digression

Last night I was thinking (I have a lot of time to think these evenings), and it occured to me that "Panico en la Discoteca" would be a good name for an album.

For those who do not know, "Panico en la Discoteca" was a short novella we read in high school Spanish class under the tutelage of gay Senor Kutz. It was written with small words and short sentences so that even we novice Spanish speakers could follow the story. The gist, as I recall, was that a handfull of teenage friends go to enjoy themselves at the discoteca, but their night of revelry is cut short when the discoteca catches fire. The eponymous Panico ensues.

A digression from this digression: I remember being required to improvise a scene culled from the exciting mid-section of the novella, in which two of the friends attempt to escape the fire by climbing through a skylight or trapdoor or somesuch. Details escape me, but let's say I was supposed to be Raul. My friend was played by my actual friend Pablo. That was his real name, but let's say it was also that of his character so that this admittedly weak story isn't also needlessly confusing. Anyway, during the course of this escape Raul becomes increasingly frightened by the smoke and Panic and says "I'm scared," or "Tengo miedo." Only I misspoke and said, "Tengo mierda," which means, "I have shit." After an unrelated episode involving a particular vitriolic excuse for an absence from the community-service organization (which, despite its hilarity, will not be printed here) of which Senor Kutz was also the advisor, he would later threaten me with the words, "Nacho, I know your mother."

"Panico en la discoteca" is more striking than either its authors or Senor Kutz could have intended because of the poignant juxtaposition which it contains. The book is written like one intended for small children, since high-school Spanish students have roughly the same vocabulary. "Raul sees his friend Pablo. 'I am scared,' says Raul. 'The window is very high.'" The elementary prose lulls the reader into assuming that the book really is meant for naive tykes, making it all the more jolting when several of the teenagers die at the end from smoke inhalation or being trampled to death during the Panic.

I found the intrusion of these dark themes of realism into the happy "see Jane run" story to be disturbing. "'It is a nice day,' says Jane. 'Let's go to the discoteca.' 'Yes,' says Raul. 'It will be fun.' 'I can't feel my legs,' says Jane." The result is shocking because it is not intended to be as such.