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Fear and Loathing In
The Midwest…
Confessions by Alex Zander, Dementia 66 and Nehferet

Summer 1996

   On July 11th, the electro-sex punk band, MACE, returned to Indy for a concert at the Emerson Theater. Naturally, the band stayed at the M.K. Ultra office and my home. As always, it wasn’t just a concert. It was a celebration, but not one the conservative good ‘ol boy church going citizens of Indianapolis can appreciate.

   Rather than telling you how great the shows were in Indianapolis, Cleveland, OH and Columbus, OH, I thought I’d give three versions of what happened those three nights and four days with MACE.

   Also included in this Diary of a Mad Band are AOL postings from the MACE folder (Keyword: MUSIC/members bulletin board/alternative/general) following the long weekend. If the descriptions you are about to read are vague, it’s only because they are reflections of our memories. Enjoy the trip.   -Alex Zander


3:30pm Before MACE arrives, my assistant Jeff asks me to be sure this time they don’t get water all over the floor when showering. Last time they were here, our floor leaked into our laundry room because they didn’t put the shower curtain in and the bathroom flooded and went in thru the vents,

3:45pm  M.K. Ultra office, Indianapolis, IN. The MACE van arrives. From within, comes Peter, James, Rob, Ben, and non-member, Justin. The office in located on the east side, next door to a fire station. The locals who still haven’t gotten use to the appearance of the M.K. Staffers seem shocked by the sight of even more leather clad, black haired, Goth/Industrial/post punkers. They can’t figure whether or not we’re all homosexuals or devil worshippers.

4:00pm I caught Ben mopping the bathroom floor. He flooded it again.

5:00pm Nehferet arrives. She drives Justin and I to a very redneck part of Indy to pick up the ceremonial keg of beer.

6:00pm Justin, Nehferet and myself arrive at the Emerson Theater to tap the keg and help the acts. Bitter Harvest, Sutur, and MACE set up. Again, the locals appear to be and are speechless. With the exception of Bitter Harvest (Indy-based metal band), the other acts entourage seem almost Addams Familyish to the employees at the concert hall.

7:00pm The entire M.K. staff is in attendance. The doors open and some people filter inside. On screen is a collection of blood and gore scenes from H.G. Lewis films. The patrons stare in sheer shock.

7:30pm Lisa Baker (the Underground TV show) arrives. Also, Scott Hargrave (Sound Groove TV) arrives and begins taping backstage footage of the bands indulging in beer consumption. The TV people are capturing the means of the mood to come. It’s getting crazy.

8:00pm Bitter Harvest takes the stage with their 80’s blend of screaming metal. Singer Chucky Harvest exclaims. “I hate that dangly ass, staring at your shoes. college boy music. We’re here to play tight pant wearing, high school drop out, staring up in your face, loud as fuck music.” The crowd is not as enthusiastic as the vocalist and just sit there. Justin grabs the mic and shouts at the audience to get up and nobody responds. He then proceeds to pull them out of their seats physically to the front of the stage. Bitter Harvest finishes their set and Sutur begin to set up their stage.

?:?? am/pm This is where things start getting hazy. Toxic Tommy gets up and makes a speech about how he was paid $60.00 by some yuppies to leave a local bar because they didn’t like his hairstyle, and he announces my bid for Mayor.

As I take the stage to greet the audience, I find myself surrounded by dry ice smoke as well as cheers and applause from my audience. (I take it I already have their vote). I make a short (profanity laced) introduction of the bands. I’ve assumed the attitude of Peter Steele / Andrew Dice Clay. I assure the crowd, whom are obviously entertainment starved, I will continue to bring my intense shows to the area.

I introduce Sutur and stand in amazement as they open their set with a horrific scene. There is evil carnival music playing as the vocalist, Brandon, is pulled from a box as though he is a disfigured string puppet dressed as a morbid clown. Toxic has to take his daughter to the lobby, as she is frightened.

