Time has great spin doctor, it is seen as this universal constant, all macho and solid where as in reality it's a flimsy substance so malleable and free, like a cellophane. Every child knows afternoons can last for ever but as adults the spin starts working and we forget...Almost!
Our weekend reckon down to the land of undergrounds and burners, whisky and feathers, was the field test of one basic paradigm. Surround yourself with good people, throw in an excuse for a kick ass party and apply liberal doses of medicine and the very fabric of time itself can be spun, squashed, stretched and completely sundered.
Setting- London, Rats Nest
Participants- sergeant Pepper, Muffin, Turtle, Helen, Zooty and Zero, Barbie Skinner, Carla
Duration- Friday to Monday
Materials - Elwire, Whisky, Feathers, Herbs, MIGHTY BOOSH
SUMMARY OF EVENTS
experiencing that sense of dread when you know you don't have enough time, you don't have your pass code for Megabus and if you fuck this up, your fucked. Pepper to the rescue, an enemy to cherish indeed. Granny Annie a pleasurable seating companion you could ever ask for, old people know stuff, we tend to forget that. that they are more than just funny smells, flat caps and floral designs.
Before departure from Edinburgh enjoying a sunny interlude in the Princess garden, rudely interrupted by a low flying pigeon that was inches away from a mid air collision with my ear. Bastard. Shouldn't be allowed in the sky, sure I could smell schnapps on his breathe as he hurtled past.
Feeling at home in the Nest of Rats, feeling a kindred spirit in the latest addition to our happy family, them man they call Turtle. Taking his elwire virginity was a pleasure, him taking to it like a duck to water all the reward I need. The challenge that he prove himself in gladitorial combat rescinded, not that I have the clearest recollection of issuing it in the first place.
Enjoying a sense of contentment in a poory lit basement, crafting costumes amongst people who share the blue peter make it yourself approach to fashion. Finding a light weight companion amongst our more hardcore participants, lightweights are great, light weights shall inherit the world. Reveling in the banter with a valiant if ultimately doomed enemy, Muffin I call first blood.
Hugs and kisses from burners new and old, like a fuckin kick start to your soul, giddiness in my stomach as the evening approaches. Yet haven't I been here for ever already and the lodestone event that attracted us down in the first place is still over the horizon, the experiment is on. Time has no idea the punishment that shall be meted out in the next 12 hours.
Wondering through windy tunnels and darkened streets with a motley crew that is tricked out in true playa attire, Roamer acting as our tutu clad icebreaker as this shard of dusty reality cuts a swathe to our ultimate location- Supacompression. Arrival, overload, costume camp, medicine, social pinball, face melting goggles, corsets, strange drinks, new burrow recruits. Welcome home! I love you all! Except you creepy old man, you I only like!
Abrupt end, malingering on street corners huddled in groups of pink, fluff, facepaint, glitter against the encroaching reality. Hasty escape into taxi towards another destination, another world, another hope. Hope turned to disappointment as the squat party was very dark with unexpected vibes, no sir you cannot buy my lovely disco pants with money you don't have. Marshalling of the troops for a return to the nest when we discovered a whole nother layer to the party that might have offered salvation. Said our goodbyes and departed with a sense of what could have been. Picked up Barbie Skinner on our travels, Result.
Time is my bitch now, having established my domain as the Rats Nest some very weird and intense experiences flow from quiet bed chats, the promise of an elephant and a little something I like to call the inebriation monster. Warning to all who seek to replicate this experiment, side effects include spontaneous cross dressing, feet slapping and the terrible realisation that all this fun HAS to be paid for at some point; that point is now.
Departing was with such sweet sorrow. An afternoon spent medicated and dandering through London, finding my shopping mecca in Camden and the prospect of another el-project left me barely able to face the journeyed back into the 9-5. Train journeys to random places you neither care about nor particularly want to visit are a less than welcome prospect when you realise what you are leaving.
CONCLUSION
Rats are good; rats that stick to the roof and glow in the dark are even better. I think this experiment shall act as another goad for me to leave my northern retreat and venture south. Time is having its revenge after all, it first enforces a comedown (the severity of which directly paralleling quite how intense your experience was) and then time just slips by taking its opportunities with it. I shall descend from the North like a phoenix reborn (note to self great idea for a costume) and take what opportunities pass my way.
scientifical-lee
