Commence Armada @ The Irving 

My girlfriend's little brother (AKA the stud pictured above) is probably the coolest kid I know.  He and his band, Commence Armada, play shows all over the Central-Indiana area and would be categorized as "Pop-Punk."  The shows he plays consist of his band, as well as others, that play other sub-genres of Rock N' Roll such as Death Metal, Punk, Metal-core, Beard-core as well as many, many others.  Although I have little appreciation or interest in any of these genres, their live performances are a Hell of a good time.  The shows themselves take place in seedy locations in decrepit venues like old movie theaters and other buildings with spaces the size of my living room.  In almost every venue, the walls have been painted a deep black that reminds me of space or the back of my eyelids.  Couches older than Justin Beiber line the walls and the bathrooms are filled with copious amounts of graffiti and filth.    Outside of the venue fifteen year old 'scene' girls line the street, bumming cigarettes off of strangers and fondling their ear-lobe plugs.  Inside, restless teenagers wait for the band to finish setting up their amps and rigs of equipment.  Right before the show begins, the band warms up with a sound check of thier microphones and equipment.  These shows consist of the voluntary (and sometimes involuntary) participation in a mosh pit.  "Moshing," or "Pitting" as the kids call it, is the action and dance that requires the actors to both flail their extremities in all directions, hoping to land a blow upon another actor's cranium or vital organ, whilst smashing into each other like pissed off big-horned rams.  Now, before any judgement can be placed upon this type of dance, one must consider the frame that this genre and performance falls under.  In the world of all things Metal, moshing is a key aspect of performances.  Inside the pit, there are no rules..... Alright there are some rules, but you get the picture.  The pit is a lawless and dangerous place that should be approached with caution.  If you would rather just relax and enjoy the performance and have no plans of getting a nosebleed, please keep your distance.  If you do decide to enter the pit, you are essentially complying to an "inherit risk" contract and the liability falls upon yourself.  In other words, you can't get upset with a fellow mosher when you get an elbow to your nose upon entering the pit.  When the band strikes up and begins to play, the room fills with electricity as moshers crash and collide like bowling balls to pins.  The vocalists' voice resembled a pig squealing as it was being decapitated.  The guitars resembled the sound of the chainsaw being used to cut off the hog's head.  And the bass drum could be felt in the pit of my stomach, like that of a machine gun, rattling about in an empty laundry dryer.  Altogether the sound was monstrous, filling the room with energy.  My reaction to all of this was a wild and reckless dance that consisted of jumping into fellow moshers, pushing scene-kids around, and screaming like a deranged lunatic who had foregone medication.  I felt a rush of primitive emotions that must have dated back tens of thousands of years to my Neanderthal ancestors fighting a saber toothed cat for a scrap of meat.  In a burst of testosterone and sweat, I leaped about trying to vanquish and destroy everything in my path.  The scenario I have just described was a perfect example of both Flow and Communitas.  The concentration and focus (or Flow) that I experienced was unlike anything else in this world.  I hope and pray that this style of dance makes its way into the Hardcore Hip-Hop scene which I have become fond of recently.  The communitas felt in this example is different from the Communitas that is felt in any other type of dance.  While the music was playing, i felt an intense hatred for the moshers surrounding me.  Why is this?  I knew that they were trying to harm me, so the only way to not get hurt is to push them harder.  This can be achieved by releasing anger.  Not only did I want to hurt my fellow moshers to avoid losing teeth, but the vocalist was screaming obscenities towards the audience which intensifies these feelings of hatred.  And then suddenly, something very strange happened.  The music stopped, and immediately, all of the moshers began to embrace each other.  Complimenting the form of their mosh-mates on their pitting, and laughing about the events that had just transpired.  I too felt a deep connection with all of these weird scene kids that I had just pushed around for five minutes.  There was almost a brotherly connection that is felt between two soldiers after battle.  Because we had survived the chaos together, we felt a bond that lasted until the end of the set.  Then we all went our separate ways, likely to cross paths in a future pit.  

Yours truly

~The Thoughtful Mosher~