MACE takes the stage and gives the Emerson Theater a show it has never hosted the likes of.

The party returns to my home where a woman puked in my bed, a video interview by Lisa Baker was shot in my office, and I screamed madly at a lot of locals to leave because one of them supposedly let my cat out (I found out later my cat never left my room someone hallucinated it). Somewhere at this point, I pass out. Only after Justin has mopped the vomit off my bedroom floor.

8:00am The next thing I see is the sun shining through my blinds and I crawl from my lair and make my way out to a house full of black clad guests. I put on the first pot of coffee and open my empty refrigerator. All my food was gone and I notice that the only trace of food left are the bits of poultry clinging to the bones of the wings I devoured the night before.

Noon We do some photos. I return the keg, pick up some more beer, and proceed to embark on what will become about an eighteen hour binge.

3:00pm Friday. We caravan to Columbus, OH. Dementia is driving and Janes is in the front with her. Justin and I are in the back with a cold case of Michelob and a bottle of T-Bird. Type O blasts on the stereo and the rest of MACE follow in the van. James takes one of Dementia’s pills even though I warn him against it.

6:00pm By the time we get to Columbus, James is wasted. From all reports, he passed out after dropping us off and only came to before they took the stage in Cleveland.

(From this point, all I remember is hanging out with Damon Zex and the Arachna Goddess, my brother Blue, and Arturo DeLeon of Martyr Colony).

We all visit Kool Kats Klub where I was later thrown out for slam dancing (The owner had me brought back in when he discovered “yours truly”was kicked out).

Afterwards we visited a few of my favorite lesbian bars, and then showed up at a “real” punk rock beer bash. (Only Pabst Blue Ribbon at this party. Heineken…Fuck that shit – Stephanie). The last thing I can barely recall is my brother Blue and Justin arguing with the cops because they were busted beating up a newspaper machine.

9:00am Saturday I wake up at Sheri and Denise’s home (How’d I get there, and where is Justin?)

Noon I find my way to Bart Mann’s home, where the barbecue is preparing, Sutur is there, but MACE is running very late. Even Nehferet shows up before them and she’s four hours late.

4:00pm The buzz is still going. The members of Binge are there along with cavalcade of other guests. Still no MACE.

7:00pm MACE arrives. They look very worn. I don’t know how they do it (How do I do it?)

8:00pm We all go to the venue and Thatcher throws out Brandon’s and Chris’s girlfriends. They’re underage.

Four bands on the bill and a lot of organizing is going on. Meanwhile, I’m making rounds, catching up with old friends and girlfriends (Last time I was here I was a techno / rave DJ). Somewhere in the evening I meet Sherilyn70 who later kidnaps me. But in the meantime, I’m dancing, drinking, and dementing.

2:00am I jump into a truck with Joe, Arturo, and Justin and we go to Joe’s where seven and a half cases of beer and a half gallon of Jagermeister await. The MACE, Suture, and Binge crews arrive. We listen to Hellfire Club loudly and destroy our state of being.

10:00am I awake in a strange surrounding. There is a cat on my back. A woman sits next to me typing away on a computer. The sun is too bright. My headache has not yet set in because I am still drunk.

I stumble about the house to trip over a stack of gay men porno mags. I take a second to look at my host. Okay, she has all the female parts, so I guess I haven’t seen violated.

1:00pm I call Joe’s. No answer. Has everyone left me?

2:00pm They answer. I go to Joe’s via my brother Blue. Everyone looks haggard. Richard Kern films are on the tube. Ahh! A home away from home. Joe sure is cool. Joe Cool!!! Time for a cold one.

I’m asked if it was I that put a dead, bloated cat on Heather’s car…I didn’t even know of a dead cat.

4:00pm One for the road. I climb into Dementia’s car, lay back, and prepare for my three hour journey home.

7:00pm Sleep. Well needed. Much deserved. Thanks MACE. You guys rule. Not only on stage, but in real life.

