Let’s reverse the spotlight.

Hi. I feel like we are not talking enough. You and me. I mean all of you. I could of course do this personally, however then I know about the cool stuff you do, but all the others don’t.

Imagine this: I know that someone who came to our stream or to a club we frequent does rocket science, or can be booked to be put on fire, or runs a charity, or does social work. So we all talk about it on livestream, and marvel at what a brilliant bunch you are.

Would you watch this?

It sucks.

Ok people. It sucks. Seriously. My social contacts since Faderhead left last week were:

  1. Jannis to hand him a weird holographic bag at his doorstep.
  2. The dude that sold me packs or ramen noodles.

Isolation is bad for me and I’m shit at being alone. Wednesday evening I was fuck done with everything and Thursday I was scatterbrained and unmotivated at (tele)work. The fact that I can’t even hang with my lover until this is all over makes me feel like putting the risk groups in a giant mixer and lick escalators, but this seems impolite and such.

So I feel like doing nothing at all, because everything is shit anyway, but guess what:

If I decide to do nothing, there is a 100% chance I will stay exactly as miserable as before.

So: I set up a twitch channel and so I will get myself intoxicated on twitch and learn about kopyright regulations. This time alone, for stupid reasons. Which is sad.

Which is why I again need to ask you for your support:

Since I’m alone I will integrate a zoom meeting into the stream. I need volunteers with apocalyptic outfits and awesome dance moves or at least a drink. Absolutely no toilet paper.

More in the evening,

-jl, straftanz.zk

Cool?

Sami and JL dancing uncool.

Hi. I don’t like people trying to be cool.

Being cool is about being unaffected, even untouchable. Yeah, it’s cool when shit can’t touch you, but guess what: most of the time it can, and then when you’re trying to be cool about it, you are just playing pretend. But then again, not trying to play this game, being touchable, vulnerable, giving a fuck on stuff, comes with risks. When you actually act like you realize that you and others in fact are vulnerable, you may feel the urge of taking action. And when you take action you might be wrong and make a fool of yourself. And even when you don’t, you are actually signaling that you are vulnerable to those cool kids that believe, there is actually someone who isn’t.

I don’t like people trying to be cool and I am not one of the cool kids. And the simplest exercise in not being cool is to be ridiculous. Once you exercise being ridiculous, it becomes easier to actually give a shit, to take the risk, to accept that you and others are vulnerable, but also that pretending you are not doesn’t help. Instead of pretending you will seek action, seek action more often, seek change, not just for you, but for others and the world you live in. And when you’re wrong you will know, in contrast to the cool kids, you did more than zero to protect what’s vulnerable.

Saturday evening I will conduct a little exercise in not being cool by being ridiculous. The current crisis dictates it and I want you to join.

Saturday night we will start our video stream on Facebook live, right here. Take care, take care of the others, especially those vulnerable and never be afraid to be ridiculous when trying your best. Stay safe, don’t be cool and join us:

Isolation Rave 1 21.03.2020. 2000CET.

jl, straftanz.zk

Riding a dead horse.

Stock photo of straftanz

“We’re too old for this shit.” These words of my valued brother and friend Lord Visconti appear cryptic and meaningless to me, especially in context of that rumor that the average restroom of any german goth festival is a geriatric facility, where no one is sure anymore whether catheters signify kinks or health issues. What does all of this even mean? Can we even live long enough to get old enough for that mythic restroom? How are we “still alive” when your favourite hobby-horse-project is dead? Shouldn’t this all be over? Isn’t it really time?

Two weeks ago Leighton James Thompson asked us whether the dead (that’s us) would play just one more show at Resistanz festival 2020. Our answer would have been “no, this project ended, please re-read our last communique”, but the prospect of a hotel room at Resistanz, booked in someones else’s name, a free flight, etc. seemed really really compelling and so we said yes. Yes, without really knowing whether we even can. We didn’t even blink.

When answering Leighton’s request something was suddenly clear: What is any given moment truly lived but the kept promise of doing it once more? One more track. One more breath. One more hit of the kick drum. One more time. One more drink. One more line? You are what you do and inevitably you do what you are. That’s why the “yes” came a tad too easy.
When focusing on the moment we learn that there is no place to go that’s demonstrably better than doing what you are. – So obviously the question of riding a dead horse is actually about the rider’s necrophilia.

Resistanz was about living this moment collectively and so Straftanz will return. One more time. Just to see what you perverts, regardless of age, are going to do with the dead horse that is us.

tldr; Straftanz is back for one more show at Resistanz. Just one. The decision to do that is both questionable and philosophical. It boils down to the question of riding a dead horse turning out to be not about the horse but about the rider’s necrophilia.