July 21, 2006
Post-Party Post
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Yes, it's time for the post-party post. In case you weren't reading the site for the past month or so, we had a birthday party at local bar The Devil's Alley Tuesday night, and it was a blast. We had refreshing free drinks and tasty free food and gave away a bunch of prizes. Sound like fun? You should come to the next one! Anyway, we've got a bunch of photos from the event and we thought we'd take the opportunity to unveil one of the cool new features the tech guys set up for us: a slideshow! Check it out.
Btw, the winds blew, the heavens opened up, and a short and mighty storm crashed down on the city almost exactly as our party ended. We don't know if that was the Powers Above approving or condemning our little shindig, but seeing as how we were at The Devil's Alley, we fear it may have been the latter. Ah, well, Hell's got all the cool people anyway.
All photos by the staff
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Um, I don't even know where to begin. You kids make it that much easier for me to move. Oh well, good luck with what may very well be the sweat pants of all -ists.
Why am I the only one that leaves comments? You should really take not of that.
This is red-eye (or maybe not... hmmm):
We only live when we drink poison
Many of the people there had never even heard of Phillyist. I was nice enough not to mention the free drinks.
Spent most of the party chatting with a Mennonite from Toronto about Spinoza, Capitalism and Schizophrenia,
virtual reality (specifically, Robert Coover's work in Brown's virtual reality Cave), whether it matters that analytical philosophy is self-undermining, whether if there were an exact
replica of the earth with the sole exception that water has a different chemical make-up yet still looks tastes and macroscopically
acts just like water we would then call it water, qualia, and our posthuman future. The light shining out of the anus....
No one had a lighter. I think I shouted at the director of the Kelly Writers House "You're holding back our cyborg future!"
My shirt tore when I flexed. Really annoying.
Slowly the poison the whole blood stream fills;
It is not the effort nor the failure tires.
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
It is not your system or clear sight that mills
Down small to the consequence a life requires;
Slowly the poison the whole blood stream fills.
They bled an old dog dry yet the exchange rills
Of young dog blood gave but a month's desires.
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
It is the Chinese tombs and the slag hills
Usurp the soil, and not the soil retires.
Slowly the poison the whole blood stream fills.
Not to have fire is to be a skin that shrills.
The complete fire is death. From partial fires
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
It is the poems you have lost, the ills
From missing dates, at which the heart expires.
Slowly the poison the whole blood stream fills.
The waste remains, the waste remains and kills.
Rather, this is redeye:
Rather, this is redeye.
(are img tags supposed to work in these comments? are you afraid of pornographic spamages? or is it just malfunctioning?... hmmm)
Wow, John! The sweat pants of all -ists? So we're comfy and everybody either has us or wants us?
That might just be the best compliment ever. Thanks!
Sweatpants are like gym diapers.
I prefer to let it flow down to my socks. To bare my bulging, quivering calves as the hot wet (mostly scentless---it's primarily nervous sweat that stinks) transparency makes them shine.
I neither have, nor want to have, sweatpants.
Besides, shorts let me show off my scars.