                                                                                         -Alex Zander


Thursday, 8:30pm Feeling rather apprehensive due to a falling out with Alex earlier in the week, I approached the Emerson with trepidation. Nikos was offering moral support as we were flung into the darkened theater. I stumbled through the darkness, steeling myself to face Alex. I had thrown him some rather harsh words the night before and was prepared for an onslaught of tension and stress. I had decided to quit M.K. Ultra for personal reasons (fear not, dear readers, for obviously, I changed my mind) and felt like this night would either be my last hurrah or complete hell…My chances were 50/50.

As soon as I saw Alex, his face became frozen. He showed not a hint of thoughts, nor emotions, that I could normally read so well. “The guys are in the back,” he said and then greeted Niklos warmly. He nodded in my direction and mumbled, “there’s a keg back there…you can have some.” No smile, no lecture, nothing. I wasn’t prepared for this anti-reaction. I tried to explain myself to him and he only pushed me away saying we would talk about it later.

I went backstage to see the boys and Heather (keyboardist for Sutur) – tons of black leather vinyl in a tiny, smoke-filled room. Everyone was having problems applying their makeup in the sweltering room and they all seemed a bit tense. The atmosphere of the group didn’t improve much through Bitter Harvest’s set, as once every couple of minutes an explosion would go off that was so loud I kept looking for blood on me, feeling I had to have been shot!

Things made a turn for the better as Sutur began their set. What a surprise they had in store for their debut! Brandon (lead singer) was dressed in a stark, black and white clown suit and Marilyn Manson-esque makeup. He was attached via chain to little pulleys on this large wooden frame. Heather had ahold of the other ends of the chains and as she pulled on them, Brandon’s lifeless body was reborn as a marionette.The music echoed throughout the Emerson…a very dark, very evil sounding circus anthem that reminded me of the music from Suspiria. Fog filled the stage as the music builded and their debut performance began. Heather took her place behind the keyboards and managed to look menacing and innocent at the same time, while Chris (guitarist) stood to the side and played his guts out. Their set wasn’t understood very well by the white trash east-siders who just happened to wander in…but overall I’d say it was great for their first performance.

But this is where the fun begins! I pulled Alex aside right before the boys went on and told him that I wasn’t going to quit. That we would talk about all of this later, when we were sober, but that I really wanted to work our problems out. He smiled and then belched in my face and gave me a hug. What can I say…That’s Alex!

My best friend, Shiela, showed up just as MACE took the stage, and we planted ourselves on the dance floor in front of Rob X. We couldn’t stop moving our bodies as we laughed and danced…my tension disappeared (with the help of some little blue pills) and I has a blast. Alex even danced with me, wrapping his arm around me and slurring drunkenly in my ear…just like old times.

The boys were such a sight on stage, all lithe and sweaty in leather, velvet, and vinyl, and then they did “My Little Whore”, which had been running nonstop though my head for the last week! I ended up finding myself in a trance-like state dancing with Shiela and then I looked up to find a man with a camera filming us. That was it, if I am drunk and in front of a camera…I have a tendency to go nuts. I don’t exactly remember what happened (those little blue pills again!) but Alex swears he has my chest (clothed?) on video now…with him commenting on the fact that, “yes indeed, they are REAL.”

After the show we caravanned to Alex’s house (and scared the firemen next door to death!) We were loud and drunk and there were so many people milling about. The last straw was Pseudo-Woman (I call her that because everything from her tits and tan to her hair color, nose and waist line are completely 100% artificial) who went on a liquor run because she, “couldn’t possibly drink beer.” I stayed about 20 minutes more before deciding to try and escape to a quieter place. James decided to come too. As we were leaving they were breaking out more video cameras downstairs and I think there was some sort of orgy going on in the van, it was shaking when we drove off.

