New York, 1983

“For a time it was the spot, a phototropic draw to every dappled semi-entity and mecurochrome-swigging hotsy-totsy; the atmosphere by turns keen, bitter, brittle and plangent seemed to reflect a deep-seated awareness that from here on in no awarenesses would be deep-seated but would pull up a chair at the banquet of life with hairy haunches; the sound was an erratic mixture of rhythm, silence, and a pullulation that seemed to be an irritating mixture of the worst qualities of harmony and discord: the myriad scenes that made up the unconscious of the city’s dream-life were played out every time two people shared a glance, a moment, a word, a touch, as if each of these (glance,moment,word and touch) shattered under the impact of the city’s own investigation into itself into a dust of auto-reflective fragments which viewed from the one distance seemed a gibbering ape-face intent on copulation and from another distance an angel from the book of Enoch who looked upon apocalypse as a throw of dice forged from the skeleton of a pharaonic Hermes and from another distance as a mirror reflecting a desire to know not what the next moment would bring but what might transpire before that.”

— Tabitha Wolpe, “Famous People I have Known”, Hello New York magazine, v.1, issue 1, 1983.


One thought on “New York, 1983

  1. Mikey says:

    This reminds me of that scene in Swingers when they’re trying to find the most hidden club in LA, and they’re always going ‘This place is dead anyway man.’ I guess there’s a good chance I haven’t remembered the scene exactly right.

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