22 March 2012

Clubs Suck


Here's a terrific opinion piece from the Guardian, a UK publication. Mr. Charlie Brooker tells us something we ALREADY knew-that nightclubs suck. I'll intersperse some of my wit & wisdom amongst his thoughts, but not much. Mr. Brooker did such a bang up job on trashing clubs that there isn't a whole lot I can add to the mix.

I originally ran this in December of 2008. I thought it was time to rerun it, so my newer readers could see this...


Nightclubs are hell. What's cool or fun about a thumping, sweaty dungeon full of posing idiots?

I went to a fashionable London nightclub on Saturday. Not the sort of sentence I get to write very often, because I enjoy nightclubs less than I enjoy eating wool. But a glamorous friend of mine was there to "do a PA", and she'd invited me and some curious friends along because we wanted to see precisely what "doing a PA" consists of. Turns out doing a public appearance largely entails sitting around drinking free champagne and generally just "being there".

That's not so bad-getting champagne and getting PAID to drink it...

 Obviously, at 36, I was more than a decade older than almost everyone else, and subsequently may as well have been smeared head to toe with pus. People regarded me with a combination of pity and disgust. To complete the circuit, I spent the night wearing the expression of a man waking up to Christmas in a prison cell.
"I'm too old to enjoy this," I thought. And then remembered I've always felt this way about clubs. And I mean all clubs - from the cheesiest downmarket sickbucket to the coolest cutting-edge hark-at-us poncehole. I hated them when I was 19 and I hate them today. I just don't have to pretend any more.

I never liked clubs, either. Your sentiments are similar to my own. The only reason I went was to either enjoy some music and hang out with some buddies, or try scoring some chicks. I wasn't too successful at the latter, as clubs aren't my scene. Clubs are better suited for extroverted, 'peacock' type of personalities-IOW, attention whores. Since I'm not one of those, I never did well in clubs...

I'm convinced no one actually likes clubs. It's a conspiracy. We've been told they're cool and fun; that only "saddoes" dislike them. And no one in our pathetic little pre-apocalyptic timebubble wants to be labelled "sad" - it's like being officially declared worthless by the state. So we muster a grin and go out on the town in our millions.

Isn't THAT the truth! I played along for a while, pretending to like them. However, when I seldom went to them, that kinda blew my cover, know what I mean? When I was in the Navy, I took my grandfather's advice; when I headed out on liberty, I headed the opposite direction the rest of the guys took. They went to the bars, while I went snorkeling, sightseeing, stuff like that. To me, that was more cost effective and a better use of my time...

Clubs are despicable. Cramped, overpriced furnaces with sticky walls and the latest idiot theme tunes thumping through the humid air so loud you can't hold a conversation, just bellow inanities at megaphone-level. And since the smoking ban, the masking aroma of cigarette smoke has been replaced by the overbearing stench of crotch sweat and hair wax.

I just LOVE the imagery you use here-ouch! Just the sensory impressions of your description is enough to dissuade me from ever going into a club again-not that I was ever big on cigarette smoke-yuck...

Clubs are such insufferable dungeons of misery, the inmates have to take mood-altering substances to make their ordeal seem halfway tolerable. This leads them to believe they "enjoy" clubbing. They don't. No one does. They just enjoy drugs.

Drugs render location meaningless. Neck enough ketamine and you could have the best night of your life squatting in a shed rolling corks across the floor. And no one's going to search you on the way in. Why bother with clubs?

To see and be seen, man! Or, so attention whoring sluts can strut their used up, disease ridden stuff. I used to go skating down on the Jersey Shore when I lived down there. Some of the towns have clubs, so I'd see the habitues lining up outside. WTF do people wait in LONG ASS LINES to get into these horrid places anyway?! They'll wait for hours to get in to a trendy club! Even then, they might not get in! You have to have the desired 'look', so you'll blend in with the clientele-gag. There are articles on the web that tell you how to build rapport with the bouncers, so you can get in to the club quickly. Sorry, but that BS doesn't qualify for my time or interest. Sorry I digressed...