Friday, 12 noon

Tired eyes, barely open as harsh white sunlight sears my brain. Thank Satan for whomever invented sunglasses. It’s Friday and I had to call in sick for work. As I started feeling better, James began to talking about their show in Cleveland tonight. I came up with a brilliant plan…a good friend of mine from when I lived in New York now lived in Cleveland. I could go and visit her and then get to hang out with MACE some more. I packed a bag and took James back to Alex’s.

It looked like someone ought to have declared Alex’s place a war zone…and there were casualties all over the living room floor. The black circles underneath everyone’s eyes rivaled their black makeup smeared all over their faces. It wasn’t a very pretty sight! Nehferet and Peter were sitting on the porch, smoking cigarettes and looking like they had been up all night. Wearily people began to wake and peel themselves off the floor and complain of being hungry. Justin and Billy went to the grocery and came back with six of those really cheap, rectangular, cafeteria pizzas. They were inhaled in seconds. Somehow when Alex walked into the house with a case of beer, everyone seemed to come back to life. Only a few more minutes and we were on the road.

Justin, James, and Alex are in my car, while Peter, Rob, Ben and Billy are in the van with the equipment. Justin and Alex are in the backseat getting trashed on the 12 pack of Michelob Alex snuck on board. James, possibly feeling the need to fit in with those two misfits in the back, starts slamming beers as fast as I can blink. The sun is making me sleepy as I drive, so I asked James to get the speed out of my backpack. I have been taking speed forever. Not that I’m proud of this, but it is essential to what is about to happen. I am used to taking A LOT of speed. I have built my way up to it. James decides that he wants some speed too…and so, he matches me the entire way to Cleveland. If I took six, he took six. If I took four more, he took four more, and so on.

Type O Negative was blaring from my speakers (Alex and Justin were alternating between praying to the god of my speakers and flashing their asses to the van behind us). We dropped them off in Columbus and continued our trek to Cleveland. Only a mile or two out of Columbus we hit a major traffic jam and are stopped in the middle of the highway for at least half an hour (45 minutes). Peter, Rob and Ben got out of the van and were dancing in the street and yelling at people through Peter’s megaphone. I think we were all just a little bit slap happy from our lack of sleep and grueling road trip in the hot, hot sun with no air conditioning.

Eventually we make it to Cleveland. We’re a couple of hours from showtime and go straight to the club. As soon as we park the car, James rushes inside to go to the bathroom. I wait for him outside and when he comes out he looks like shit. He is sick as hell from all of the speed and beer, he needs to lie down. Suffice to say that I think he learned his lesson. He was passed out and / or physically ill (poor thing made a mess of his t-shirt) all the way up to five minutes before they went on stage. I hung out with Billy, Ben, Peter, and Rob, and gave them fashion advice. Ben and Peter went out to set up James’ drums for him and everyone kept asking me, “What did you GIVE him???” “Nothing!”, I said. “He must have taken some speed from my bag when I asked him for some…But I didn’t GIVE him anything!”

No one thought he would be able to play during the show, and Peter was not happy at all. In the meantime, I let Rob borrow my vinyl, gun-metal short skirt. He wore that with fishnets, a fishnet shirt, rubber zippered vest and leather harness. Damn! He looked better in that skirt than I normally do! Pete borrowed my Sisters shirt and Billy took one of my chokers and bondage belt. It’s a good thing I was along…or my wardrobe at least.

James managed to pull himself together long enough to get through the set. I don’t know how he did it, he was so sick!  The show was good (although lacking energy), the crowd wasn’t great because they went on so late (1am?) Overall I think the boys were just glad to be done. My friend did manage to come to the show, but we weren’t allowed to stay at her place because of her roommate. Pete ended up finding some girl that we could stay with and we were set. We had a place to shower (sort of – the water in the tub took at least six hours to drain between use) and James had a place to sleep his sickness off.

