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SUICIDE CULT [26 Aug 2003|02:51pm]
www.churchofeuthanasia.org / somerville, MA

Chris Korda is the founder and Reverend of the Church of Euthanasia,
an international nonprofit organization devoted to restoring balance between
humans and the remaining non-human species, through voluntary population
reduction.  Chris is also known as a composer of electronic music, as an
instrumentalist (guitar, piano, drums, vocals), and as a visual artist,
including graphic design, sculpture, photography, video, and performance

As Reverend, Chris has directed the Church's quixotic "dada actions", such
as a fetus barbeque during a pro-life rally,blind-folded human meat "taste
tests" in front of local supermarkets, and an attack on a sperm bank with a
15-foot tall penis spurting white foam.  Chris also collaborated with local
artist Lydia Eccles on the 1996 Unabomber for President campaign, and in
1997 the Jerry Springer show devoted an entire episode to the Church of
Euthanasia, titled "I want to join a suicide cult."  In 2001, Chris released
"I Like to Watch," a four-minute music video that mixed 9-11 news footage
with pornography and sports.

Chris has released three albums and five singles, including the club classic
"Save the Planet, Kill Yourself," and has performed at clubs and music
festivals around the world, including Sonar, Love Parade, and Paris Gay
Pride.  Chris was born in New York City, and eats organically grown
vegetables, whole grains, fruit, seaweed, pickles, and human flesh.  Chris'
latest album, "The Man of the Future," is available on International DeeJay
Gigolo Records.  For more information see www.churchofeuthanasia.org

Weds. August 27th @ Phoenix Landing. Doors 10pm
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Wednesday July 16th at the Phoenix Landing [15 Jul 2003|07:42pm]
This Wednesday we at the Phoenix Landing are bringing up Dylan Drazen to drop some rough n tough techno...If you have never experienced one of Dylan's sets, prepare to bear witness to one of the most innovative dj performances captured on two tables, a cd player and an ill-loop effects unit. Dylan has a bi-monthly residency in Barcelona, Spain and has produced mind fucking techno on such labels as Remains, Blueline, and Clicktracks. Once part of the Boston conglomerate, Dylan long ago moved to NYC. For more information check out www.dylandrazen.com.

Free before 10pm.
$5 / +19 with valid ID
Phoenix Landing
Mass Ave. Central Square, Cambridge
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bend backward [11 Jul 2003|01:26am]
[ mood | crushed ]

i am stagnant and sterile. there are no words to describe the epiphany that devendra caused. i write myself off...I see someone of my age who is genius and i am nothing. what do i know? i don't know you. you drag me out. and i am out of place. you sing of beauty. i collapse in front.

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This Wednesday [09 Jul 2003|06:33pm]
Residents Night at the Phoenix Landing with myself and Chuck Caseroc...plus we will be celebrating Chuck's 10x3 th birthday so come down and say hello

Phoenix Landing
512 Mass Ave, Central Square
Cambridge MA
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the back of your head [07 Jul 2003|12:21am]
[ mood | sick ]

the world is full of ways to waste time...what we seek is some kind of compensation for what we put up with...

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[06 Jul 2003|01:26am]
what happens when you leave and i am here...you make me laugh...tell me about that which i cannot understand. when no one comes around and i can't afford to find you i will be very sad, selfish...not worth a thing...and you leave
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fuck me [05 Jul 2003|12:48am]
[ mood | drunk ]

so tonight was the fucking fourth of july...another stupid holiday. celebrate freedom from myself and all the ignorance that surrounds me. i met up with kris to watch the fireworks. how stupid. we proceeded to go to deluxe afterwards to get drinks. then kris lost her phone and i lost my house keys...so i decided that i would break into my apartment...not through the windows but by breaking the door down with my manly strength...so now i have huge bruises all over my arms and back...and my door is fucked to shit...fucked to shit. i have to call the landlord tomorrow to beg for a spare key...if he asks about the damages when i move out hopefully i will be able to convince him that someone tried to break into my apartment while i was away...until then i am going to try and repair the door myself. it barely closes and i don't know how badly i fucked up the deadbolt. whatever...another stupid idea when you're drunk. cheers to me.

