Concert pacifists passing fists
Not until recently did I realize the extremes that people go to identify with their friends and find common allies at a rock concert in mosh pits or even in a simple skank circle.
This archived article was written by: Zak Konakis
Not until recently did I realize the extremes that people go to identify with their friends and find common allies at a rock concert in mosh pits or even in a simple skank circle.
Mosh pits are circular in nature, where concert goers punch, push and even bite to the aggression of the music. No one really knows why they mosh or how, even. It’s like discovering the meaning of the locks on the doors of Denny’s when they’re open 24 hours a day and even on holidays. I didn’t realize that this was taking place, until a few members of CEU’s baseball team during the Midnight to Twelve show showed up, dressed in white bandannas which didn’t strike me as odd until the forbidden mosh pit was opened in the middle of the crowd, The team was safe from the tyranny of anyone trying to break it up, for a few songs, at least. Once the pit was opened and bumping, crashing and the occasional elbow was felt; that I realized something odd: the kids in white bandannas were watching out for each other, and by watching out for each other, I mean that one was standing on the outside watching for someone without a white bandanna to step in and run straight for the person.
I understood it completely and Social Darwinism was alive and well, rearing its ugly elitist face, even in a pit where the South would smile and shed a tear to pay homage to our very own baseball players for their mid-floor segregation efforts. Once realizing the power that these bandannas possessed (like a star and train car), I had to keep putting it to the test watching one after another of the high school kids that found their way into the concert, falling face first to the floor at the mercy of the matching thugs (scheduled next week to appear in matching sailor uniforms and riding on tandem bikes for a sense of team togetherness.)
I was compelled to see if this practice was more widespread than just the genius of the tacticians that we humbly call some of the members of CEU’s baseball team. I found that concert gangs were not just something out of a Stanley Kubrick movie, but actually a Clockwork of menacing kids all dressed the same was common place. From the Danny Zuko look-alikes to the down right grungy looking “Edger” kids that many of my friends have a history with.
First, the “Greasers:” real life, I have more oil in my hair than the Saudi’s pump in an hour, caught in the 50’s mentality, complete with big blue comb in back pockets to fix the carapace that is called hair every time I’m pushed out of the pit. Nearly comical with T-birds-style leather jackets complete with a white tank top underneath, and accessorized with reflective aviators. I would call these kids the Barack Obama of moshing: most don’t know or care what they stand for, they only care that they are there for the spectacle.
Second, the “StraightxEdgers:” the I don’t smoke, drink, or fight my own fights because I am collectively 110 pounds with heavy chains, misfits, leather jackets and some form of metal chrome studs whether on the jacket, belt, gloves. or shoes. They always carry the self-satisfied “holier than thou” smirk of intolerance when it comes to anyone that has any form of backbone or does not partake in the lifestyle they do. Not surviving alone, they feed off their friends. Much like Hilary Clinton: most do not care for her, and as her own candidate she fails, and is widely hated for a communistic outlook on censorship of media, but she’s still Bill Clinton’s and that somehow makes her superior.
Third, “The Happy Ska Kids:” nobody really knows how they ended up at the concert. It’s like they got lost on their way to prom with their slacks, suspenders and button up shirts, or a skirts for the girls. They have come to dance or mosh, but they’re the kids that get knocked down, four of them are crowded around to help up ,like they’re earning a moshing merit badge. Almost crossing the line of too nice, they’d make the Pope scowl and call them freaks with their happiness and excitement for whatever show they’re watching. Nobody really pays attention to them much like Rudy Giuliani … it’s because he’s republican, though.
Next time you’re at a concert and you see a pit, watch for these gangs and remember: they’re not just fighting they’re fighting for justice.