I hung out for awhile, until the people we stayed with started playing some strange music that really began to annoy me. I decided to go outside because it felt like rain. I went out to the van and found Rob out there smoking. We hung out most of the night talking and such, watching the storm move in and hoping it would rain so we could shower without having to stand in six inches of dirty water. I laughed so hard that night over the stupidest stuff, those little inside jokes that you try to explain to other people and they just don’t get it because they weren’t there. You’ve been there before. I ended up passing out in the van and awoke to birds chirping and people going about their Saturday morning business.

Saturday 3pm

We ended up leaving Cleveland later than expected. The drive to Columbus was rather short and uneventful (except for taking a wrong turn off the highway at James’ suggestion), We made it to Columbus where we has all but missed the cookout in MACE’s honor. We had to rush to the club and unload all the equipment and carry it up these steep iron stairs. There was a problem with some of the band members being underage, and I thought there was going to be a fight. Everyone seemed stressed and tense beyond belief. I was feeling rather stressed myself, having one of my anxiety attacks. Nehferet, Heather, Rob, Peter, Ben and I decided to go “meditate” in the van for a little bit, trying to ease some of the tension. I took some more of my medication to quell my anxiety attack and sat back to enjoy the show. Sutur’s set was unfortunately all fucked up. I don’t know who was to blame, sometimes shit like that happens. As my patience was wearing, then MACE took the stage. I had so much energy that night, I danced all the way through MACE’s set. They were wonderful, even for the third night in a row!

After the show, we started to load up the van and there was this riot outside. Cops on horseback were trying to clear people out of the streets and ironically enough the smell of mace was in the air.

Sunday 2am

We made it out alive and stayed at Alex’s friend Joe’s house. I got completely trashed (what’s new?) and woke up to hear how someone had put a dead cat on Heather’s car. The first person I thought of was Alex, but he swears he didn’t do it. I don’t know what to believe because I think even IF Alex DIDN’T do it, he wishes he had. The boys said their goodbyes and piled into the van for a long drive home. Promises of doing this again soon were exchanged and they were off.

We left soon afterwards, exhausted and happy. We had been maced.

                                                                                        -Dementia 66


July 11, 1996

It’s somewhere around 6:00pm when I park my car in Alex Zander’s driveway and hurry towards his house. I glance back at the white van parked beside my car, hoping it’s the one the Pittsburg band MACE is using and further hoping that the guys are already inside. Suddenly a man with long matte black hair and a half empty bottle of beer in his hand erupts from the door toward which I’m heading with all the finesse of some wild beast in the forest. He wants something from me! No, not my pale-skinned body, not even the purse which I’m clutching to me like a baby whose life is being threatened. He seems to want me to drive him somewhere, at least that’s what I’m getting from the wild gesticulations of his hands and the steady stream of words emanating from his lips.  “Are the guys here yet”, I ask, cutting him off in mid-sentence.  

“Oh, yeah!”, Alex exclaims. “Come on in and say hello to them!”

Now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve been waiting since May 2nd for this, since the night I interviewed MACE for both SIN (a Nine Inch Nails fanzine) and Sound Groove TV. Alex escorts me inside where all band members are sprawled around the living room. They look tired, hot and grumpy but I’m so happy to see them I don’t care. We exchange quick hellos before Alex drags me and someone he introduces as Justin back to my car to pick up as keg of beer.

What is Alex getting me and my car into? He assures us this is the cheapest place in town to get a keg, and I can fucking believe it. I can’t decide if I should stay with my car to protect it or if I should go in with them for my own protection. I opt for the latter since I can always get another car but bodies are somewhat harder to come by.

Somehow we survive, I suspect its because other people are afraid of us; our black clothing, Alex’s menacing tattoos, that aura of semi-dangerous mystique we make no effort to dispel. Why should we? We’re walking out of that neighborhood (and I use the word loosely) liquor store in one piece.

