Madagascar Institute-Drive-by Arting, October 2001

Ah, after the very successful Lost Vegas party, the Madagascar Institute decided to kick back a little and bask in the ArtStar glow, perusing the fan mail and requests to be added to the list, and maybe check out some Brooklyn arts festivals. Ohh- DUMBO- big space here, big space there, hey that art isn't that bad, lots of people milling around, enjoying one of those crisp clear October nights where there is just enough of an edge to the air to make heated conversation all the more enjoyable, everyone dressed up and looking good, and hey- is that an ice cream truck? How edgy, how cute- ice cream sandwiches- what an amusing tweak on conventional ... wait a minute, who are these people- this doesn't look quite right..

HOLY SHIT! (WHOOMP WHOOMP WHOOP) [and the good kind of whoomp whoomp, the kind that no soundsystem, however expensive, will ever get- the kind of whoops that can only be caused by a jet of highly pressurized gas detonating right fucking in front of you, the kind of whoomp you feel rather than hear, and the heat, and the light, and your lungs compressing from the shock wave] Did you see those flames? Fireballs pumping to a beat shooting forty feet into the air and no one expected this and ohmygod this is fucking great and everyone patiently waiting on line for a big loft party is standing there with their mouths wide open, all staring at the same thing (and no matter how great the party is it will suck royally in comparison to this, this thing) and there is chaos but at the center of the chaos there is a core of people with hearing protectors scurrying around, and they are moving like they are doing a formal dance in the eye of the hurricane- one is playing these beats from a sequencer three feet from the flames, three others are running the cannons, there is a guy behind the wheel, steady, and others are in the crowd but are not of the crowd, scanning the street and the truck and ready to take care of business if anything goes wrong, so that efficient core of calm is running the whole show and before you really know what is going on and realize you are screaming your guts out from sheer joy it is over and the truck is gone and everyone has melted into the crowd and it is over.

Who WERE those people? Guess. It is fall, and it is wonderful, and the Madagascar Institute does not have time to rest.