From what we know in that short period of time that separates us from the Renaissance, it happened more or less 50 times to encounter the Rat King, a real tangle of bodies, usually of Rattus rattus, imprisoned among them by the tails. A fatal embrace capable of creating a new, unique, shape and perhaps new state of consciousness.

On 26 September 1983, in a nuclear bunker near Moscow, a very worthy soldier of the Red Army (Lieutenant Petrov) decides that Oko, the Soviet control satellite system, do wrong. Those five fast-approaching American thermonuclear missiles are just ghosts generated by the fantasy of a computer in paranoia.
In the same year, Dan Graham publishes: “Minor Threat” the work he made a few months earlier by filming the hardcore group from Washington live at the CBGB, probable keystone of his research on music that will soon lead him to synthesize that masterpiece which is: “Rock my religion”.
At the same time we can imagine Rick Veitch working on the boards that they would compose: “The One”, published between 1985 and 1986, a comic that more than any other has been able to tell how the cold war and the atomic fear, settling in our souls, managed to create some positive thrust in the mass subconscious so much that, for now, we are still here writing, or reading, these lines.

The slam dance / the moshpit / the pogo and in general that way of dancing fighting or clashing that began in the second half of the seventies tells of a kind of brotherhood among equals, those peers that for many centuries have been cannon fodder, meat for factory and cows for reproduction and that at some point have been able to protect themselves, defending each other.

The apocalypse, for one reason or another, is here among us, but every night, somewhere on the planet, there is a place where someone plays and someone else does slam dance, turning all those bodies into a unique conscience surely better than the single ones that compose it and probably saving us from the end.