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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Corruption's LiveJournal:

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Sunday, February 9th, 2003
4:32 pm
Valentine's Day Massacre Show
Midnight Friday 14th of February 2003 ... come join us for the Saint Valentine's Day Massacre, an art happening celebrating all that is wrong with the gran-daddy-o of hallmark Holidaze, in the TOP SHELF of Dad's Garage Theatre Company, at the corner of Elizabeth St and North Highland Ave. in Inman Park.

Paintings by Jeannette Dorsey Photography by Thomas Tulis Collage by Anthony Melita

Poetry and Performance by Jamie Warde, Melisa DuBois, Deadbeat Bert, Copasetic Chris, Kitten and other surprise guests

Music by Frisqui Berlin, Les Follies Noir and Envie

Roll of the dice determines the Price ($1 to $5, or free) Bar is ALWAYS Open

Dump your Beau on stage and get a cool prize!!!!!!!

more information available at www.dadsgarage.com
Sunday, December 8th, 2002
1:15 pm
It's that.
Instigated in me that somethingA always gives way to somethingB, but it's always still 'something' - but hell, that's a variable, too.

Current Mood: somethingB.
Friday, September 27th, 2002
8:58 pm
Another Audition
JPM Productions, Inc.
Six Flags Over Georgia - Fright Fest 2002
Atlanta, Georgia

Atlanta performers and crew interested in working at Fright Fest 2002

If you have any questions concerning the Event, or to schedule an audition please contact:
Beth Cook
JPM Productions, Inc.
2625 Canton Highway
Marietta, GA 30066-5385
Tel: 770-424-1298, ext. 10
Fax: 770-425-4295

Casting Call:
Saturday September 28, 10 am - 4 pm

Auditions will be held at the JPM Production offices in Marietta.

For more information and character listings please visit the JPM website at:

Thanks!!! And Good Luck!

Current Mood: productive
Thursday, June 20th, 2002
3:27 pm
CLive Barker Project Opens Tonight
Sensurround Stagings Kicks Off It's Second Anniversary

Sensurround Stagings is pleased to present two little
jewels from the master of horror, Clive Barker.
That's right! Before Hellraiser and Lord of Illusions,
before the publication of his horror fiction, Clive
Barker was making theatre audiences jump at the Dog
Company in London. Barker was one of the original
co-founders and penned most of the Dog Company's body
of work.

Sensurround will mount History of the Devil and
Frankenstein in Love during the months of June and
July in repertory. Expect anything and you won't be
disappointed. Barker's plays are known for their
grotesque, farcical and quite romantic nature -
seemingly contradictory but nonetheless sublime.

History of the Devil, directed by Justin Welborn, will
feature Patrick Wood as the Devil - fresh from his run
in Whole World's, Glengarry Glen Ross. History takes
the audience to the murky, infested waters of Lake
Turcana, North Africa to witness the trial of the
century. Orchestrated by the Devil himself, the trial
takes on many philosophical arguments regarding the
essence of good and evil and ultimately will decide
whether the Fallen Angel will be granted the rights to
re-enter Heaven. The energetic ensemble will take on
36 roles and includes: Steve Westdahl, Dede
Bloodworth, Bernard Clark, Sarah Falkenburg, Kalina
McCreery, Rodney Leete, Melodie Rogers, Jason
Stallings, Anessa Ramsey, Melisa DuBois and Stephano
Andreas. History of the Devil opens on June 20th.

Frankenstein in Love, directed by Aileen Loy, is
billed as a grand guignol romance. Delightful, witty
and at turns quite grotesque - Frankenstein in Love is
definitely an ugly duckling story where the audience
gets the chance to root for the monsters. Yes... they
are gruesome, thanks to the efforts of effects wizard
extraordinaire, Chris Brown, but in the land of Barker,
the monsters are heroic. Set in a plague ridden country
in Central America, Frankenstein's creatures become
revolutionaries of another kind. Spearheaded by El
Coco (the Bogeyman and Dr. Frankenstein's greatest
creation), the people find their greatest hero in a
man who is truly divided against himself, as he tries
to make sense of a life without hope and God. El
Coco, played by Steve Westdahl, is a patchwork of
human parts, constantly in mutiny with one another.
Will El Coco learn to accept his not quite human
condition and transcend his environment? Perhaps, but
only with the love of a good woman, fellow human
experiment, Veronique played by Caroline Masclet. The
ensemble is rounded out by Bernard Clark, Kalina
McCreery, Marc Cram as Dr. Frankenstein, Patrick Wood,
Travis Young and Rodney Leete. Frankenstein in Love
opens on June 27th.