Anyway, I'd be skating in these shore towns, deriving my entertainment from people watching (cheap and better than the clubs), and I'd see the guys and gals lined up outside, hoping the club's bouncers would let them in next. The chicks would be dressed in the skimpiest, most provocative outfits imaginable! Shoot, they were dressed like whores! Come to think of it, they LOOKED like whores too, and I don't mean in terms of dress, either; I'm talking about that hardened, used up look so common in the modern, enlightened, empowered woman these days; guys call it 'the thousand cock stare'-how true it is. Uzem & Luzem calls modern women bad, amateur porn stars; judging by their dress & demeanor, I'm inclined to agree...

On a more serious note, there is a drug called Extasy. Entire TV programs have been done about Extasy! Guess what it's known as? They call it 'the club drug'-things that make you go hmmmm...

"Because you might get a shag," is the usual response. Really? If that's the only way you can find a partner - preening and jigging about like a desperate animal - you shouldn't be attempting to breed in the first place. What's your next trick? Inventing fire? People like you are going to spin civilisation into reverse. You're a moron, and so is that haircut you're trying to impress. Any offspring you eventually blast out should be drowned in a pan before they can do any harm. Or open any more nightclubs.

Ouch! Tell us how you REALLY feel, Mr. Brooker!

Even if you somehow avoid reproducing, isn't it a lot of hard work for very little reward? Seven hours hopping about in a hellish, reverberating bunker in exchange for sharing 64 febrile, panting pelvic thrusts with someone who'll snore and dribble into your pillow till 11 o'clock in the morning, before waking up beside you with their hair in a mess, blinking like a dizzy cat and smelling vaguely like a ham baguette? Really, why bother? Why not just stay at home punching yourself in the face? Invite a few friends round and make a night of it. It'll be more fun than a club.

Not to mention the fact that most females in the clubs' target demographics are CARRYING DISEASES! Seriously, gov't records show that a whopping 44.8% of women ages 20-24 have HPV; that's almost half, or ONE OUT OF EVERY TWO WOMEN YOU'LL MEET IN THE CLUBS! Almost half of the young women you see out on the street are carrying HPV, or human papiloma virus; that's the virus that causes genital warts, cervical cancer, nice ailments like that. BTW, they aren't CURABLE, either; once you have them, you have them for life! Can you imagine having a nasty disease like that for life, just for a screw? Even if you're successful in seducing a chick you met at the club, do you really want to 'do the deed' with her? I don't think I would; sex is good, but not so good that I want to die or get an incurable disease from it...

Anyway, back to Saturday night, and apart from the age gap, two other things stuck me. Firstly, everyone had clearly spent far too long perfecting their appearance. I used to feel intimidated by people like this; now I see them as walking insecurity beacons, slaves to the perceived judgment of others, trapped within a self- perpetuating circle of crushing status anxiety. I'd still secretly like to be them, of course, but at least these days I can temporarily erect a veneer of defensive, sneering superiority. I've progressed that far.

The second thing that struck me was frightening. They were all photographing themselves. In fact, that's all they seemed to be doing. Standing around in expensive clothes, snapping away with phones and cameras. One pose after another, as though they needed to prove their own existence, right there, in the moment. Crucially, this seemed to be the reason they were there in the first place. There was very little dancing. Just pouting and flashbulbs.

Surely this is a new development. Clubs have always been vapid and awful and boring and blah - but I can't remember clubbers documenting their every moment before. Not to this demented extent. It's not enough to pretend you're having fun in the club any more - you've got to pretend you're having fun in your Flickr gallery, and your friends' Flickr galleries. An unending exhibition in which a million terrified, try-too-hard imbeciles attempt to out-cool each other.

