One of the defining factors of “Rampages” is that they didn’t seem to take place in the bowling-alley pool-table section of the Rams’ Den. I don’t blame them for that, really. I can’t remember the last time I went there, even though it was such a selling point in that first tour of the buildings so long, long ago. I mean, what college student needs a pass to go bowling every week?
Then again, there’s never been much partying around here outside of the outskirt quarantine of the Town Run. That’s one of the things I do regret about choosing this place over something bigger. A party school might’ve made me miserable, but at least it would’ve been more hedonistic about it. Ending my teenaged years by being all contemplative strikes me now as a massively wasted opportunity.
That night was interesting to me because it was the first time I’d seen performers in the cafeteria section of Ram’s Den and not the ballroom, and I’d been expecting the same party music and strobelights as always. (The fact that they were giving out spaghetti and not nachos should’ve also set the mood.) And on the whole, they were both decent. I sat at the nearest open seat, and the other people at the table didn’t pay much mind to me, and I laughed when I felt it was earned and played with the garlic bread for the rest of the time.
Really, the hypnotist was the flashier part of the two, and he’d delayed coming on for some reason, maybe nerves. When he did, he used the same techniques as last year’s mind-controller, but got a wider audience reaction. I should mention I’ve done some research into hypnosis-culture, and I’ve decided stage-hypnotism doesn’t work (or seem to work) very well unless you get the audience extremely into it. Making a fool of people is one way to excite a crowd, but if you’re going to target a bunch of university kids the best path is sexuality - provocative dancing, a tame form of exhibitionism, a suggestion of power over the wants and likes of others, etc.
(Even the most preliminary look at hypnosis’ enthusiasts makes it obvious that fetishism goes hand-in-hand with it. And judging by the art in these communities, the technicolor snake-eyes of The Jungle Book VHS have affected a truly disturbing number of psyches.)
In the midst of all of it, one of the girls called up as entertainment for being so well-hypnotized was sent out with the rest to protect audience-members, and she sat down with her arms around me. At the speaker’s command she said something nice about me (I don’t remember what, only that it took her a minute and wasn’t very convincing), and then we pretended to be on a rollercoaster together before she departed to go do something else. I’m sure she developed a kind of half-fame from the rest of the performance, even if it only extended to the rest of that night. It takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there even with mind-control for an excuse, unless you really are that susceptible.
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