited bandwith free wireless internet for some of the artistical types who have already began posting videos of the celebration, not to mention the resident DJ of the night, taking requests via his Twitter account, no need to fear the reaper at this social gathering or any other human contact at all, just post a personal profile, in the next hour the emcee of the bash will be randomly introducing people via Zoosk, Match.com and for the more daring types Chat Roulette, taking all the guess work out of learning more about that potential someone, become immersed in the virtual individual, scroll through their likes and dislikes, digital avatars have been constructed for possesion in order to have conversations through distant means without ever speaking, just type away, send links from your favorite viral videos, post links to illegal downloads of music each of you enjoy, create a digital mixtape playlist, share favorite bars, clubs, books, restuarants, and movies, with a myriad of websites, blogs, and saved favorites, go hand in hand down the world wide web of consumer fetishes. You can tag each other in sintilating photos throwing up gang signs, drinking waterdown cocktails, while personalizing your attire for the digital avatar, customize the body, looked ripped minus the sweat of the gym and dieting, hell, be a squid if you want, everyday is Halloween in cyberspace. All is silent at the Anti Social House Party, no one moves except to type or click on their cellphones, looking at no one, expressionless, as I sit in a bar this afternoon, completely seperated from all the other patrons in the place, knowing the Anti Social House Party is the only real party left in town, a few drinks more, while watching the Friday night 9 to 5 crowd spill over into the tavern, like a pin just pulled from a grenade, a stampede is formed in the direction of the bar with well conformed employees sweating through another week of potential unemployment, increasing demands for productivity, and gravity of existing in credit/debt society, the government is in the red, so why not all its citizens, no wonder everyone is already drunk at 5pm on a Friday afternoon, discussing the politics of the workplace, frustrated by management, fed up with co-workers who have no idea what they doing, as well as kiss asses that take all the credit for success without actually assisting on a particular project. All these conversations float around me like nervous caustic energy rapidly moving through the bar randomly colliding at ever increasing speeds, generating more anger, more hate, and more desire to drink. It seems no one can stop drinking now, as patrons jump over the bar and begin chugging the hard liquor straight from the bottle in attempt to sedate themselves from the webs of the office cubicle lifestyle. A casade of drunk debauchery crashes on these people who impulsively start to lash out, first in words, then with fists, barstools, empty liquor bottles, and beer taps, the frustration of being caught in the slave/work circle is being dramatized tonight.

The landlord has no choice but to call in the riot squad who arrive with trugdeons, mace, and aerosol forms of MDMA, nothing left to do but hose down this crowd with the MDMA, mix in some opiates with that cocktail, the boys at the station, call it obidence, all enforcement officers must be hosed down with it in order to understand the effects of passiveness, bliss, and acceptance, once in a while some of the riot squad members sneak a bit out, goes over well at the dance clubs, turns those self indulgent beasts into liquid jelly, like a god damn Roman orgy once that obiedence spray hits them proper, that's when you hit them with the consumer construct program codes, such as spend 600 hundred dollars on dress shoes, 5000 dollars on VIP booth bottle service, sell cocaine, MDMA, sell your body, your soul, never let the night end, it is all waiting, don't let the last record play, just overdose, time warp and arrive in the future the next day, black out equals time travel, moments the subconscious shall never recall, give me Zombiedust or give me death.