A typical example of a claustrophobic nightclub
|Pouting and posturing. Rinse and repeat.|
Another reason I despise their existence is mostly because they're not aligned with me and my tastes. It is the mecca of self-absorbed, plastic, over-privileged, "entitled" gits and morons. That's not to say that there aren't wonderful, creative, intelligent, real people in this world; there are- but rarely are they found in nightclubs.
I'm left wondering why these people keep coming back to drink and deafen themselves to the same pattern of organised noise week after week. Nightclubs were inexorably bound for hellishness when music became democratised. The people going to them have always had resoundingly undemanding tastes in music, which is why every revolutionary change in music was driven by artists and not by audience. Through the nightmare that is dance music, and DJ's who believe that playing records constitutes some sort of talent, the lunatics have now taken over the asylum. That is how we come to a point where dance music constitutes an achingly dull succession of bumps and bleeps, and those willing to dance to it end up making it in an endless cycle of onanistic idiocy. The one good thing, of course, about the noise level in clubs is the fact that you won't have to actually converse with the sort of people who want to tell you that they are in touch with their sensuality.
|A DJ getting ready to pollute the airwaves with generic beats and pulses.|
Nightclubs do seem an overly complicated and expensive way to acquire Chlamydia. More soberly, they are now targets of terrorists. Why bother? Do you want to spend your last moments of life with these drugged up posers? I can't imagine a more depressing end. Anyone who likes nightclubs is a total pleb. The earth produces these people naturally, and without excessive effort. Perhaps it cannot do without them. Pity the world is set up this way.