It’s entirely unclear when the last pair of raver pants were officially hung up. There are no overly nostalgic movies made about raving’s demise - unlike the romanticized purges of the last days of coke-fueled disco nights. However, it seems a new crop of ravers are being resurrected across urban dwellings. Thanks to the alt gods over at Hispter Runoff, we can definitively say that RAVERS are back, y’all! And they’re wearing beaded accessories their seven year old sister made for them at day care while sipping apple juice and eating goldfish crackers.
We’re not really sure where these new millennial ravers came from - if they evolved from frustrated My Chemical Romance fans or if they are being led by elderly ravers who have been waiting for years to finally peel off those skinny jeans in favor of the beloved and more comfortable raver pant. We also aren’t sure where the line is drawn between fucktard and raver. We do know that fucktards will suit up and go “watch” a DJ spin at a club, whereas ravers will generally dance around an entire room not really caring where the DJ is. Right, I mean, that’s how we did it back then.
More crazy pictures and PLUR after the jump!
Raving started because of the insatiable need of young suburbanites who were bored of wearing flannel shirts and vintage Levis (or AIDS clothes as some of their suburbanite moms might have called them) and fawning over serious boys playing Pearl Jam on their acoustic guitars. The rave scene promised bigger pants, Purim carnival face-paint, and music that came from nothing remotely resembling an instrument. And lots of drugs that weren’t pot. Dancing around a converted warehouse wearing clown makeup and a pacifier was a fine way to spend a Saturday night. But the scene began to taper off somewhere around 1998, when raves became known as “parties” and a merely referring to a party as a “rave” would get your amateur ass thrown back to the dorm, taking bong rips with freshman. Trying to get your friends to go to a “rave” in “‘Frisco” could have set you back years on the social acceptance scale.
Now they seem to have rallied their numbers and are beginning to feed on unsuspecting Chicanos from Simi Valley and installation artists who are need of decent coke in the Xanax flooded streets of LA. You’ve been warned.
I hope this means a renaissance in 2k8 LSD titles. Back in my day we had such wonders as Pink Elephants, Mad Hatters, Black Pyramids, Adios Mother Fuckers.
Such a rich history.
At every single rave I ever went to, I was always handed the exact same flyer about Mumia Abu-Jamal when I left. Totes bizarre.
Free Mumia! So like, whatever happened to him?
Still on Death Row, so far as I know. That’s what trying to appeal to the ourtaged sense of injustice of people who are candy-flipping on E and acid gets you: Jack shit. (Although personally I think that fucker is guilty as sin.)
STAY ON TOPIC!!!! Where the drunk sluts at?
[...] under: Uncategorized | Tags: fucktard, public school intelligentsia, rave | The ever fantastic Public School Intelligentsia finally define two age old concepts, what is the difference between a Fucktard and a [...]
You have triggered:
“My College Years Flashback”
Believe it or not, I’ve never done the E. Though, if you give me a hit of orange sunshine and a couple of glow sticks… i’ll probably lie to you about what kind of “visuals” I’m getting. No, I wouldn’t, but that fucking guy who sold us that strictnine laced shit would. (rat poison whatever) Fuck you Mike, your shit sucked. spring semester 96? walking around and around outside the white zombie concert with that gay dude, eric, tripping fucking balls. could not sleep all god damn night long.
ended up in the fucking projects for that weekend, smoking grass through a goddamn oxygen mask, halfway across the goddamn state. I went home with the dude who tripped out with us in the dorm. Don’t ask me why. Scared to be alone I guess? It was strange, we slept in the same bed, he had on queer underwear, and nothing happened. I was glad. Cuz I was like, dude, I know I’m not queer. 19… I wouldn’t live through that bullshit again for anything. I really don’t know anybody who’s 19 who knows what the fuck is wrong with them. That’s why I just contribute to the deliquency of minors. It’s like no… kids, just shut the hell up and drink this shit. Really, it’s enough.
just kidding.
Though really, you don’t know anybody until you see them in their underwear. He had the banana hammock drawers on… this, the same guy who gave my gay friend Eric shit about how being queer was a choice. I was thinking… it must not be a choice then. Cuz he had on the queer drawers and was fighting his queerness. I was like, this is denial, it was not an erotic thing. It was this thing where you’re like… man, how is it that I didn’t know you were queer? Or, do you even really know? I bet anything he is living in haite - ashbury now, where the last of the wanna be hippies are, sucking cocks. I bet he is….
[...] Runoff and OMG! They just grabbed hold of yet another resurgent 90’s trend that could rival Nu-Ravers: Step-Dad [...]