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back to... [02 Jul 2003|10:22am]
and i finished my organic chemistry class yesterday. a month and a half of bullshit. i will be celebrating tonight at the Landing...alone or together...let's see if we can get back to falling down and bleeding on you.
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[ mood | crazy ]


Tonight at the Phoenix Landing is DJ SOLAR (pacificsound / bionic) from San Francisco. Solar joined up with the Pacific Sound / Sunset Crew and within his first year at these legendary parties he developed he developed his unique style, drawing on influences from the deep and funky San Francisco sounds, the futuristic techno-soul of Detroit, and the jack-tracks of Chicago. In addition to the Pacific Sound events, Solar is also a resident at Shattered (monthly party at DNA lounge) and Bionic (Sunday nights at The Top). He has performed around the nation in such places as Hawaii, Seattle, and New York, and has just recently graced the famous REX Club in Paris, France. By day Solar can be found working at Primal Records, in Berkeley, California. Opening set by Redlight resident Chuck Caseroc...For more information please visit www.pacificsound.net or www.redlightmusic.com

$5 / +19 with valid ID

The Phoenix Landing
512 Mass Ave. Central Square
Cambridge, MA

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[27 Jun 2003|12:39pm]
Happy Deathday!
Your name:delicate cut
You will die on:Sunday, March 27, 2022
You will die of:Fall Down Stairs
Created by Quill
5 comments|post comment

moodmusic [26 Jun 2003|12:44am]
[ mood | drunk ]

thank you to everyone who came out tonight to hear sasse, who should be my new best friend because he's cool as shit and made me realize i'm not an alcoholic...i just drink like a european. it's more like a sport. remember when i shattered glass all over you? remember when i made the german guys try PBR for the first time and they loved it...i know you're gonna go to nyc and ask for it. just think of me.

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[24 Jun 2003|11:23pm]
[ mood | bloodletting ]

i am not what you want. there's no telling how long. i've checked. i am not the one for you. go figure that out. there's no eyes in your own head. at least i cannot see them. i'll be here. i'll get nothing tonight.

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sunohara youri is suzanna erica [24 Jun 2003|12:08am]
[ mood | sore ]

In this position of object as catastrophe, thought lives the annihilation that constitutes it as a vertiginous and infinite fall, and thus has not only catastrophe as its object; its very structure is a catastrophe--it is itself absorption in the nothingness that supports it and at the same time slips away. Something immense is liberated from all sides with the magnitude of a cataract, surging forth from unreal regions of the infinite, sinking into them in a movement of inconceivable force. The mirror that, in the crash of telescoping trains, suddenly slashes open one's throat is the expression of this imperative--implacable--but already annihilated irruption...Catastrophe--lived time--must be represented ecstatically.

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[16 Jun 2003|10:33pm]
[ mood | horny ]