Later that evening, backstage at the Emerson, the mood is a convivial one. People pass in and out of the dressing room chattering, drinking, getting in the mood to party. Peter, the lead singer of MACE, is having trouble applying his black eyeliner while holding the mirror at the same time. I see the chance to be helpful and grab the mirror while Alex grabs my camera and records the moment for prosperity (or perhaps this issue of M.K. Ultra). The keg of beer flows freely, though the cup supply grows low, and spirits seem to rise accordingly.

After rousing performances by Sutur and Bitter Harvest, MACE finally takes the stage by storm. Justin, self-appointed rabble-rouser, has managed to coerce nearly everyone out of their seats and onto the dance floor by this point. Not that they seem to mind very much. Behind the screen of his breadrack-cum-cage, Peter is all primal seduction, singing, “I lick sugar from your face” all the while wiping sweat from his own.

I’m relaxed enough to let go and dance, so that’s exactly what I do. But I’ve not stopped to consider Alex’s mental state, and he’s heading straight for me now with that familiar fucked-up look in his eyes. There’s no time to get away! He sweeps me way up in the air so I’m forced to wrap my legs around his waist, and then begins dancing around with me like a recent escapee from some psychiatric ward. As he whirls me faster and faster, my purse flies open and disgorges its contents all over the dance floor. People scramble to pick up my lipstick, my compact, my eyeliner. I breathe a silent thank you to whatever powers-that-be there wasn’t anything more personal in there, if you know what I mean.

When I begin struggling to get away, Alex hisses in my ear, “Stay cool! We’re being taped!” I peak around his shoulder to find that, indeed, our old friend Scott of Sound Groove TV has his video camera trained on us. This changes everything. I’ll do just about anything in the name of Art, including making a total ass of myself. Wouldn’t anybody? Well, don’t answer that.

July 17, 1996

It’s late in the morning. Peter and I are sitting in the grass of Alex’s front yard, beneath the shade of some trees. He’s drinking coffee, I’m drinking Dr. Pepper. Just as long as its got caffeine. Next door at the firehouse, the firemen are lighting their grill in preparation for a cookout. Peter groans, he’s starving and any food in the house was apparently eaten during the night when Alex gobbled down about 20 chicken wings all by himself. We know this because he left the bones in a tray on the stove where trails of excited ants are even now converging, unable to believe their good fortune.

But it’s peaceful beneath these trees – the sky is blue, the clouds puffy, and Alex joins us with his own cup of coffee in hand. We sit there talking quietly, watching the firemen putter about while a slight breeze blows through our hair. There’s a feeling of camaraderie, unity in hunger, or some such thing. Alex places a wreathe woven out of some green leafy plant upon my head and its discovery compels Peter to begin eating it. I told you he was hungry!

Plans are being made. Dementia 66 is going to Cleveland with MACE, Alex is going early to Columbus where MACE will be appearing the next night, and I decide to go home and drive to Columbus after a good night’s sleep, despite Alex’s futile attempt to guilt-trip me into driving him that day. When he finds out he can hitch a ride with MACE to Columbus, he stops his pouting and writes down directions to the house where we are all to meet. All the way home I wonder if I should’ve gone to Cleveland along with MACE and Dementia 66 and decide yes, I should have, but there’s laundry to be done if I’m going to take along ten outfits for one night like I usually do. After all, I have a reputation to maintain.

July 13, 1996

I’m only about four hours late, having planned to arrive in Columbus by noon, but not actually getting there until 4:00pm. There is food, many thanks to Bart and Lori! Ribs, corn on the cob, and more chicken wings (these with actual meat on the bones)! MACE hasn’t arrived yet but the members of Sutur are busy taking showers and applying outrageous makeup for later. The house is hot and humid. I wait around several hours and then decide to find a hotel room, not being accustomed to getting ready for a night out with such a large audience, though Alex accuses me rather maliciously of having ulterior motives. My feelings are hurt by this injustice…..Not!

