The Civil War of Los Angeles (655 hits)
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Submitted by The Nick <nickuhlig.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-06-24 16:24:24 EDT
Being an insanely popular rock musician can have unexpected benefits. I should know. A little more than four years ago I played the final rock concert the world ever saw, and was able to take over an entire city with a population of more than fifteen million people.
I can still remember everything that happened that day. For legal reasons I shall not mention any names.
My earliest clear memory of the concert was about an hour before we got on stage. The warm-up band was going its work as we four say behind the stage taking turns sipping from a bottle of Jack Daniels and smoking the shisha.
"Hey," said the Guitarist as he let out a thick curl of smoke, "what's the routine today? I mean, this is without a doubt the biggest gig on the tour. We gotta do something a bit special. Not every day you play for seventy thousand people."
The Drummer spoke up. "Fuck off, you're just angling for another one of those eight-minute solos you pulled on the last two gigs. Nothing like that's gonna happen today. If anything, I'm due for a solo."
"No-one likes drum solos except for drummers, so shut up," retorted the guitarist. "Wha'd'you think?" he said as he gestured with the shisha hose at the Bassist.
"I dunno. Why not both? Shorten the solos, and you can both fit them in. Why don't we stick them into song 8, that long one everyone seems to like?"
Both nodded their concurrence and then looked at me. "I suppose it's ok. But at the end I get to do one of those work-up things to get them all frothy before the breakout at the end."
And that was it. By making this decision we headed ourselves down a path we could never return from.
I can't remember most of the concert up until the climax, because that happens to me and a lot of people: when you see a concert, or read a book, or see a movie for the first time, you find yourself forgetting it as soon as it ends. But the climax of the concert, which turned out to be the end, I remember very clearly.
As it turned out, the drum solo came first, so after the second solo the crowd was already pretty worked up. As I looked out at the sea of seventy thousand bobbing heads and one hundred and forty thousand waving hands, lighters, homemade posters, and t-shirts supporting my band, I got that feeling that only a person in my position could get. The feeling that if I said, "jump" the response would be "how high". The feeling that the crowd was no longer in control of itself, but solely under the power of my mind. The feeling of absolute power.
And as they say, absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Knowing that the audience would likely be comprised of a male majority, I pointed at two girls near the front row that caught my eye, and signalled them to come up to the front of the stage.
"All right, everyone. We're gonna take a little break right now, and I'm going to introduce a couple of ladies who made it to the concert tonight." I asked them for their names and they screamed them into the microphone. "Say," I said, "Would you girls be willing to take off your tops for the sake of this concert?" Then I turned to the crowd and yelled, "WHE WANTS TO SEE SOME TITS??" They went nuts, and the girls promptly de-shirted.
The first test was complete.
Next came the scream test. I divided the stadium into three sections and told them to scream as loudly as they could alternately. The noise was deafening.
After that the jumping test. I said the word, and they did it. Within seconds seventy thousand bodies were bouncing on the spot upon my command, to the beat of our drums.
Then the motion test. Like Moses, I pressed my hands together in front of me and then slowly parted them until my hands were shoulder width apart. Without a pause my pathway formed in the void left by the parting masses. But that wasn't enough. It was too late to turn back now. I took my next step, and shouted into the microphone, "What, you don't think I'm willing to walk on that nasty-ass ground, do you? There's probably Coke and weed and sweat and garbage all over the place. Lay down on the ground so I have a proper path!"
They hesitated, but after the first few willing laid themselves down in front of me, hundreds more complied. And so I walked out into the middle of the stadium and stood on the backs of my followers. It was at that moment that I knew: they were in the palm of my hand and would do anything I told them. I knew this without a doubt, but I wasn't sure they did, so I verified it for them.
"Are you folks all having a good time?" They roared in approval, even those whose backs I was standing on. "You've been a pretty good audience tonight, but I think you can do better. Can you do better?" The stadium exploded with their cheers. "Are you willing to go all the way?" They were practically frothing at the mouth, and I was amazed at how their voices hadn't gone hoarse. The time had come for the final words. I raised my microphone to my mouth and said, "Then I want destruction. I want you to fight, kill, burn, and destroy. I want you to fight each other. I want you to burn this stadium. I want you to explode out of this fucking building, and show this town what the fuck we're made of! NOW FUCKIN' GO!"
I said "jump", and they said "how high".
Within twenty minutes the stadium exits and lobby were in ruins, bodies of the trampled lying in doorways and on the sidewalks as people holding in their hands whatever weapons they could find streamed past, not giving heed to the puddles of blood making the floor slick and the carpets soggy. Several hours after wards the entire city district was aflame, police sirens were everywhere, and the scent of bloodlust and just plain blood were thick enough to make you vomit.
The riot was the largest in history, and lasted for over six days and nights. Spreading like a disease, the original concert-going rioters (plus all the incited at-home TV watchers) infected the regular citizens and propagated wave after wave of bloodthirsty denizens. At its peak the riot was comprised of more than four hundred and fifty thousand people. All but remote areas of the city were left untouched. Everything within a three-mile radius was destroyed beyond recognition.
Of course I saw most of this on the news. Our helicopter flew us off just a little after the half-hour mark, and I saw only the beginnings of what would later be called the Civil War of Los Angeles.
Needless to say, that was the end of my career, and the careers of my band mates. We now live under assumed names, scattered to different corners of the world. We keep in touch, but mostly keep on the lowdown. To this day, the tabloids and paparazzi magazines run stories about us, and they've even made a few documentaries about the "concert to end all concerts", although I must say that they're nowhere near as good as the real thing.
I still ask myself if it was worth it; if it was actually better to burn out (or rather explode in a fiery eruption of cataclysmic doom) than to fade away. But every time I ask myself that I know deep down that I'm kidding myself. Besides, I never was one for "best of" compilations anyway.
User Reviews
Submitted by Bornloser (user info) at 2005-06-24 18:53:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Sounds like you have accomplished what Stewart Griffin has been trying to complete for years. Kudos for that.
Submitted by lucid (user info) at 2005-06-24 18:51:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Did the drummer spontaneously combust?
Submitted by jack11058 (user info) at 2005-06-24 17:30:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
not bad
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:58:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
California Penal Code
404.6. (a) Every person who with the intent to cause a riot does an
act or engages in conduct that urges a riot, or urges others to
commit acts of force or violence, or the burning or destroying of
property, and at a time and place and under circumstances that
produce a clear and present and immediate danger of acts of force or
violence or the burning or destroying of property, is guilty of
incitement to riot.
(b) Incitement to riot is punishable by a fine not exceeding one
thousand dollars ($1,000), or by imprisonment in a county jail not
exceeding one year, or by both that fine and imprisonment.
(c) Every person who incites any riot in the state prison or a
county jail that results in serious bodily injury, shall be punished
by either imprisonment in a county jail for not more than one year,
or imprisonment in the state prison.
(d) The existence of any fact that would bring a person under
subdivision (c) shall be alleged in the complaint, information, or
indictment and either admitted by the defendant in open court, or
found to be true by the jury trying the issue of guilt, by the court
where guilt is established by a plea of guilty or nolo contendere, or
by trial by the court sitting without a jury.
Submitted by yermom (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:52:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was pretty cool.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:26:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Burn out! Burn out!