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MONDAY

“I was a bit of a raver in my own time,” self-proclaimed cyberwriter Douglas Rushkoff admits, discussing his novel Ecstasy Club, going on to muse, “What if you dedicated your life towards the goals on a rave flyer? What would you get?” An insipidly trendy book perhaps? Media whore Rushkoff, who has just sold the novel’s movie rights to Miramax, gives us real characters who delve into cyber-cults, all-night raves, and conspiracy theories: the official “new culture.” Well, no thanks. If I want to check out the “rave generation,” I’ll head to the Capitol Ballroom at 4 a.m. on Saturday and trip over unconscious kids who can’t hold their drugs. Ask Mr. Rushkoff to sign your book and explain why he takes $7,500 an hour consulting big-name companies on how to sell to their new target audience, “screen-agers.” At 7 p.m. at Borders, 18th & L Sts. NW. FREE. (202) 466-4999. (Elisa Nader)

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