My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel

by Ari Shavit

“When you are a mega-DJ,” Chupi tells me, “you have megapower. When you take your place in the elevated booth behind the glass, you know that if you just press one button, it’s as if you are pressing some point in the heads of a thousand people simultaneously. This is power. Total, sexy power. Because now they are really in your hands. You control them. And if you want to, you can send them to heaven. You can make them horny. The energy of the dance floor is sexual energy. And what they beg you for is climax. You get to decide whether you’ll give them what they are now desperate for. They are totally dependent on you. But if you are good, you wait. You don’t hit peak after peak. You play with them. You arouse them, but you don’t yet give it to them. It drives them crazy. And they shout louder, ‘Give it to us.’ And then, finally, when you give it to them, the club is like a ball of fire. Like an atomic blast. God is a DJ; DJ is God. It’s as if you’ve touched a thousand people in every part of their body. And you see all the blood rushing through them, the sweat dripping from them. And they are yours, utterly yours. They thank you and worship you because you gave them something powerful and total. Something that nothing else in life gives them. Something you cannot find in the real life, outdoors.”