Steven Hunley
02-14-2014, 02:32 PM
Dubrovnik Feb. 14, 1972
The disco, emanating warmth, light, and sound, would provide sanctuary. Once they walked through the door, past the guard, and down the stairs to the cellar, they felt the beat press their skin. The room smelled like stale perfume, cigarette smoke, sex and sweat. There was a bar at one end, a dance floor, and tables at the other. A deejay with headphones was bent over a console of shiny knobs with wires running away like twisted coils of black snakes. The ceiling was blue with smoke and in the center dangled a mirrored ball like in the 30’s with a spotlight beamed straight at it.
The crowd on the dance floor was one writhing body with dozens of hands like an exotic Nataraja. Its arms and hands and fingers extended in obeisance to Rhythm and Dance. Heads nodded and bobbed with dilated eyes like a cadre of cannibals anticipating a feast. Eddie's brain went electric the moment he saw money flashing in hands, both giving and getting, everywhere he looked. In the Babylon, bling bobbed on the surface of gritty reality like great gobs of fat on a restless ocean, suspended by greed and avarice, fueled by constant craving for acceptance. With an unlimited desire for flesh and more flesh, they defined themselves as fine young cannibals, easily drunk on a small jigger of sweet success. They couldn't take the harder stuff, and left that to the commissars and politicians back in Zagreb.
Many of the female gay young things from the country wore vanilla extract behind their ears like their mothers. A few of the young bucks, imitating their fathers, had been smoking corn-silk behind the barn, or attempting to distill Slivovitz from plums and sugar stolen from their mother’s pantries, poisoning their little brothers in the process. Now that they were old enough to drink at a club, their problems had grown like mutated spider’s webs.
And to make it all worse, to make it absolutely frantic, it was Valentine's day. Yes, they have Valentine's day in Dubrovnik, and it was Molotov Cocktail time to burn this mother down.
http://youtu.be/quin6TqUdRg Disco Inferno The Trammps
The disco, emanating warmth, light, and sound, would provide sanctuary. Once they walked through the door, past the guard, and down the stairs to the cellar, they felt the beat press their skin. The room smelled like stale perfume, cigarette smoke, sex and sweat. There was a bar at one end, a dance floor, and tables at the other. A deejay with headphones was bent over a console of shiny knobs with wires running away like twisted coils of black snakes. The ceiling was blue with smoke and in the center dangled a mirrored ball like in the 30’s with a spotlight beamed straight at it.
The crowd on the dance floor was one writhing body with dozens of hands like an exotic Nataraja. Its arms and hands and fingers extended in obeisance to Rhythm and Dance. Heads nodded and bobbed with dilated eyes like a cadre of cannibals anticipating a feast. Eddie's brain went electric the moment he saw money flashing in hands, both giving and getting, everywhere he looked. In the Babylon, bling bobbed on the surface of gritty reality like great gobs of fat on a restless ocean, suspended by greed and avarice, fueled by constant craving for acceptance. With an unlimited desire for flesh and more flesh, they defined themselves as fine young cannibals, easily drunk on a small jigger of sweet success. They couldn't take the harder stuff, and left that to the commissars and politicians back in Zagreb.
Many of the female gay young things from the country wore vanilla extract behind their ears like their mothers. A few of the young bucks, imitating their fathers, had been smoking corn-silk behind the barn, or attempting to distill Slivovitz from plums and sugar stolen from their mother’s pantries, poisoning their little brothers in the process. Now that they were old enough to drink at a club, their problems had grown like mutated spider’s webs.
And to make it all worse, to make it absolutely frantic, it was Valentine's day. Yes, they have Valentine's day in Dubrovnik, and it was Molotov Cocktail time to burn this mother down.
http://youtu.be/quin6TqUdRg Disco Inferno The Trammps