Mind you, since in about 20 years' time these same people will be standing waist-deep in skeletons, in an arid post-nuclear wasteland, clubbing each other to death in a fight for the last remaining glass of water, perhaps they're wise to enjoy these carefree moments while they last. Even if they're only pretending.

When I last went to a club (how long ago was it?), we didn't have the MEANS to take pics of ourselves. People would have done so if they could have; the only reason they didn't was because camera phones hadn't been INVENTED yet. All these have done is to reveal the attention whore lurking within. It's always been there, but it wasn't as readily apparent, due to the lack of technology that makes it possible.

Like I said, I couldn't add too much to that missive. Mr. Brooker hit that one out of the park...



P Ray said...

Reminds me of this saying from "The Simpsons"
Mr. Burns: Yeah, well, I've discovered the perfect business: people swarm in, empty their pockets, and scuttle off. Nothing can stop me now!

Unfortunately, the lie that people are being sold is that "good girls don't go to bars".

"Good" and "Bad" girls alike go to bars, churches, and funerals.

The only difference is that a woman treats a man(she is interested in) who has other things to do, well.

Whenever a woman complains about a guy, you can bet it's someone she still has an attraction to: women complain about men they're interested in,
they ignore the men who aren't useful/attractive to them.

Josh said...

charlie brooker has a lot of really good material on youtube. my favorite being a tv show on the bbc he did called "how tv ruined your life." it's a tv show explaining how tv shows suck, it's great. it's of course filled with a lot of tongue in cheek humor, but I especially found his episode about love to be extremely true.

he's a guy I can really relate to on a lot of other stuff as well, such as this article you posted. good find

Ping Jockey said...

I was always happier in a nice, cool, quiet library than I EVER was in a noisy, crowded, sweaty club or bar.

"When I was in the Navy...when I headed out on liberty, I headed the opposite direction the rest of the guys took. They went to the bars, while I went snorkeling, sightseeing, stuff like that. To me, that was more cost effective and a better use of my time..."

Ditto -- IN SPADES!!
I've been scuba diving off San Diego and in the Caribbean, been snorkeling in the Mediterranean, and have happy memories of visiting the Pyramids and The Temple of Luxor in Egypt, Venice and the ruins of Pompeii in Italy, The Topkapi Palace in Istanbul, Rhodes in Greece, and the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey...to name just a few.

Burton said...

Clubs mostly suck. But there are people who can thrive in them. For women, it's a paradise since they can act as sexually liberated as they want, but if a guy is foolish enough to respond, then she can go into her indignant act. And if she wants to have sex, she need only bend over and wait for the guys to stop lining up before picking out one.

PUAs can do well in clubs because they appear to understand the underlying dynamics. But even then, there are many games they have to play to get access to females.

I will note that I have had some positive experiences in various out of the mainstream clubs: punk, goth, etc. But there is (or at least was) a different dynamic. These were less pickup scenes and more about other stuff.

Mr. Burns: Yeah, well, I've discovered the perfect business: people swarm in, empty their pockets, and scuttle off. Nothing can stop me now!

One of my favorite lines!

Anonymous said...

I haven't been to the type of club you're talking about since Studio 54 was open and that's only because I knew one of the owners.I'm not sure but I think it was Steve who started this face control crap about who to let in. I've never liked clubs but I'm sure that today they have to be terrible for the most part. At least at 54 I'd be able to talk to people like Capote, Warhol or Margaux Hemmingway(deceased) who was my gf for a while before she got married.It was also easy picking up models who would sometimes go there. Let me just say something about Warhol. He really only wentout if he had to promote something having to do with his business.After he was shot by that crazy bitch he was a changed man and looked like he had post traumatic stress which I guess having a number of bullets pumped into you would explain. He generally stayed home at night in the townhouse he lived in with his mother and the only place he'd go was to Mass on Sunday.
Clubs would just be an annoyance especially at my age. But there are nice lounge type clubs or wine bars where the music is soft and the place comfortable. Something like this-http://brandylibrary.com/sections2007/gallery.htm

Anonymous said...