Performances are at The Art Farm, 835 Wylie Street in
Cabbagetown. Shows run Thursday thru Saturday at 8:00
with two Sunday matinees at 5:00pm. There will also
be two additional Monday performances at 8:00pm, and
two Midnight Saturday performances as well. Tickets are $12.
Reservations are available by calling (404) 524-0302 or
online at www.sensurroundstagings.com

Specific dates:
History of the Devil: June 20-22, July 1, 3, 5, 6, 7,
18, 20th at midnight, 26, and the 27th.
Frankenstein in Love: June 27-29, July 8, 11, 12, 13,
14, 19, 20, 26, and 27th at midnight.
Monday, April 1st, 2002
9:43 pm
Today's Search for Bibliomancy:

*rumaging through friend's bookshelf*
Friend: Whacha looking for?
Me: Random book to grab a random quote from.
Friend: Well, there's Shakespeare.
Me: Too cliche. And already done that recently I think...
Friend: Well, there's Fetish Magazine right next to Shakespeare.
*moment of bemused silence, followed by giggling*
Me: You know, that in and of itself is quote-worthy...

Today's Bibliomancy:

"By the mid-thirteenth century the hierarchy would comprise a Master; his deputy, the Seneschal; the Marshal, supreme military official; the Commander of the Land and Realm of Jerusalem, who was both treasurer and in charge of the navy and estate management; the Commander of the City of Jerusalem, who was hospitaller; and finally the Draper or keeper of the wardrobe - a sort of quartermaster general. The master was chosen by an elaborate combination of vote and lot designed to ensure impartiality, a procedure which recalled the election of the Ventian Doge. Powerful though he was, important decisions were taken by the General Chapter. Provincial Masters had all the Grand Master's rights in their own lands save when he was present in person. The Marshal was the Order's third most important officer and provincial Marshals were responsible to him. This organization took many years to evolve, but it became increasingly necessary, for there were many recruits. There number was swollen by confrere knights, who served for only a short period, donating half their property, and who could marry. Cistercian confratres were the model for these auxiliary brethren.

"The Order's ecclesiastical privileges were very great, since, though it soon acquired its own clergy, priest brothers, it was exempt from episcopal visitiation, being responsible to the pope alone; the bull Omne datum optimum allowed these chaplains to celebrate Mass and dispense the sacraments during an interdict. As clerics, brethren could be tried only in ecclesiastical courts; it has been said that they were both a Church within a Church and a State within a State.

"The new brethren had joined the Order not just to fight but to pray. They saw nothing contradictory in their vocation. In St. Bernard's words, 'killing for Christ' was malecide not homicide, the extermination of injustice rather than of the unjust, and therfore desirable; indeed, 'to kill a pagan is to win glory since it gives glory to Christ'. Long before the Crusades, Popes Leo IV and John VIII had declared that warriors pure in heart who died fighting for the Church were inherit the kingdrom of God. Death in the battle was martyrdom, a road travelled by 20,000 Templars during the next two centuries."

Desmond Seward, "The Monks of War"

Current Mood: amused
Tuesday, March 26th, 2002
3:04 pm
Wide Open Beaver- Atlanta

�The Wide Open Beaver Festival� runs 4 nights only, Wednesday March 27
through Saturday March 30th at 8pm with an additional midnight performance
on March 29th. For reservations call (404)524-0302 or book online at

After a brief break, Sensurround Stagings is pleased to announce we are back
in production beginning our 2002 season with �The Wide Open Beaver Festival� , March 27th - 30th at PushPush Theater.

