So it turns out that Erik Davis writes even better than he speaks. He's an accomplished freelance writer within the worlds of the weird and wondrous, and I have managed to find a few of his pieces to share with you all.
This article below, was originally written for a magazine in '95. Davis was paid to go to Goa and rave, tripping his balls of on the Indian Bays; and what you're about to read is his account of it all.
Awesome! Definitely a story for the grandkids.
It's one hour past midnight, and the jungle throbs with techno. The tropical breeze off the Arabian Sea is warm and wet. I stuff a wad of rupees into the outstretched palm of the auto-rickshaw taxi-driver, and head toward the noise. I'm 350 kilometers south of Bombay, in India's coastal state of Goa, and I'm about to hit a rave.
Read the whole thing, here.
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