THE FUTURE FARMERS of America and other aficionados of ...

The event is a special "12-hour marathon", so it's nice to think that a few Sonic Youth fans have spent the past ten hours enduring generic house music. That, or praising its genius. Smart clubgoers, however, only have to endure a few hours before Yoko finally takes the stage?more accurately, the DJ booth?at 7 a.m.

Yoko's probably skipping her morning Reiki session for this appearance, but she still gives the crowd something to remember. She's obviously read up on this disco stuff, and takes the mic to provide her own unique take on the orgasmic moanings of Donna Summer. The 70-year-old diva doesn't try to maintain this amazing performance for the remix's entire 10 minutes. Still, it feels like a casually great moment in dance music.

"I want to thank Yoko for letting me touch her masterpiece," shouts Tenaglia, as the shirtless farmhands next to me start fondling each other's works of art. Other clubgoers show their appreciation by competing to see who can make the funniest trilling sound. It's like being present at the invention of the disco whistle?except the crowd would have treated that moment with reverence.

Then the winning cameos continue at the launch party for Beefeater's Wet brand, held at Eyebeam Atelier. I've been told that Carson Daly is hosting the event, but it's hard to be sure. In a move inspired by MTV favorite Saddam Hussein, the club has been cleverly filled with hundreds of Daly look-alikes.

The token burlesque act, however, provides true originality. The club wisely brings in L.A. gal Dita Von Teese to show how little the NYC girls understand an ancient art form. (First hint, ladies: Don't get tattoos.) By the end of her charming and glittery striptease, every heterosexual Carson Daly in the crowd desires Miss Dita?although only the bravest would stay interested after learning she's regularly befouled by boyfriend Marilyn Manson.

People mysteriously hang around after Von Teese's performance. Fortunately, partyers can always time their exits by another ridiculous display of drunkenness from Page Six scribe Chris Wilson?here signaling it's time to move on by spouting alcohol from his blowhole like Orca the Killer Whale. Can't Steve Dunleavy try teaching his coworkers how to hold their liquor?

Law & Order semi-regular William McNamara will later wrap up the night with an unintentional live sex show outside of Pangea. But the young actor doesn't get to take his bows until a few nights later, as he holds court at his "Welcome Back to New York" party held at Suite 16, the fine club where the doormen are still laughing at pothead/ex-Dell spokesman Ben Curtis for recently introducing himself as a "celebrity."

As the charming McNamara explains it, though, the party would be better billed as a "Welcome Back to New York?Here's Another Kick in the Balls" party. Unlike many actors, McNamara's actually happy to tell self-deprecating tales of how, for example, the president of his fan club called to give him shit over a recent performance.

The true heartbreak for New Yorkers, though, is that McNamara's returned to New York without the twin towers of former companion Erika Eleniak, whose topless appearance in 1992's Under Siege essentially created Maxim's readership. "It's been a rough week," says McNamara, and he's such an amiable guy that you almost forget you're feeling sorry for somebody with a fan club. And that barely-but-totally-legal schoolgirl with him at Pangea? She was hot.