An angry man told me he was going to assault me with a crucifix. I wasn't worried - it was an idol threat. 19/5/2013 - 12:59pm
Believe it or not, some people actually complain that I don't write enough blogs. Whilst I secretly allow this moaning to massage my damaged and frail ego, I am outwardly dismissive. Truth be told, the creative centre of my brain is a desolate place, fleetingly populated by an occasional derivative or plagiarised idea, which is in turn reliant on my incredibly lazy nature to transcribe it into some sort of coherent text.
This is a sorry state of affairs. I am essentially committing an intellectual crime by depriving the world of my considerable and valuable insight. To remediate this failure I have decided to dedicate part of my site to a kind-of public service. I intend to provide objective, balanced and well-thought out opinions on places I have been and things I have experienced, with a view to bettering people's lives by allowing them to make informed judgements. The first of my Objective Reviews focuses on Infernos Nightclub in Clapham, South London.
Infernos Nightclub in Clapham is almost certainly one of Dante's circles of hell. I wasn't in there long enough to work out which one, although, to be fair, the name of the place is a dead giveaway. The word 'inferno' surely conjures images of a towering blaze from which there is no escape and death is merely a matter of choosing between burning or suffocation. Quite why anyone would wish to associate such an image with a venue supposedly designed for enjoyment escapes me. But then again, I don't think I'm in the target market.
In the interests of full disclosure, it should be known (and has probably been guessed) that I am not always the biggest fan of nightclubs. They are dark, dingy and loud places and about as much fun as being trapped down a well with a ghetto blaster blaring out hours of Kanye West music for days on end. In spite of this, I will happily visit a club provided I have consumed a suitable catalyst (alcohol). However, no amount of alcohol could have possibly persuaded me that Infernos is an enjoyable place to be. If I'd died from an alcohol overdose and my lifeless corpse had been dumped inside and dragged around I'd still have found a way to actively detest it.
There is nothing for a conscious, self-aware being to like about Infernos. The sticky floors, tacky decor and general air of soullessness should set alarm bells ringing in even the most idiotic brain. But the true hell of Infernos is revealed in its clientele. Never before in my short and insignificant life have I witnessed such a sprawling mass of complete and utter cunts. To describe them as people would be laughably generous. Surely they are of a separate species; a distant evolutionary relative of humans which palaeontologists long believed to be extinct.
But they are not extinct. They are alive, and they are procreating. Or at least attempting to. Their mating rituals are unsubtle and unsophisticated. After forming a thronging hive of flesh on one of the two huge yet inexplicably overcrowded dance floors, the males stalk out a suitably attractive or inebriated companion, strutting through the crowd, their cocksure swaggers punctuated by sips of disgusting bottled lager. For their part, the females flaunt their wares through the medium of spastic hip gyration, devoid of rhythm or grace. The floors are awash with a unique ooze; two parts sweat, one part hair gel and one part fake tan. When the lights come on at the end of the night, those who have successfully paired up find themselves either disappointed with their companions or too pissed to care. Either way, they spill out onto the streets and return to their dwellings to have rubbish sex.
Of course, no objective review could truly be objective without including some pointless vox pops from random people on the Internet. So here is a selection of some of the things the good users of qype.co.uk and viewlondon.co.uk have to say about Infernos:
The last comment is obviously someone trying to be amusing. But don't let that realisation dilute your horror of the place, for out there in the bowels of South London, there are thousands of beings who genuinely have that opinion. They're just too stupid to be able to type it out and put it on the Internet.
To juxtapose the overwhelming negativity of this Objective Review, I've striven to find something positive to say about Infernos. And it is thus: if you want a front-row seat to the complete collapse of humanity, framed within the context of an anarchic, alcohol-fuelled sex zoo, Infernos is well worth the price of admission. I'd heartily recommend it to anyone who is scared that the human race will be destroyed by a nuclear bomb or flu pandemic. Infernos will provide them with a terrifying preview to the truly impending armageddon.
In summary, then. You know that scene in Event Horizon where they view the ship's logs and see flashes of a deranged hell, replete with gruesome images of bodily mutilation and disgusting, disfigured people performing acts of abhorrent carnal viciousness? Well, Infernos is like that. Except with a ten pound entrance fee and overpriced drinks.
My next Objective Review will focus on the Israel-Palestine conflict.
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