A couple weeks ago in Austin I crowdsurfed. It’s been years since I did that. I kind of thought my stagediving days were over, but in the moment it somehow seemed like the right thing to do. I leaned out face forward and the crowd delivered me to the other side of the room. Halfway across I heard a guy go, “Awwwwriiiight!!!!” as though he were about to bite into an awesome hotdog, and then he lifted up his hand and aimed it straight onto my boob. As I passed over him I said, “oh, come on.” This statement was an abbreviation for a more complicated statement. I was trying to say something to the effect of, “You don’t understand, dude: you are touching my body right now because you are one drop in a body of water, and I am swimming in the water. Your hand isn’t a hand, it is a part of the surface of the water and I am riding across it. I’m not naive enough to think that I can control water, I know that it could hurt me. But it would have to be done in a movement by the whole group, and your one little hand doesn’t appear to be leading the others.”

July 22, 2011

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