Come follow our most eloquent host, the Beaver, as he leads us on a journey
through the Wonderland of sexual divisions that, ironically, unite us all.

Part satire, part serious, and all a good-time, �Beaver� is a response to,
and at times parody of, the Gender-Centric influences escalating in modern
culture, from "The Vagina Monologues" to "The Man Show".

Conceived and directed by Sensurround associates Justin Welborn and Bernard
Clark and developed with an ensemble of writers and actors this 21st century
Vaudevillian romp features cavemen, cheerleaders, titillation, ugly truths,
pretty lies, and a 10 foot penis dragon. Listen up children, Wide Open is
definitely for mature audiences only.

�The Wide Open Beaver Festival� runs 4 nights only, Wednesday March 27
through Saturday March 30th at 8pm with an additional midnight performance
on March 29th. For reservations call (404)524-0302 or book online at

In addition to the co-creators, the ensemble includes local favorites and
Sensurround regulars Scott Poythress, Aileen Loy, Caroline Masclet, Sarah
Falkenburg, Steve Westdahl, Kitten McCreery, Oz Dilman, and Mike Katinsky.
New to Sensurround and lending their wonderful talents, we have - Eamon
Glennon, Rodney Lee, Angele Masters, Melisa Dubois, and Jamie Warde.

Sensurround Stagings is proud to be hosted for �The Wide Open Beaver
Festival� by PushPush Theater following their 5th anniversary celebration.
PushPush is located 1123 Zonolite Road in the Floataway Building, just north
of the Virgina Highlands area

Also coming up this season at Sensurround Stagings:
�The Clive Barker Project�, featuring 2 plays from this master of horror
staged in rep, opening June 20th at Art Farm;
�Faustus� in conjunction with Tal Kasia Productions, opening September 13th
at 7 Stages Backdoor Theater;
The return of the Tiny Ninja Theater Company in the Fall; and much, much

�The Wide Open Beaver Festival� runs 4 nights only, Wednesday March 27
through Saturday March 30th at 8pm with an additional midnight performance
on March 29th. For reservations call (404)524-0302 or book online at

For more information/press materials for Sensurround Stagings, �Wide Open
Beaver�, or any of our upcoming productions, please feel free to contact us:
Email: press@sensurroundstagings.com
You can also visit our website at http://www.sensurroundstagings.com

From Southern Voice:
Elsewhere, Sensurround Stagings is presenting THE WIDE OPEN BEAVER FESTIVAL, a take-off on gender-specific pieces as "The Man Show" and "The Vagina Monolgues." It's said to include "beer, frogmen, cigarette girls, Neanderthals, cheerleaders and a guy in a beaver costume." O-K.

And I would like to point out that of all the talk of other shows from bigger theaters they used the picture from THE WIDE OPEN BEAVER FESTIVAL. *smug smile*
Friday, February 22nd, 2002
3:44 am
Today's Bibliomancy:

"'I doubt,' he reflected, 'if life has very much more use for a perfect thing, for finished grace and beauty, than an artist has for his last year's masterpiece. Life grows the glorious fruit - and parts from it. The essential fact about life is imperfection. Life that ceases to struggle away form whatever it is towards something that it isn't, is ceasing to be life...

'I don't want to be brought back to this sort of thing. After I have so painfully - got away from it. I don't want to have my illusions restored. It unmakes one. It is necessary before one can do one solitary good thing in life that one should be humiliated and totally disillusioned about oneself. One isn't born to any living reality until one has escaped from one's prepossession with the personal life. The personal life branches off from the stem to tie. The reality of life is to contribute...

'All the things in human life that are worth while have been done by clumsy and inelegant people, by people in violent conflict with themselves, by people who blundered and who remain blundering people. They hurt themselves and awake. You know nothing of the inner life of the ungracious. You know nothing of being born as a soul. The bitterness. The reluctant search for compensations.'"

