phil spector

phil spector was the mad hatter except that he was actively malevolent. everyone deferred to him although he was so frail and tiny he posed no physical threat and had no actual authority. there were all manner of persons and human sized bipedal animals dressed in elaborate period costume- but they weren't costumes, they were real. every time i found myself engaged in conversation with someone (some thing...) my eye would wander from their faces and begin to run all over the textures of the textiles they were wearing and no matter how urgent the subject being discussed was, all i kept thinking were things like, 'wow, that is real silk velvet!' or 'they don't make silk satin that heavy anymore- where did it come from?' and, 'my GOD that brocade is so artful and intricate!' the whole scene was very chaotic and though it seemed that most of the persons (and creatures...) present thought i needed to be some part of a solution or resolution or higher understanding of whatever it was that they were all on about, i was pretty sure not one of them had a clue that i wasn't paying the least bit of constructive attention. for some reason that was never made clear, phil spector kept getting madder and madder (angrier and angrier...) and as he spoke i could see his spit spraying whenever he popped a consonant. i kept thinking, 'this is so crazy, i wonder how i got here...'