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Freakin 98 - Supermassive Halloween Rave
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» frankenraver replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 1:23pm |
 Coolness: 23185 | As some of you are aware, I recently published a book on Toronto's rave scene from the 90's titled,"Tuned In, Mashed Out: Confessions of a Rave Junkie." It chronicles the variegated exploits of girl raver G-Fly and her friends over the course of 49, angst ridden days.
I'm sure many of you know about the super massive, legendary Halloween Rave of 1998. It smashed attendance records for Toronto parties at that time when over 10,000 ravers freaked out at the Automotive ON CNE grounds. This historical event is included in "Tuned In, Mashed Out," amongst other happening raves from that era. I've posted an excerpt on my blog for your viewing pleasure: [ www.frankenraver.wordpress.com ] Peace out, Frankenräver |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» SourUltraFast replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 5:43pm |
 Coolness: 91360 | You sir a living in the past |
| I'm feeling hulk right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» perception replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 6:11pm |
 Coolness: 65885 | Nothing wrong with history |
| I'm feeling punkadelic right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» DCRn replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 6:22pm |
 Coolness: 158205 | You need an editor! I'm offering my services! Here's a paragraph I've taken from your excerpt and which I've slightly edited to better reach your readers. Hope you don't mind!
-------------------------------- As we got closer to the jungle room, I started rushing really, really hard. Holy shit…Eric wasn’t joking – this stuff was strong. My heart raced like mad as my body tingled all over & I began to feel tremendously pukey. I hoped to God that I wasn’t gonna hurl right here, right now, in the middle of a fucking crowd. And if so, Barney would be the 1st to get it. I swallowed desperately as I struggled to keep my upchuck down. A pair of Jedi warriors engaged in mock combat brandished their swords ahead of me. I was seriously tripping out on their light sabres as they wiggled before my eyes. An ecstatic fever swept over me as I broke out in a sweat. Penetrating basslines from that monstrosity of a sound system were beating in sync with my heart. Doof doof doof doof…. My entire being pulsated in time to the music. Even my gums were vibrating. Suddenly I became distinctly aware of this amazing, uptempo house track with a bouncy groove & wobbly sub-low resonating through the atmosphere, tripping me out even further as I heard this vocal loop cresting above acid horns like a happy surfer : ”When you feel that rhythm, moving thru your system… feel that rhythm, moving thru your system…” ------------------------------- As we approached the jungle-themed room, the uplifting properties of the narcotics I had partaken in started coursing through my veins. Egads! Eric had not boasted of this narcotic's potency in jest! Nausea overtook me as my heart rate accelerated in a dangerous and rapid manner. I let out a small prayer to the one true Lord, wishing not to purge myself amidst this fornicating gathering; all the while reminding myself to avange my current health situation on Barney, wouldst the situation worsen as the night progresses. Desperately holding in the contents of this midday's fabulous roast, I witnessed a pair of buffoons, dressed as monks of some strange and make-belief religious order. They produced long and colourful sabers - unnatural palettes painted over wooden sticks - and proceeded in recreating battles of long ago, when knights jousted to defend the honour of wanton princesses. Watching these men have at each other with their dull weapons only helped deepen the strange sense of disconnection with reality Eric's medication was triggering all over my person. I broke in a feverish sweat, my heart rate adjusting itself to weapon swings and the tribal percussions that emanated from a strange, dark totem of eldritch aspects. The mysterious altar of sounds pulsated as it chanted words of dark designs. DOOF, it spoke. DOOF. DOOF. DOOF! My body no longer my own, as if possessed by these mad words of power, started ondulating with the percussions. Curse this narcotic! I could feel my very skull vibrate with each word spoken. DOOF. DOOF! Suddenly, amidst the words and dark melodies of the eldritch altar, other words inserted themselves. Mere whispers at first, they developped into their own melody, their own chant. The sounds now progressing in strength, supplanting the dark altar, only served to push me further out of counsciousness and into a realm of non-euclidean geometry. The horror! The words, now an ocean of madness whose comprehension is beyond any mortal man, filled my every orifices, as would an ocean during a hurricane, breaking all the levees of my mind. At last, I could take no more and fell to my knees. I tried speaking over the music, over the new melody, over the beats of the dark altar; my words were but empty whispers, only gaining in power with each repeated endeavour. It was only when I realized that the music had stopped and that the omnipresent chant was not that of the dark altar or the waves of the non-euclidean melody did I realize that the maddening chant being heard came from my own voice. Those were my words! My voice! My own voice! And trembling, holding on to the last grasps of my sanity, I now heard the words, now understood their contents. It said: "Ia Ia Shub Niggurath! Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn!" And I understood. Curse Eric and Barney, the fools! As I closed my eyes and accepted the doom that humanitywas about to face, I could only feel sorry for them both; surely they had witnessed the same awakening, the same revelations. For you see, that is not dead which can eternal lie; and in strange eons, even death may die! --- I'm also available for audiobook services. |
| I'm feeling nerdy right now.. | |
| Good [+2]Toggle ReplyLink» El_Presidente replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 10:21pm |
 Coolness: 299295 | Originally Posted By DRNYARLATHOTEP
