surprisingly ended up rubbing shoulders with some brooklyn culture mafia last night, i was at an ambient thing in some sort of weird flat that someone has turned into a DIY style venue, and elsewhere in the flat the dude who wrote the Dimes Square play was doing a play. the crowd for the ambient thing was the usual bunch of weirdos you get at that kind of thing, thirty people lying on cushions with their eyes closed, some lady in her 50s dancing to beatless noise, a lot of pscyhedelics going on - they have a set of klipshorns, that does make a difference - but i thought the crowd for the play (the two met in the communal kitchen, which also served as a bar) was awkward. the playwight walked through the kitchen talking about his plays, a printed edition of his Dimes Square play was on sale for $25
i don't think i'd want to be a part of it to be honest, not that i'd get the choice