In his Panopticon writings from 1787, philosopher Jeremy Bentham described a prison with a column serving as an all-seeing eye at its center. Inmates lived in constant fear, aware of the possibility that they were being watched at all times—that, as George Orwell wrote of Big Brother in his prescient 1984, “Every sound… was overheard and except in darkness, every moment scrutinized.”

And the lord said to Noah, come with all your household into the ark, for I have seen you to be righteous (upright and in right standing) before me in this generation." Genesis 8

Have you noticed the rain? We watched the lightning from the lobby entrance to the Rivington Hotel and counted 1 alligators, 2 alligators, 3 alligators, 4 in a super-scientific attempt to determine how far away the magnificent bolts were from my merry band of Sunday travelers. Then it was upon us, and I said to my flock, let us flee unto Spitzer's and partake in friendly fare. So we went to Spitzer's. I had the PBLT and the rest had salad. My arteries must be getting hard. The downpour came at us hard, and we huddled with the masses and drank and ate and waited and watched in wonder. Mother nature ain't happy. The busboys tried to lower the windows, but it was a slow go, and the windswept rain wiped out the first two rows of diners. We got a little wet, but we were an intrepid band, and it washed away the sweat of shopping and strolling. I bought a cool hat at Still Life. The rain was traveling sideways in torrential sheets, thunder and lightning were right above us, and we didn't have to count critters to understand that. It was a rain of biblical proportion, then it ended in sunlight -- and then it happened again yesterday.

Semu Namakajo, a.k.a. DJ Reach, is Manhattan’s very own household name when it comes to the world of nightclubs. Bringing his gift for musical mish-mashing to haunts across NYC, Vegas, the Hamptons, and Miami, Reach is best known for being one of the nicest dudes in the biz -- just ask any club owner in town. In a city where the sincere have dwindled down to a mere few, this New York native brings nothing but the realness in his music as well as his life. That’s because the music undoubtedly is his life.

Striking a commanding pose atop a dimly lit balcony overlooking his newest nightlife venture, Wass Stevens keeps a critical eye on the imaginary crowd that will fill Avenue later tonight. Soon enough, the empty stage will be overrun with a new cast of characters hand-picked by the discerning doorman himself. "It's kind of an innate skill," Stevens says of his work at the door. "I read people to know is they are going to add or take away from the vibe once inside. Like acting, people are all about facade once the sun goes down." Though he orchestrates atmosphere at Avenue and the landmark club Marquee, by day he studies lines and tries his luck at movie auditions (and he's still mum about his recent spot of trouble with the law.)

I met Matt Assante and Dustin Terry at Marquee. They are too much the face of the plague, for they are promoters who have gotten this “models bring bottle-buyers” thing down pat. At Marquee and the roof of Gansevoort and similar places, they line up a herd of models and book gentlemen suitors at nearby tables. The “bringing in the posse thing” is so pre-recession. In today’s club economy, in order to score big you need a percentage of the table sales to make ends meet. Matt and Dustin’s star rose just as the Dow Jones sank. Where most promoters bring 20 people or less, this dynamic duo are -- in the words of one seasoned club entrepreneur -- “killing it. They are one of the few teams that actually draw anymore, and their crowd actually spends money.” To those who say bottle service killed clubs, they are public enemies number one and two -- or are they just a couple of nice guys trying to finish first?

I made a rather big mistake: I underestimated the effort by Noah Tepperberg and Jason Strauss, Strategic Group, and "special friends" on behalf of Avenue, the newest, hottest place around. From afar, Avenue seemed like a smart move. A built-out space 100 feet from Richie Akiva and Scott Sartiano's super hot 1Oak would give Noah and Jason an opportunity to service their A-crowd, which was bored with Marquee after six years of undeniable success. Richie, Scott, Ronnie Madra, and Jeffrey Jah have already done the heavy lifting and turned a block once dominated by Harleys and those who worship them at the always-rowdy Red Rock West into a high-rent district. I felt that without much effort, Avenue could do pretty well. Word on the street a few months ago indicated that it would be a quick fixer-upper -- a band aid to service for the Tao Vegas/Marquee crowd until they could do something right again. But word on the street should often be washed into the gutter, as Avenue is a monumental effort and success.

I got this story secondhand -- and like sweaters I get that way, it's bound to have a few holes in it. It seems that Bungalow 8 was closed for ten days, and excuses like “Amy isn't around” and “They were taking a break or renovating” were thrown out for their adoring public. A source with some chops told me it was the collapse of parts of the roof that caused the closing. Plexiglas panels came detached, and in a sky-is-falling late night incident, the party came to a stop. Repairs were long overdue, and staff did their best to control the elements with strategically placed buckets and such. Amy is indeed traveling some, but my source revealed that with only about a year and a half left on her lease, Ms. Sacco has decided to ride it out. She has some money put aside from the sale of her West 23rd Street boîte as well as a flow of consulting fees from the Griffin, the Hard Rock Hotel in Las Vegas, and the "Living by Amy" condo project on John Street. Bungalow 8 London, which according to another source isn’t hitting its marks, is still another revenue stream for the queen of nightlife.

Like a diabetic avoiding a candy store, I avoid strip clubs. I don't want to want what I can't have, and even if I could have it, I really truly don't think I want it really anyway -- I think. Anyways, I don't frequent them, but whenever I would lumber down 27th Street (back when that was something some people did), the guys at the back door of Scores would flag me down and invite me in. They knew I wouldn't go, but in some old school ritual they extended the invite anyway. My man Clint used to say, "A man's gotta know his limitations." I've got a weakness for women, and as Brian Ferry once said, "Love is the drug for me." So anyway, I don't go.

The new BlackBook Guides for iPhone has been released -- an in addition to tons of new features, fixes, and improvements, it also features the premiere of our new Access program. The red key symbol on any listing means you can access free, custom perks at that location by showing off the BlackBook app on your iPhone. From a special store discount to a comped cover charge, the list of perks is growing fast. Check it out now! Full press release after the jump.

The Harvard Business School case study of Marquee nightclub came out as reported yesterday on DBTH. The study was forwarded to me by a bevy of friends -- Facebook and real -- because my name was in there on page 3. I thank the boys for crediting me as the designer, but I also redid it with Chris Sheffield a couple years later, and then again with my current partner Marc Dizon. Although Marquee isn't what it used to be, it still is one of the premier clubs of its type. I'll take credit for being a big part of the design team, but I must acknowledge that Noah, Jason Strauss, Andrew Sasson, Mark Packer, Colleen Weinstein, and many others contributed to designing a club that functions as well as any I've ever seen.