Return to Everything dirty, sweat yourself clean (idea)

[Everything Everything]

standing [in the crowd] atop the floor in the room under the roof within the sound around the space-

There's a time and place for all, and this one, this one, here, now, green [diatomic] haze crosssection in the [fluid dark]. Purple backlit with multichrome strobes.

I am waiting here waiting here waiting here with the strange [jangling] [spincycle] wandering in my muscles. [mkb] has branded himself with the two affiliations he proudly wears; on one arm, [Erin] has written [Everything2] in block capitals with a worn [felt-tip]. The other arm bears the single word dirty, borne out by the printout nametag he wears that proclaims him a member of [the dirtylist]. He will later share shouts of recognition and moments of sync with other members of said list as they lean over the railing of the [mezzanine] just above us.

I, too, am an [Everythingian|everything]. I, too, am dirty.

This, then, is us; everything dirty everything dirty everything dirty everything everything everything everything-

[Liquid Todd]'s sounds falter slightly as the stage, now booted from its electronic sleep, shakes itself free and takes up the weight of the vibe with loops visibly straining as they accept the shared pulse shared sound shared sight of [the thousand and Thousand] who wait here for the loops and fury.

[Underworld|Karl and Rick] are on stage, now, with another anonymous assistant (not [Darren Emerson|Darren], that's all we know, at least, without looking at album notes) tweaking various controls and boxes. The [flylight]s offer a soft tan illumination on their faces; the black T-shirts [render] their [Ultravox|visage]s unto [antigravity], floating madly behind the enormous bank of [electronics|silicon] that lurks up there for our enjoyment.

I feel the loops shake off the slip in tempo, string up to their own more solid beat -

this is why we are all here

dancing here then the only place I will with [worlds enough] of mine and others to hold their attention away and hold mine rooted in the spot. For the first and not only time tonight, as the machines finally SLAM into [sync] with the precision of [slavemaster] [SMPTE], I wish dearly that I [security clearance|could smoke] - but this is as close as I will get. The ventilation here in [Hammerstein Ballroom|New York] is better than was available at the [rez|last show] I saw; there's a persistent cool draft playing across my back. I take a deep, deep breath; air and smoke and [fog juice] and [sweat] and [alcohol] play across my [olfactories] before rushing down into my lungs shouting catch me if you can! as they vanish. My [diaphragm] is ready for this, it's been ready all week. Looping tighter, looping longer, looping louder, then the microphone leaves the stand in [Karl]'s hand to announce the opening of the show-

[The Walking Man|I'm invisible]
(an eraser of love / an eraser of love)
[why don't you call me] [I feel like flying in two]
I'm invisible
an [lies|eraser of love]
an [infidelity|eraser of love]
why don't you call me I feel like [schizophrenia|flying in two]
an eraser of [faith|love]
an eraser of [hope|love]

I [don't dream (ice cream)] [I scream so much]
(you know what I mean)
[bandwidth|this electric stream]
and my tears [Serial Experiments: Lain|in league with the wires]
and [power|energy] and [state machine|my machine]
this is [my beautiful dream]
I'm [hurting no one]
hurting no one
I want to [Blockstackers Intergalactic|give you everything]
I want to give you energy
I want to give a good thing
I want to give you everything
everything everything everything everything
in [Cerenkov radiation|one final scream] of love who could
[climb this high]
[Asuka Langley Sohryu|she looks beautiful like a child] [I feel tears]
and I want to [little death|scream]
you know what I mean- 'cause this is
[First of all, do no harm.|hurting no one]
(and a razor of love)
hurt the necessary feeling
[why don't you call me] (I feel like flying in two)
why don't you call me (I feel like flying in two)
why don't you call me (I feel like flying in two)
why don't you call me ([resonance|I feel like flying in two])
an [bitterness|eraser of love]-

Long past the [blood sugar], I'm cracking fat into [adenosine triphosphate|carbon fuel] and I can [body heat|feel it happening]. My feet [sluggard's penance|hurt like hell] from the [Caterpillar|crappy shoes] I'm wearing, my throat feels like someone's been using it for an [ashtray].

The sweat is running from me in sheets and [rivulets], molecules seeking [equilibrium] to dump their little shaking brownian motion down to my (my) skin. My shirt is completely soaked; there is no self-consciousness in the [Hammerstein], and I am forced to convince myself not to [blood|rub] my [sweat|now-salty] [tears|eyes] (see you later) but can't count on help because [strobe light|the world has multiplexed] finally. The beat is there, the loops are tight, the lasers lit, and I am pulled helplessly into the vortex of music [involuntary response].

I can feel the dirt and sweat and dust and other [detritus] of the car trip [sloughing off] into the surroundings...perhaps this is the way to deal with feeling [wound out] and [tension|overstrung]. I am a dirty. I am with Everything. Gotta be careful, [hai?]

Eveything dirty, sweat yourself clean


-[October 18, 2002]-
[Underworld] show
[Hammerstein Ballroom]
W. 34th St., [NYC]

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