When we get to the Kool Kat’s Club about 8:30, I find everyone standing outside looking rather perturbed. As it turns out, no one under 21 is permitted in the place and both men in Sutur have brought underage girlfriends. Plus the club is on the third floor and the members of MACE are already lugging their equipment up a fire escape that looks like it should have been featured in the movie Iron Maze. The guys appear tired, hot and grumpy again. I’m beginning to appreciate the rock n’ roll lifestyle has its share of drawbacks as well as its perks.

Before the show starts we all pile into the MACE van and take a little drive in order to talk things out. Did I say talk? Well, whatever we did, no matter how illegal (and I’m not saying it was mind you), it must have worked because the bad energy has dissipated and we’re all anxious to party.

Alex is getting a head start on everyone it seems. I catch sight of him from time to time and every time I do he introduces me to someone new. The MACE men mostly stay backstage though occasionally one wanders out to stare in disbelief at the ten or so women with big hair (and tits) poured into tight Jersey dresses. If you look at them very long though, you start to feel dizzy, as if you’ve stumbled into a time warp, so they keep these forays down to a bare minimum.

Dementia’s getting ready to dance, I can tell by the fire burning in her eyes and by the way she is flexing her arms and legs as if in preparation for a marathon run. I’m doing the same, though for me it’s more an inner process, a psychological choice I make to abandon all dignity and assume the role of drunken fool. Speaking of drunken fools, Alex is already dancing, and as our eyes meet he makes a rather obscene gesture in my direction. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but I’m not. This is Zander in his element, the quintessential bad boy, the one your mother warned you to stay away from. Truth be told, I think I like him best this way, all wild hair and insolent eyes, looking for nothing but trouble.

Because I want to skip to the part about the party, I’ll let someone else talk about the Sutur and MACE sets, which are phenomenal by the way. However, I do want to mention the riot we emerge from the club into, and the policemen on horseback charging people on foot. James, the current drummer for MACE, is transformed into protective macho man at the sight, rounding up Dementia and me and pressing us close to the side of the van, warning us in a fatherly fashion not to leave the relative safety of its envisions. A policeman trots up to us and demands to know if we have a good reason for being there. We assure him we do; hell yes, we do! We’re with the band!

My car’s almost out of gas as is usually the case but, more importantly, Peter ad I can’t seem to agree on which direction we should go in. We pull into a nearby empty gas station to ask for assistance but the cashiers don’t seem to live in Columbus at all. All we get are blank looks and shrugs for out troubles, although finally someone sitting outside in a car straightens us out. Just then about five cars filled with loud music and shouting pull into the gas station so we hightail it for my car, deciding there’s enough gas in it to get us to the party.

When Peter says to you, “take this road. Trust me”, don’t! I’m sorry it’s necessary to say this but in the interest of truthful journalism I am obliged to. We drive down a winding suburban road for what seems like hours and though I’m enjoying Peter’s company, that needle poised on E is making me a little nervous. Call me a worry-wart. Suddenly the road ends. Peter and I look at each other. The map clutched in the hand featuring chipped black nail polish didn’t show anything like this. I bite my lip and try not to say anything (this is difficult) while I turn the car around.

A full tank of gas later, we pull up in front of a house where there seems to be an orgy going on out front. No, wait! That’s not an orgy, it’s the members of Sutur huddled together on the front lawn. We don’t want to know what they’re doing, so we hurry past them and in the front door of a luxurious suburban home.The party’s obviously been going on for awhile if one may draw conclusions from the rough-around-the-edges appearance of its attendees. James, in particular, comes to mind. I’m not sure why. Half-empty bags of taco chips and mustard-flavored pretzels are calling our names, “Peter! Nehferet! Over here!” We don’t struggle, giving into our bodies’ desires without a trace of guilt or shame.

