The People's Dance Party: Goonash meets Satoshi

The music, people and stupid moments that make up the nightlife

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Goonash meets Satoshi

Intercepted and transcribed by Beto, in the wee hours of the morning of March 3rd.

. . . as always, our craft was under cloak mode as were our independent persons. The Mayan Theatre in the Downtown LA sector seemed like a suitable edifice to land upon. Luckily, while waiting for repairs to our ion engines, we had something to take control of our idle time. We heard a constant pulsation of tremendous and exhilarating low sonic force coming from down under. We put on our holographic human facades and joined what were to become some semi-tribal festivities.

The focus of the night was a Homo Sapien named Satoshi Tomiie from one of the ultramodern, according to their cultures, islands of this world named Japan. He was oscillating between some primitive audio gear made out of petroleum derivatives, manipulated photons and assorted metal alloys with varying, flattened spherical silver cartridges going in and out of slots, much like our Halaharps. The architecture was decorated throughout with echoes of ancient relics from a more southern terrain. The lightscape was coordinated in a richly colored, hypnotic shimmer that visually vibrated along with the tones of the evening. The ten Faton high sonic towers which were strategically placed around this resonating temple had a penetrative force reminiscent of our Vibrason tanks back home. The depths of the almost subsonic and timely charges were teasing one of my upper hearts into a faster rhythm that caused my pair of stomachs to quiver and shudder with undelightful gastric disturbances. Well, as long as I was fifteen to twenty Fatons away, the ghastly sensations would dissipate.

Satoshi seemed to have been some kind of priest leading a cosmic ceremony. My eavesdropping on certain characters had led me to the borrowing of the word that can describe the music he played. It was considered Tech-House. There was a common thread to the painting of the sonic picture, the constant low end drive with off beat, metallic shivers here and there with well placed miniature interludes. The broad spectrum of sound was definitely recharging our subconscious remnants. Of course this would be a primitive description because of the infinite variables that could come out of the music. All was done with perfect and organic precision. I could not decipher any lapses in timing whatsoever in the audiosphere that everyone was mesmerized by. Even we fell victim to it by clinging to the tick-tock of the metronome that was governing us by, how shall I say, working us to " groove " to the beat.

All in all, the collective of Satoshi, music and creatures became some kind of psychic organism of it ' s own that could be felt in the middle of the ocean of ceremonious thrills and for a brief moment I caught and lost myself feeling somewhat connected to these. . . . . . . people. . .

:::transmission abruptly disconnected:::

Satoshi Tomiie
Liquified

posted by Beto # 9:40 AM

Comments:

Holy shit, you finally posted!

# posted by liz o. : 10:11 AM

ha ha, I hear ya on that ;)

# posted by Beto : 10:27 AM

we're getting de-virginized left and right around here.

# posted by KID C : 10:30 AM

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Goonash meets Satoshi

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