eye principle

This is what I call a helping hand.

A long time ago, I thought I didn't like Justice. In fact, I avoided any intimate space where I'd hear the echoing cries "WE- Are- YOUR- FRIENDS"-yaddah-yaddah. Then, D.A.N.C.E suddenly hit the airwaves (or netwaves, what have you) and I officially pumped my proverbial fist in the air, fervently denying any Justice tolerance in my car, ipod, Saturday nights. Then a trip to the Bay came along and my boo Paul convinced me to drop by a "happenin" concert at the Mezzannine where the aforementioned band was doin its thang-thang. Being the bullheaded brat I am, I writhed in pain, kicking and screaming my way into NOT going, only to be won over by Paul's promise of immediate arrival and an even speedier departure. We were met with door issues (like, not getting in) and a slight drizzle that to me at the time, felt like a thunderstorm. And did I forget to mention that I was much too sober? With not a sip of brew in me, I think I was the crabbiest concert-goer that night, and quite possibly the most annoying human being ever. Suffice to say, that concert experience soured quickly for me, and especially for Paul.

Fast forward one year and I am suddenly at crossroads with la musica de Justice yet again. On one hand, I vaguely remember a pretty decent DJ set at the Mezzanine. On the other, the soul-sucking sound of what appears to be a children's choir singing "WE- ARE- YOUR- FRIENDS..." has got my head spinning (the kind where you really want to throw up after). But there was this party (and so it starts-) and Justice was spinning at it. With my friend Sascha in tow, I go.




The party was fun, thanks to good company. But the most unexpected of all happened. The French duo spun and I was blown away! Their set qualified as one of the best I've seen–their music selection was diverse. As a person conditioned to hate and criticize, I really really tried to. But with one hand in the air and my feet doing weird things, I knew that game recognized game. After all, they made me dance and not writhe! I didn't even mind the oafish man wearing a big sweaty coat who rudely slipped in front of my view. I was pretty happy. (Oh, I did have a beer then- I guess that helped too)