Unscene Berlin

Daily Stormer discussion circa 2016 Rotten to the Grassroots Twenty-sixteen was probably the worst year for online hate speech to date: a year when a loose network of neo-fascist trolls known as the Alt Right finally managed to overwhelm many online discussion platforms in the West, after years of trying. Posing as members of an outraged, but otherwise ordinary public, these trolls flooded Facebook, Twitter, and many major news websites with hateful posts like the ones above. It seemed clear that they were striving to mould a new popular consensus of contempt for minorities everywhere... and by extension, a consensus of contempt for any social justice movement that stood in their way.  And, to a degree, they succeeded in altering the public's perceptions about everything from the new Star Wars movie, to the Brexit, to Hilary Clinton’s state of health, not to mention the election campaign of President Trump.  Maybe it would be more correct to call their...

I could feel that something wasn't right.  Even though it was a crowded dancefloor, someone was bumping into me a little too regularly in time with the music, as if they were mirroring my moves. But I still wasn't prepared for what I saw when I turned my head: a little troll of a man, grinding his pelvis as close to my ass as he could get without committing an assault. But actually, he had already crossed that line a few times; it was just that the intentional nature of that assault had been camouflaged by the general mayhem happening around us. The smarmy expression on his face made it pretty clear that this wasn't just an accident, though, as did the fact that he didn't back away once he was caught - not until I 'assisted' him with a sharp shove and the suggestion to stay well the fuck away. He vanished, and I thought the message had been received.  But then, a few minutes later and just a few feet away, I saw him rubbing up against yet another woman in...

This week Unsceneberlin is partying in Ibiza, but the podium dancers there don't seem to be having as much fun... Add caption On Amnesia: love the club.  On Cream, loved the music.  But one comment I heard over and over again was, "What's up with those podium dancers?  Why aren't they actually dancing?"  The 34-22-34 sized women that you see standing around on their podiums are so tightly bound by the 'ideal' male fantasy gear that they probably can't breathe, let alone move with anything like the freedom of an actual dancer. Yes, even the men I spoke to were less than enthusiastic about them.  In fact, it was most often a guy who turned to me and wondered loudly why those women were even up there - they were obviously not into the music. How could they be, when they reputedly earn about 45 Euros a night for working in one of the world's most famous clubs, on one of the world's most expensive party islands? There was a time when go-go...

...but does it love me? I went to an underground techno party a while back.  There were a lot of guys there.  Guys playing great music, guys working on the door, guys hanging out by the decks and bar and even guys dancing.   I wanted to dance too, but I had a problem focusing on the music because I was distracted by the dance floor's only decoration: an inflatable sex doll hanging by her neck with her wrists tied behind her back.   At the majority of underground techno parties I've been to, decor was of the bring-your-own variety; whatever was there represented the views of people in the crowd.   After a few tracks, I decided that I didn't like the view represented by whoever had  brought this inflatable murder victim.   Their view seemed to be, “Violence against women is a sort-of sexy joke”.   Maybe a very angry man would agree that it is, but most women would not.  They would tell you that a cloud of potential violence already hangs ...

I am afraid that Club Alien has no review for you this week. Here is the story of how that happened - or rather, didn't happen. Last Saturday, after going to the Alte Fleischfabrik and finding that it was once again closed at the last minute, the Alien set out to review Kater Holzig instead. Brandishing a bottle of wine she had stolen from a birthday party earlier, she followed (or was it ‘led’?) a group of merrymakers down the Spree to Koepenicker Strasse. Once inside the club, she held her camera up a few times but, being that she was unable to make the double-vision go away for long enough to focus her camera, she gave up and focused on getting more drinks, instead.  Because quite clearly, she wasn't drunk enough, yet...