Raves always have names. Funny names sometimes. I’ve written about this before. What’s really funny, however, is when raves live up (or down) to their terrible names.

For example, in 1998 I went to a massive rave called “Funky Shit Happens.” Lemme tell ya: Funky shit DEFINITELY happened, including very few DJs playing, hours of sound problems, and a biker gang showing up collect on their loan to the promoters. It was an epic disaster on a huge level, with thousands of first hand witnesses. Funky Shit, indeed.

Last night there was a party in Seattle called “Apocolypse.” My cousin over on Bainbridge really really wanted to go, but wasn’t allowed to attend. This morning I started reading reviews about the event being a total nightmare, and I’m laughing to myself because come ON: What else is going to happen when you name your party after a cosmic cataclysm involving God and evil-doers?

I usually don’t get too woo-woo about manifesting energies, but when you name a big group event after something fucked up, you sorta get what you have coming.