I was scheduled to talk with Gilad Atzmon about his excellent new book, Being In Time. A few hours before the start, the venue, called The Cluny, cancelled our booking. We went along to alert those coming to a change of venue and to ask the management of The Cluny, a music venue where Gilad has played often over many years, why they felt compelled to exclude us. Their reaction was vitriolic. Vitriolic and weird. The weirdness is the thing. We were treated like sub-humans, literally worse than the whippet which was allowed access to the venue from which we were barred. When we asked “why?” the manager and the owner of the venue would not answer. We were not worthy of a response. We were a stink in their nostrils, or at least that is the impression they felt compelled to give.
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