A very eager and sensuous woman is pressing her breasts up against Alex in a way that gives me the ideas she likes him. And call me psychic, but I’m getting the sense that he likes her back. Soon after they both vanish, never to be seen by me again before I head back to Indy. I will later be given to understand that this woman kidnapped him away from the party but he, being of a forgiving nature, will ultimately decline to press charges against her.

Er…that’s all I can remember about the party. Someone else will have to fill in the missing blanks. The next thing I know it’s noon of the next day and time for me to return home, though I really don’t want to. In fact, I’m almost an hour outside of Columbus before I realize – duh! – I’m heading towards Cleveland instead on Indianapolis. Though I look for the van carrying MACE back to Pittsburgh, I never see it and eventually find my way home, due no doubt to the lack of Peter’s map-reading skills!

It will take me a week to recover fully from this little escapade. But it was well worth it! That’s why we’ll be back to Columbus on August 15th when MACE is scheduled to appear at the Mecca. I can hardly wait!




Date: 96-07-16 16:53:24 EDT

From: Climax gen

The Party? If you can remember a party, it probably wasn’t worth going!!! This must have been one hell of a party because I can’t remember a damn thing. Well, I’ll tell you that I remember. The beer was plentiful. The vocalist from Martyr Colony was there (this guy is super f___ing cool!), there were various illegal substances floating all about and someone really hated Sutur (ie. the dead cat). Alex (M.K. Ultra) an Peter (MACE) both disappeared for most of the night. I suspect the NEHF had something to do with this!!! Bart (Promoter) was f___ed up beyond Psycho status (which was really cool!). And when I woke up the next afternoon the party was still going, thanks to Alex.



Date: 96-07-17 08:34:42 EDT

From: Sherilyn70

Well, I’m very glad you liked Koolkat Club, that’s my very favorite hangout. I must say I didn’t even realize that there were bands playing that Saturday night when I walked in. I was very impressed. This was the very first time I had ever heard you guys play. Let me just say that Columbus was very impressed, all of my friends are still talking about it.I can’t wait until August at Mekka. And as for that party, I was there….I was dead by the next day.



Date: 96-07-17 08:36:31 EDT

From: Sherilyn70

The reason Alex disappeared was because I kidnapped him. It really was a great party!



Date: 96-07-17 19:25:02 EDT

From: Sherilyn70

Hey Nerf,

Glad I could be of some assistance. Seeing as how I did kidnap Alex I figured that I should own up to my own terrible sins. I plan to hang around here for a while. I just can’t wait until August when they come back to Columbus!


Subj: Re: terrible, terrible sins

Date: 96-07-17 19:30:56 EDT

From: Nehf

Tsk, tsk, tsk, Sherilyn.

You’ve come to the right place for sinning.


Subj: Re: Random MACE spotting

Date: 96-07-18 22:01:25 EDT

From: MK Satan

hey mace can you believe it i’m alive!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Satan lives!!!!!! so let me warn ya, we’re doing a story called 3 days with mace and its about sex drugs the devil pizza sex drugs beer lots of beer and its going to be testament of just how fun a time we had hosting you. I’m not leaving out the part about James passing out in the car either!!!!!! Did I mention sex drugs and beer? If you guys need me to leave anything out, certain details, let me know asap. The names of guilty parties other than MACE and me will be changed to save them from the wrath of the living rednecks of Indy (get the f*** out of my house). Eat the devils vagina!!!!!!!! See ya at Mecca. Tell Pete his vid is on the way.  Hey, James, did you get the Type O CD yet?

Sin………………cerely, MK Alex

Subj: Re: Random MACE spotting

Date: 96-07-19 09:56:15 EDT

From Climax gen

James didn’t pass out in the car!!! James got really sick a few hours later at Phantasy Night Club in Cleveland!!! Still played a kick ass show!!! EAT THE DEVILS P…..SSY!!! I heard a rumor that Alex from M.K. Ultra is moving his magazine back to Pittsburgh! Any confirmation on this? Can’t wait for the decadent story of life on the road with MACE. I bet it will surprise even us!