the_angelus deejaying, brilliantly of course, and the mad genius docwebster uplinking a live shoutcast of the whole shebang; with the holy and relentless maxomai doing the news, as only he can.
You know how Illuminati parties go, natcherly. fetishpunk is reading out one of his astonishing stories ( http://www.coldandalone.com ), while the omnitalented agent139 has a silent colloquy with agent777, by gazing soulfully into a polished surface. Lovely world traveler musickal quietly sprinkles confetti, waiting her turn to share her amazing poems. And speaking of poets, the enigmatic williamd appears to be writing one about Charlie D's party itself, good news if so, can't wait to see it. :)
Leave it to all-wise Lodge Master magdalena_lvx to spot trouble before it gets too far along, and know how to handle it: "ajrose93," she sez, "we're needed," and so we are: isomeme is trying to explain to Charlie -- politely, but firmly, like always -- that, No, thank you very much anyway, but his daughter really doesn't want to have Charlie photograph her, maybe another time. But you know Charlie, and he is the Birthday Boy. So entropy156 -- who I suspect is only too happy for the distraction, since everyone keeps asking him if he's made up as one of the Blue Man Group, when it's just that turquoise goop from his effin 'sploded bicycle -- joins me, good cop 'n' bad cop, in pacifying the slightly weefy Charlie before it all gets out of hand.
Oh, and speaking of makeup, the beautiful makeupgrrl13, hiding her magical light behind the skills of her day job, is painting ledasgirl to look (even more) like a tigress, which is just so fabulously cool.
Then, admit it, around the fifth (or is it the twenty-third?) hour, it all gets a little crazy. That spooky goddess sal93 (just possibly slightly in her cups) lies in wait for Derby Doll and initiate redjenn93 (stone cold sober, though she hides it well), to smack her on that (let's face it, irresistible) ass as she skates by, hunkered down and brooking no opposition; predictably she just grins, and takes it in her stride. Meanwhile, the love of my life, senryu, is floating in midair in Dark Senryu mode, skintight scarlet costume, golden sash and all: big evul grin, eyes black as night, energy coruscating about her lithe and elegant form. Good thing she married me already, or I'd have to ask her all over again. And OMG kar3ning! -- mild enough several hours ago, when she was concentrated on her design work (the posters are perfect, of course), she's started a one-woman mosh pit on the table, boots 'n' all, preaching Dance & Revolution in equal measure; Emma G would be proud, man, I mean it.
And the whole thing brings tears to my eyes, it does. I'm not ashamed to admit that.
By the end of that magical twenty-four, Charlie's all better, and we're focusing on music. davmhl is performing some high-power riffs, accompanied on the flute by solri (the latter trying to downplay his concerns over the metanarrative, though one dares to hope he'll expand upon them in due time). And I whisper, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, you old sonofagun, admit it: this is the best birthday party you ever had.
And at the last, when it's back to spinning tunes, I'm the one getting weefy: in fact, when intralimina finally drops that cool wallflower facade and launches into a thorough explanation of the complex math behind the Psychedelic Furs song we're hearing, I plain burst into tears, because it's all just so perfect. I'm trying to pay attention to the Dormouse, that mofo, and to avoid showering anybody with kisses, but moments there are when it's all Just Exactly Right, you know? And --
God, I love that cut -- the Furs were so breathtaking, I wish everyone could be hearing it right now. Which the hell song is that, anyway?, I know it's on Mirror Moves....