You need an editor! I'm offering my services! Here's a paragraph I've taken from your excerpt and which I've slightly edited to better reach your readers. Hope you don't mind! -------------------------------- As we got closer to the jungle room, I started rushing really, really hard. Holy shit…Eric wasn’t joking – this stuff was strong. My heart raced like mad as my body tingled all over & I began to feel tremendously pukey. I hoped to God that I wasn’t gonna hurl right here, right now, in the middle of a fucking crowd. And if so, Barney would be the 1st to get it. I swallowed desperately as I struggled to keep my upchuck down. A pair of Jedi warriors engaged in mock combat brandished their swords ahead of me. I was seriously tripping out on their light sabres as they wiggled before my eyes. An ecstatic fever swept over me as I broke out in a sweat. Penetrating basslines from that monstrosity of a sound system were beating in sync with my heart. Doof doof doof doof…. My entire being pulsated in time to the music. Even my gums were vibrating. Suddenly I became distinctly aware of this amazing, uptempo house track with a bouncy groove & wobbly sub-low resonating through the atmosphere, tripping me out even further as I heard this vocal loop cresting above acid horns like a happy surfer : ”When you feel that rhythm, moving thru your system… feel that rhythm, moving thru your system…” ------------------------------- As we approached the jungle-themed room, the uplifting properties of the narcotics I had partaken in started coursing through my veins. Egads! Eric had not boasted of this narcotic's potency in jest! Nausea overtook me as my heart rate accelerated in a dangerous and rapid manner. I let out a small prayer to the one true Lord, wishing not to purge myself amidst this fornicating gathering; all the while reminding myself to avange my current health situation on Barney, wouldst the situation worsen as the night progresses. Desperately holding in the contents of this midday's fabulous roast, I witnessed a pair of buffoons, dressed as monks of some strange and make-belief religious order. They produced long and colourful sabers - unnatural palettes painted over wooden sticks - and proceeded in recreating battles of long ago, when knights jousted to defend the honour of wanton princesses. Watching these men have at each other with their dull weapons only helped deepen the strange sense of disconnection with reality Eric's medication was triggering all over my person. I broke in a feverish sweat, my heart rate adjusting itself to weapon swings and the tribal percussions that emanated from a strange, dark totem of eldritch aspects. The mysterious altar of sounds pulsated as it chanted words of dark designs. DOOF, it spoke. DOOF. DOOF. DOOF! My body no longer my own, as if possessed by these mad words of power, started ondulating with the percussions. Curse this narcotic! I could feel my very skull vibrate with each word spoken. DOOF. DOOF! Suddenly, amidst the words and dark melodies of the eldritch altar, other words inserted themselves. Mere whispers at first, they developped into their own melody, their own chant. The sounds now progressing in strength, supplanting the dark altar, only served to push me further out of counsciousness and into a realm of non-euclidean geometry. The horror! The words, now an ocean of madness whose comprehension is beyond any mortal man, filled my every orifices, as would an ocean during a hurricane, breaking all the levees of my mind. At last, I could take no more and fell to my knees. I tried speaking over the music, over the new melody, over the beats of the dark altar; my words were but empty whispers, only gaining in power with each repeated endeavour. It was only when I realized that the music had stopped and that the omnipresent chant was not that of the dark altar or the waves of the non-euclidean melody did I realize that the maddening chant being heard came from my own voice. Those were my words! My voice! My own voice! And trembling, holding on to the last grasps of my sanity, I now heard the words, now understood their contents. It said: "Ia Ia Shub Niggurath! Ph'nglui Mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Wgah'nagl Fhtagn!" And I understood. Curse Eric and Barney, the fools! As I closed my eyes and accepted the doom that humanitywas about to face, I could only feel sorry for them both; surely they had witnessed the same awakening, the same revelations. For you see, that is not dead which can eternal lie; and in strange eons, even death may die! --- I'm also available for audiobook services. WOW. You have a lot of time on your hands. Congrats tho. well written |
| I'm feeling the president right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» DCRn replied on Wed Feb 29, 2012 @ 11:21pm |
| Coolness: 158205 | Time is not wasted if it helps me become a better writer :D Consider this the author's "jam", if you will! |
| I'm feeling nerdy right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» perception replied on Thu Mar 1, 2012 @ 10:13am |
| Coolness: 65885 | Impressive indeed! Your version has a fear and loading in las vegas feel to it, love it, I would read it. The author's version is too tight and on the cautious side of objectiveness, no story to it.
...Sometimes it's hard to accept the editors input, but it is true, you really have to adapt your writing style based on the audience. I am a scientific writer (research) and sometimes I cursed when I get my manuals back from my adviser. When my audience is social psychologists I have to factor in the person, but when my audience is neuropsychology theorists I get away with speaking in terms of theory only. Anyway, just an example how it's important to have a good editor by your side and knowing how to write and when. |
| I'm feeling punkadelic right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» DCRn replied on Thu Mar 1, 2012 @ 10:52am |
| Coolness: 158205 | Originally Posted By PERCEPTION
Impressive indeed! Your version has a fear and loading in las vegas feel to it, love it, I would read it. The author's version is too tight and on the cautious side of objectiveness, no story to it. ...Sometimes it's hard to accept the editors input, but it is true, you really have to adapt your writing style based on the audience. I am a scientific writer (research) and sometimes I cursed when I get my manuals back from my adviser. When my audience is social psychologists I have to factor in the person, but when my audience is neuropsychology theorists I get away with speaking in terms of theory only. Anyway, just an example how it's important to have a good editor by your side and knowing how to write and when. When I read "As we got closer to the jungle room, I started rushing really, really hard", I struggled really hard not to write "We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold." Because that's obviouslythe "inspiration" behind the writer's "novel". |
| I'm feeling nerdy right now.. | |
| Good [+1]Toggle ReplyLink» perception replied on Sat Mar 3, 2012 @ 2:59pm |
| Coolness: 65885 | :) many writers model other writers until they get their groove going.
Do you only edit fictional pieces? |
| I'm feeling punkadelic right now.. | |
Freakin 98 - Supermassive Halloween Rave
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