Remember raves? You know, a bunch of sweaty kids sucking on glow sticks and jerking spasmodically to the latest Fatboy Slim twelve inch? (It's a testament to E that there was a drug powerful enough to make this tolerable.) But raves are no longer fashionable, and yet the Chemical Brothers continue to release albums.
What about flash mobs? Remember those? That was something born out of the early days of text messaging when some dumbass got it into his or her head that they could con a thousand people to show up at Quizno's or Glamour Shots or the Monterey Bay Aquarium all at once just by using a cell phone. It was pretty damn stupid, in retrospect, but so was techno music and rave culture. Live and learn.
Not that this stopped a group of English teens (who've apparently laid their knives down just long enough to shake their pasty white groove thangs) from descending en masse to a local Ikea for an impromptu rave near the woodchip endtables. And why? Because they're idiots, obviously. Oh, and the site used to house a discotheque.
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