H. G. Wells, Meanwhile

Current Mood: tired
Monday, February 18th, 2002
5:24 pm
Today's Bibliomancy:

"There is no room for any appeal ad misericordiam in behalf of such persons. But though we do not now inflict so much evil on those who think differently from us, as it was formerly our custom to do, it may be that we do ourselves as much evil as ever by our treatment of them. Socrates was put to death, but the Socratic philosophy rose like the sun in heaven, and spread its illumination over the whole intellectual firmament. Christians were cast to the lions, but the Christian Church grew up a stately and spreading tree, overtopping the older and less vigorous growths, and stifling them by its shade.

Our merely social intolerance, kills no one, roots out no opinions, but induces men to disguise them, or to abstain from any active effort for their diffusion. With us, heretical opinions do no perceptibly gain or even lose, ground in each debate or generation; they never blaze out far and wide, but continue to smoulder in the narrow circles of thinking and studious persons among whom they originate, without ever lighting up the general affairs of mankind with either a true or a deceptive light."

~ John Stuart Mill, "On Liberty"

Current Mood: drained
Saturday, November 17th, 2001
8:30 pm
a poem
I have much to offer the world you say. I have a kind heart and gentle touch I have been told. You are an individual. I am nothing is what I see. I avoid the mirror. I avoid the reflection of myself in the windows of storefronts. I have been honest to myself.
I have nothing to offer. I want to shave my hair of the locks that have earned me the name "happy fun hair". The one folks people once thought to always be happy. Someone to count on for a laugh and a hug. The one who has a cup of coffee ready in hand to those who seek it.
Words is all that I have to offer. Words on a pages in books. Words and thoughts that rattle in my head since the age of 17. The sights of city lights do not calm me. My only comfort the doll hold at night as I cry to sleep. The answer not found in a bottle of booze. The taste of coffee a distant memory like your touch. A ripped t-shirt of Jane's addiction a badge of honor from days gone by. A new black flag saved in a box till now.
Pages turn yellow with words written from a bright eyes boy who once had innocence. Hair that has been many colors of the rainbow now just another painful reminder. Shave I say, maybe you can be someone else. Burn the pages of your books and your words your thoughts, burn what is you. All the music I listen to another reminder of pain. Every show I watch trying to numb the pain just increases it.
You made me feel safe. You made me feel whole. You made me feel love. I took risk once more with you as my strength. You were the one. I will never be the same. The shakes take hold of me more and more. Even now my hand shakes uncontrollably. I have not heard your voice in many a moon now. Wanting to talk to you. Wanting to hold you again. wanting to be with you.
I tried my best in my mission to myself. In many ways I have archived what I wanted. Though it does not matter if I do not have you. I never want to grow old with any one but you. Well its too late for me I will never be the same as I once was. I don't know what I will become. I don't know where I will go. What I do know is I will die alone like everyone else does.
Sunday, September 23rd, 2001
7:19 am
tears and blood
tears shedding as they fall to the ground
no one near to wipe them away
no one to hold me tight as fear grips me.
those I love long gone
I am just a memory or a story
emotions boiling over as if it were a flood
wings of hope broken like so may promises
light from above casting nothing but shadow
love proving to be nothing more then the myth of greeting cards
the bite of bitterness grows
the cold winds smashing me against the rocks over and over
the walls of my heart form with rhubarb so I may never feel the pain again
tears and blood flow
where did it go wrong
when did the venom take its hold
tears and blood
wanting to be numb
yet even then I would still feel
I look to the sky
tears and blood
I seek the taste of flesh
the smell of her hair
tears and blood
tears and blood
images haunt my sleeping hours
never to be free of you
never to hold you
tears and blood
I can't cry anymore
I don't want to lose you
I don't want to die
blood is not the answer
tears will not bring you here
what to do with this pain I feel
what to do with a hole in my heart
Saturday, August 11th, 2001
8:42 pm
The Story

When you first placed your mouth on mine
you could not know
that my soul would slip off my tongue
such a slight and subtle thing
and now, I fear, you have swallowed it.

There are oceans unfolding in your throat.
Your stories are ships that may never return.
I had gone with them, the story goes
and now I am lost
half-drowned and bedraggled
where your dolphins weave their dance

as they sing, velvety, wet:
She is waiting for you, and she drowns in her dream
She is wet, she is waiting for you

You have swallowed me, love, you must spit me out
or I'll learn to swim in your sea.

