Tyler Stephenson
Michaela Vargas
English 30
15 June 2013
Clubbing
As social creatures we tend to congregate around events with personal interest; ideas that move us, events that we may house a glimmer of passion for. The polar to everything I am interested or take stock in, is “clubbing”. The boredom that one must endure is beyond any pain of the Inquisition. Every event is the same repetitive atmosphere, loud rooms, expensive drinks, and phony people. You can travel across the world and enter the same stage to find the same characters in the same roles. To not upset in contrast, the music designed for these crowds is equally as repetitive in both rhythm and style. You would be hard pressed to find more differences in any two club songs over the similarities. Coupled with the repetition is the level at which the music is hammered into you. If you had any intention of speaking to someone you have just met, forget it. The cascading beat is so overbearing that you soon find that even your thoughts have to yell. To go so long being drowned out of my own thoughts is now intrusive. The icing on the cake for me is the people who enjoy this. I am certain there are plenty of nice people who routinely find clubbing fun, however when all of the normal denizens look and act the same, how do you tell them apart. The patrons of these clubs all look to be cut from the same template. The men all wear the mask of a rich wannabe, spouting the same popular catchphrases