The Absurdity of Scenes

July 18, 2008

Balls. For reasons we won’t get into here, I missed my flight to London, which not only means missing a bootcamp, but also means missing visiting several good friends there, then Monday, Tues and Weds night in Ibiza, which features a Tiesto, Sinclar, Morillo lineup (I can’t help it, I love house music) and the following weekend in Amsterdam. The only consolations are a.) my friend Pam has acquired tickets to an IMAX presentation of The Dark Knight on Sunday, and b.) I can focus on backoffice and infrastructure work for the next week.

This morning, a friend of mine turned me on to a blog he thought I’d enjoy called Good Night Mr. Lewis. Run by NYC nightlife impresario Steve Lewis, it features interviews and musings about, well, the NYC nightlife. If you ever wanted to know anything about the “high end” scene in New York, the site is great. From here, I discovered blogs such as Miss Model Behavior (fantastic – this girl is a charming writer), Guest of a Guest (self-impressed) and Down By the Hipster (also self-impressed, but they do give a shout out to Andrew W.K.).

Ever since I re-entered the “pickup community” last year with Master the Vibe (which, to be crystal clear, I’m no longer doing), the community people I’ve met have been impressed with my lifestyle here in NYC. Juggler once wrote that I was dating a girl who was so pretty that she scared him, sometime last year I acquired a reputation as a guy who only dates “10’s”, and there seems to be a perception that I spend my weeks partying with models and bottles. This is not only ridiculous, but untrue. Lauren was only imposing when she wore black miniskirts and more jewelry than Chingy. To the second point, I’ve dated some hotties, but also lots of girls who no one would consider “10’s”. And finally, I go out to two clubs regularly – Marquee on Tuesdays and Kiss and Fly on Fridays (David recently chronicled our adventures there). Judging by the standards of the NYC blogging consortia, I could probably be going to cooler places.

Now what’s funny about the NYC nightlife scene is how closely it parallels two other scenes I know decently. One is, of course, the pickup community (and as I write that, imagine a Sideshow Bob-esque groan going up my spine). The other is the punk rock scene, back from my years in high school, which is also rake-in-the-face-worthy (especially if it is the rake’s business end).

And more than any other scene to which I’ve ever born witness, the NYC nightlife scene is A-D-D-I-C-T-I-V-E. When I first arrived here, I was pulled in through some B-list promoters and felt like a baller, surrounded by attractive young women and dancing to music by some guy named DJ AM, who I later learned was famous and therefore, important.

Fair enough. There’s a reason that some people are popular and important. But the problem with scenes – any scene – is when the metadata confuses us and prevents us from accessing the real data. Check it out:

In the NYC club scene, the thing that brings most people in is that it feels fucking good to dance and get drunk around beautiful people. Back in high school, I enjoyed punk rock music for the music itself, too. And in the pickup community, you have information and instruction about how to become better with women. That’s the data.

All the commentary, posturing, social positioning, etc… that’s the metadata. The stuff that surrounds the core goodness. It is where identities and egos come together, form opinions, clash, comment, and obsess. Scene values are created out of thin air by people with strong opinions and personalities. And there’s surely entertainment value in following along with drama, trends, and the comings and goings of the scene’s elite.

But more insidiously, when we feel like we may be on our way “up” the social ladder in a scene, we’ll start to compromise our own values for those of the scene. To use a very concrete example, as I began to get pulled into the club scene, I found myself distancing myself from a solid, fantastic longtime friend who didn’t quite fit in. Lord knows I see guys doing this day in and day out in the pickup community.

Commanding a scene takes a lot of work. I see promoters in NYC battling over who does better parties and has better models, and man do these guys hustle; he who commands the scene also yields incredible social power. It is work to go out every night, make the rounds, see and be seen, and fit in. But when you can tell a girl that you can get into an exclusive spot like 1Oak any night of the week, its impressive.

ONLY, however, if both you and the girl hold that at high value. I remember when I used to go to girls and tell them about the party I was going to that night, and they’d try to match it and tell me about which party they were going to. It almost never helped bring me closer to the girl – I was a loser if my club wasn’t as exclusive as theirs, and I was an asshole if it was better. These days, when a girl throws her connections in my face, I cut to a new conversation thread. If she’s too hung up on her scene, she’s probably not a good fit for me anyway.

As this relates to the pickup community, it gets even worse. What is the value of being a “somebody” in the community? Presumably, you can make some cash off your good name. I have a friend who took a bootcamp recently with one of the top five puas in the world (again, ridiculous and arbitrary, and I won’t say which one) and it was total rubbish. Beyond being able to cash in… what’s the value? Being admired by some other guys on the Internet because you hook up with hot-ish girls?

Ultimately, its all kind of absurd. Scene obsession is great for the ego but bad for the, er… soul? Something like that. It doesn’t make us into better people. Understanding and playing with the social strata can be fun – like a little science experiment – as long as we’re not getting corrupted by it.

I try to keep my goals in mind, no matter where I am: have fun, surround myself with chill and authentic people, and give love wherever I can. Anytime I find myself working too hard to be a part of something with no real value to me, I have to stop and ask why. And wow, did it take a lot of jolts to the ego to get to this point.

But then you meet some great people who make it all worthwhile. And you have to give love where it is due. There are some gems out there…

And hey – fucked up as the club scene, the pickup community, and the punk rock scene are, they’re nothing compared to the grand daddy of all absurdity: the hip hop community. Tupac v. Biggie, Nas v. Jay-Z, Cam’ron v. the guy who shot him who he won’t snitch on…

I’m just hoping that none of my haters show up at my door with guns or, perhaps worse for a guy who supposedly dates “10’s”: fat chicks.

Posted by Christian | Filed Under Live The Good Life