-- Zara Houshmand

(this is a poem by a persian writer. if you are interested in Iran, politics, government, history, international relations, current events, persian culture, language, art, food, ... a lot of other stuff we have there, you should come check it out at www.livejournal.com/community/persians. diversity is encouraged; interest is the only thing that matters :) anyone can join, interest is key. hope to see your comments, new watchers, members, and new friends.)
Friday, July 27th, 2001
11:09 pm
no title
you sit there saying no
you sit there saying it may never be
you just sit there

have you ever had the courage
have you ever had the desire
have you ever felt the passion

you just sit there
you say others can't
you say they will fail
you just sit there

at least we have the course
I have left my home
I have moved away from you
I am capable of anything

those whom I love are the same
we might sit and bitch
yet we will do what ever we can to be happy
you just sit there
reading words
watching as life goes by

have you ever experience a sunset on a roof
have you ever experienced the joy of pure happiness
have you ever known the thrill of not see the next day

its about the moment
it about doing what you can while you can
are you still sitting there
why must you be so damn tragic

live for the now
live for you
forget what the others say
be what you want no matter the consequences
breath the ocean air
feel the wind as you make you move

don't be like them
don't just sit there
Tuesday, July 17th, 2001
2:19 am
Counting Sins
There was a time when I would have looked at us and thought, "My my. How utterly desperate and immoral. To cling in such a fashion to a matter of the flesh."

Now, I look at us and think, "This is what lust is about. It is love and desire and completion.
Sin the first.

There was a time when you would have touched me and although I would not have walked away, I would have closed my eyes and pretended myself away.

Now, I crawl to your fingers and lips and eyes and anything else that can caress my skin.
Sin the second.

I was once the person to deny the idea of good in the things we share.

Now, I can do nothing but cry to the devils and saints to bring me more of this.
Sin the third.

There was a time when I thought that I could live with something that lacked passion and was settled in mediocrity.

Now, I know that all I have ever wanted it passion and the extremity that exists in all that we do...that I do...that you do to me.
Sin the fourth.
And possibly the biggest sin. It was the one against myself. It was the one where I thought I could "settle". It was the one where I tried to sell my soul for a phantom of possibility.

Now, I can revel in what can be..what is...what will be.
I can listen to my flesh and its cravings.
I can hear my cries of ecstasy.
I can heed my heart and its desires.
I can feel my satisfaction and the way it quivers.
I can accept my sins as beauty.
I can see my corruption as salvation.
I can revel in my impurity.
I can breath.

Current Mood: horny
Sunday, June 3rd, 2001
4:20 pm
the act of
I let him know that this wonderment he sees in everything will one day fade and reality will be so much tougher. Love will come at a higher cost. Dreams will be seen threshed through sweat and torment. Games will be for blood. Happiness will be as diamonds, not sunlight.

I saw a moment of pain in his eyes.
But the sting now will save him years of painful wrenching.

My job is just beginning.


Current Mood: sick
Sunday, May 27th, 2001
4:28 pm
Human beings face two causes of death: untimely death and death due to the exhaustion of their natural lifespan. Untimely death can be averted through the methods taught for prolonging life. However, when the cause of death is the exhaustion of the natural lifespan, you are like a lamp which has ran out of oil. There is no way of averting death by cheating it; you have to get ready to go.


i found myself sketching a woman checking rows and rows of lanterns on what resembled endless clothes lines....and -now- i find this quote....

Current Mood: cold
Sunday, May 13th, 2001
4:56 pm
St. Lenny speaks
What is a saint? A saint is someone who has achieved a remote human possibility.
It is impossible to say what that possibility is. I think it has something to do with the
energy of love. Contact with this energy results in the exercise of a kind of balance in
the chaos of existence. A saint does not dissolve the chaos; if he did the world would
have changed long ago. I do not think that a saint dissolves the chaos even for
himself, for there is something arrogant and warlike in the notion of a man setting the
universe in order. It is a kind of balance that is his glory. He rides the drifts like an
escaped ski. His course is the caress of the hill. His track is a drawing of the snow in a
moment of its particular arrangement with wind and rock. Something in him so loves the
world that he gives himself to the laws of gravity and chance. Far from flying with the
angels, he traces with the fidelity of a seismograph needle the state of the solid bloody
landscape. His house is dangerous and finite, but he is at home in the world. He can
love the shape of human beings, the fine and twisted shapes of the heart. It is good to
have among us such men, such balancing monsters of love.

- Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers

Current Mood: peaceful
Thursday, May 10th, 2001
3:32 pm
The Proverbs of Hell
Geez, it's been too long since I've read through some Blake. Dear me.
What a Star93.

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy.

Drive your cart and plow over the bones of the dead.

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

She who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence.

The cut worm forgives the plow.

She whose face gives no light, shall never become a star.

The hours of folly are measur�d by the clock, but of wisdom: no clock can measure.

All wholsom food is caught without a net or a trap.

Bring out number weight & measure in a year of dearth.

No bird soars too high, if she soars with her own wings.

The most sublime act is to set another before you
If the fool would persist in her folly she would become wise.

Folly is the cloke of knavery.

Shame is Pride�s cloke.

Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion.

Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps.

The fox condemns the trap not himself.

Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth.

The bird a nest, the spider a web, woman friendship.

What is now proved was once, only imagin�d.

Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.

Think in the morning, Act in the noon, Eat in the evening, Sleep in the night.

The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.

Expect poison from the standing water.

You never know what is enough until you know what is more than enough.

The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth.

The weak in courage is strong in cunning.

If others had not been foolish, we should be so.

To create a little flower is the labour of ages.

The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands & feet Proportion.

Exuberance is Beauty.

Improvement makes strait roads, but the crooked roads without Improvement, are roads of Genius.

Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires.

Where man is not nature is barren.

Enough! or Too much

Between two moments, bliss is ripe.

The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged & numerous senses could perceive.
And particularly they studied the genius of each city & country. placing it under its mental deity.

Till a system was formed, which some took advantage of & enslav�d the vulgar by attempting to realise or abstract the mental deities from their objects; thus began Priesthood.

Choosing forms of worship from Poetic tales.

And at length they announced that the Gods had ordered such things.

Thus men forgot that All deities reside in the human breast.

- William Blake (1757-1827)
Wednesday, May 2nd, 2001
9:53 am
Because they are wickedly beautiful...
A bit of Prose given to me by friends as birthday gifts...
From Algernon

Kitten approaches like her namesake...eyes locked to yours and you find
yourself frozen like a Cemetery Angel.

That smile on her lips and the glint in her eyes, pleasure with the hint of
sensuality that can make a grown Goth weak in the knees glides towards
you......you would crash the gates of Heaven for that look...

Kitten wraps her arms around you.......then you feel it, her inner power,
her soul, her dreams, her happiness, her pain, and you do not want her to
let you go...

Bathed in Kitten's scent which smells of sacrificed flowers to Baste with
the hint of slightly sweaty PVC and Leather, you wrap your arms around her
as well...arms which feel as if they were designed to fit there.

In this heavenly embrace, this dream time, you both slightly rock back and
forth in a slow tempo in what seems silent to the outside world, is your
dance of greetings and reunion......

My friends are amazing. They write me so very well...

* Posted with permission. All rights Algernon 2001

Current Mood: thankful
Tuesday, May 1st, 2001
5:09 pm
Maintenance Update
Thanks to the screwups with amnis trying to post, I was able to update the settings -- if you haven't been able to post because of the old settings, you may need to unsubscribe then resubscribe to the community.

The Mgt.
Friday, April 27th, 2001
4:35 pm
speaking of Hakim Bey...
Someone who posted to the Coil e-list--

Date: Fri, 27 Apr 2001
From: sardonic <sardonic74@yahoo.com>
Subject: [coil] Hakim Bey Radio
To: COIL@hollyfeld.org

For those of you interested in Hakim Bey - I have set up a live 24 hour
stream of TAZ at the following URL...... enjoy!

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