The skinhead's T shirt says SMILE -- IT'S THE APOCALYPSE. And judging from the scene around him, maybe it is. Several hundred young hedonists join him in dancing wild tribal stomps as strobe lights flash and 50,000 watts of techno- house music blast from the speakers of a New York City nightclub called the Shelter. On the fringes, others watch an upside-down projection of Flintstones % cartoons or sidle up to the nonalcoholic "smart bar" for bottled water or vitamin-enriched fruit juice. "It's a good crowd tonight," observes Moby, a techno deejay with a loyal following. "I don't sense the usual...
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