pride kicked my ass. i woke a little before noon and packed two forties and a bottle of champagne in my bag and headed down towards tremont to meet cocktail hour for the parade. i passed out drinks to marino...private stock. only the best for my bitch. and proceeded to get drunk. drunk enough to take blue donkey dong into the parade, forty in one hand, dong in the other, and celebrate my pride by jumping around and slapping people on the head with it. i suppose there are a few photos of that around somewhere. blue dong is in my living room. i remember sticking it in my pant pocket and through the button fly and running around and sticking people in the ass. yes, you. we went to jaques afterwords for drinks and cracked open the bottle of champagne on the street where all of cocktail hour celebrated. at the block party i remember throwing up a few times. kris caught me with my hand to my mouth holding a fistful of puke...this was after i had already threw up on some fags leg. she tried to send me home in a cab. tried...remember when bree thought it was gross that i wiped spit in her hair? at least i didn't throw up down your leg. you would've done more than punch me in the balls. but i like being punched in the balls. no wait, i like balls. i was broke by midafternoon and demanded that people fill blue donkey dong with coors so i could drink out of that. thank you to all that made a contribution to keep my faggot ass drunk the entire afternoon. i remember some woman grabbing me and bringing me to her husband when i had the dildo in my pants and yelling...'see, why can't you be hot like him AND have a piece like that?' this amused me. i remember seeing you and you were so friendly. then i told you i was throwing up on people and you walked away. this is because you are stupid and it took so long for me to understand. but i get it now i do. at vapor i don't remember much. i know that i was late to play my set and it was a good thing that kris called me to wake me up because i would have slept through it. i remember it was the third time that day that i was drunk. i never quite feel up to par playing music that i'm not really accustomed to...that means house. i took out a bunch of dave's old jams...come over to my place, walk away, some old joshua record on tweekin...but it doesn't really flow with the freak shit that i like...in the dark we live, legion...whatever. it was over and done with and i was dry humping marino several times before the night was through...then she bit me. i still have the mark. i hope it never goes away.

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[08 Jun 2003|11:46pm]
hwang's taxi stinks of rotten fruit and noodles. no really. it's stuck to the bottom of my shoe in a sauce. i'm glad that when you saw it you didn't say it. it is good to forget that you can play me as well as i do. maybe this time. the rest...to you, we all fall. silly whores. it's my mess. you go look for yours.
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[08 Jun 2003|12:36am]
she took a bullet meant for me
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you are a funny bear [06 Jun 2003|01:57am]
[ mood | hate ]

fire walk with me makes me warm. i need drugs. bring me your drugs.

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[03 Jun 2003|11:40pm]
[ mood | nostalgic ]

tonight the kooky scientist became my friend. i went for drinks at the paradise bar with niq and bree before the ravonettes. apparently bree had been drinking all afternoon so by the second song that the ravonettes played she and niq left. this was because, according to her, all the songs sounded the same...or like something she had heard before. this may be due to the fact that their first ep was written all in Bflat minor...i liked listening to people complain on the train ride home how it was all so similar...it's all in the same key you stupid fucks. of course it's going to sound like something you thought you heard five minutes ago....i know that i fall in love everyday. and sometimes two or three times every night. after the show i took the train to the opening of another stupid faggot club with stupid faggot music. cash my chips in senor. this is the end. i miss getting high. i miss being stupid. i miss coming home to my chronic and feeling like everything is ok even when its not. its time to run to chinatown and buy a bag. to remember who i am...because you make me smile you silly plant

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hexenzsene [31 May 2003|12:48am]
[ mood | bleeding ]

things that i did tonight: drank beer with caseroc at bukowski's...went on a pub crawl with a bunch of people that i don't know very well...except maybe bree. things that i realized: having three cookies will make even the most experienced drinker shitfaced. organic chem will be the death of me. i am as bored with my life as i am with this song. with every passing day i grow to loathe this city more and more...as i grow to continually hate myself. dirt is matter in the wrong place. thought is mind in the wrong place. and matter is mind, so thought is dirt. you shitheads should keep on thinking, maybe one day you'll discover that which you thought you'd never understand

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kittens all wrapped in cement [29 May 2003|12:24am]
[ mood | mellow ]

the taxi ride home two way radio something about some girl who was drunk...passed out in a cab. was a bit worried that schwilly had forgot he had to play tonight. i couldn't play for two hours, not enough wax. called everyone to find a phone number, but hippies are hard to get in contact with. so many girls tonight. fashionable. am wondering what promotional tactics are in use to attract such a pretty crowd. too bad no boys. girls in love...like that ladomat record. chuck's foot is busted. boy needs an x-ray. he is affectionate because...he kisses you because he saved your life

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