I remember reading this article a few years ago. Dead on. I also read an article awhile back, and it said that because of no smoking policies,all you smell in a nightclub is perfume and crotch sweat. Makes you want to stay home or go for a walk in a park.

Horsemachine said...

I would LOVE to read a Charlie Brooker column about MarkyMark's blog. Or indeed the Men's Rights movement in general.

But I suspect MarkyMark might be less keen.

Anonymous said...

I happened to see the following info and couldn't help but think of you MM. Your hero, Vinnie Dwagdogadino, is doing a "book" signing tour....

4/18/12 6:00 PM at Barnes & Noble - Warren Street. New York, NY.

4/19/12 7:30 PM at Barnes & Noble - Route 3 East. Clifton, NJ.

4/20/12 7:00 PM at Barnes & Noble - Richmond Avenue. Staten Island, NY.

4/24/12 7:00 PM at Bookmark Shoppe - ThirdAvenue. Brooklyn, NY.

4/25/12 7:00 PM at Books & Greetings- Livingston Street. Northvale, NJ.

4/27/12 7:00 PM at Book Revue - New York Avenue. Huntington, NY.

As usual, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about "good girls" and "bad girls" and church and virgins and HPV and "trying to score some chicks" and and and... in the above post and subsequent commentary LOL ;)

Love ya's

P Ray said...


Tom Leykis is back! So more men can know how to protect themselves from women on the make.

Anonymous said...

"Not to mention the fact that most females in the clubs' target demographics are CARRYING DISEASES!...that's almost half, or ONE OUT OF EVERY TWO WOMEN"

In all likelihood, both are infected with nasties because birds of a feather flock together wherever they are. Like attracts like, and people tend to associate with others of similar interests and lifestyles.

Whenever I see two females (especially "liberated," politically-correct AMERICAN females, ICK!), BOTH are most likely disease-ridden skanks even though statistically the number hovers around 50%. If one is infected with indescribable horrors, then her friend probably is too.

Why? Because she and her friend share similar thoughts, beliefs, and lifestyles that lead to acquiring such gross infections in the first place. (Otherwise, they would not want to be around each other.) It's kind of like tattoos. If one female has a tramp stamp, then so does her friend.

You can judge a female's character by who she chooses to hang out with and by her comportment. If one female is a skank, then her friend is also a skank by association, and if both are skanks, then both -- not just one out of two -- most likely have infections they are eager to spread.

Anonymous said...

Come to think of it, they LOOKED like whores too, and I don't mean in terms of dress, either; I'm talking about that hardened, used up look so common in the modern, enlightened, empowered woman these days; guys call it 'the thousand cock stare'-how true it is.

The age group for this "look" is always becoming younger.

We have all seen it. The "I've had a hard life" used up countenance. American school girls -- mostly late middle school and high school age -- are showing the jaded, "been there done that" stare more and more.

I recall seeing a female in a school class recently who looked like she was around 25 or 26 years of age -- complete with modern American chubbiness. To my surprise, she was only 16. And another female, who I thought must be 30 years of age due to her deep facial wrinkles, brash voice, and jaded "I-used-to-work-in-a-brothel" stare, was only 18. Shock!

Today's American school girls look much older than their years (in addition to being grossly overweight and unkempt in appearance). Most of them in their teenage years no longer display youth and femininity. (Imagine how old they will appear if they reach 30.) This is drastically different from 25 years ago.

Even more, judging from hearing them talk and observing how they behave, today's American public school kids (both male and female) are dumb as bricks and behave with the instincts of barnyard animals.

They might not be able to add fractions together, but, boy, do they have the Kama Sutra memorized!

No wonder the jaded, used-up look is so common -- even among 14-year-olds.

Anonymous said...

They might not be able to add fractions together, but, boy, do they have the Kama Sutra memorized!

I doubt that very much and even if they could read the Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana they'd either find it very boring or wouldn't really understand it.