Feb. 5th, 2012

michiexile: (Default)
So Zion Train came to town for the Wee Dub Festival. So I went. And we stood there, packed as matches in a matchbox, on the pogo floor when they lay down the thick and heavy beat, driving, bouncing, making us all temporarily believers in Jah.

And we pogo'd. At least a few must have come away with bruised kidneys the way we pogo'd.

It is in this context. This marvelous, delirious, exhilirating, fantastic context, I ask...

What the H*** is wrong with you people? You people who see this pandemonium of a dance floor, and then bring your drink to the heaviest pogo-part of it? You people who bring glass bottles of beer out, dance with it waving around like a club, and then PUT THEM DOWN ON THE STONE FLOOR? You people who bring wide-brimmed, flimsy, and brimming mugs of beer, and expect noone to do anything unexpected. Yeah, not even when Zion Train decides it's time to drop the Beat Of Jah, and the entire house starts jumping from the beat together with the dancers. But you expect not to spill your drink.

WAT?

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