Do you know who you are? We do. YES. We know who you are - we know WHAT you are. We know what you want - WE WANT YOU TO HAVE IT. Join this tribe - we'll turn you on to it. OH GOD. OH YES.

The authors, publisher, editors, advertisers, employees and associate contributors to this website, as well as any individual, agency, force, or thing that wishes or requires to be included in this disclaimer, hereby state an emphatic refusal to be held as responsible for any effect or lack thereof occurring to any entity, legal, mortal, or otherwise in any time frame, dimension, or state of consciousness as a result of any action or inaction contemplated, planned, undertaken, or performed as a result of reading, viewing, or otherwise perceiving the information contained on this site, documents associated with it, any fraction thereof, or any work containing such.

All information contained in or for or displayed on this site in whatever form is the sole and exclusive property of its creators, who enthusiastically reserve all rights to its exhibition or duplication, in part or whole, in any other venue or in any form.

The administrators of this website strongly caution potential viewers that information and communications are contained on it; if you are unwilling or unable to responsibly negotiate the dangers of information and communications, or are prohibited by law from viewing websites, please do not view this material.

Sigh. We have some things we need to discuss. Serious... things. Look, I don't like the expression on your face, already, OK? Could we please just tone it down? Please? Jesus. All right. Look:

What I'm saying is not necessarily "intuitive", right? Like, you might think "well that's just not so, obviously" but actually I want you to try and believe that it IS so. Because it is. Considering the source - that's what you're doing, I know you, I know who you ARE okay? - but look: it's not that I'm asking you to "respect me" or whatever, I'm just TELLING you, okay? For your own edification.

Atlanta is the home of all originality.

I mean, it's actually truly the birthplace of anything worth anything. Really though, it's odd that other cities get this rep for being all awesome or arty or whatever, but when you get there it's just a bunch of conformists and sob stories and working too hard to pay for a tiny filthy room in the worst part of town where everybody hates you or at least pretends to because that's supposedly cool.

When you meet a REAL person out there - turns out they're either from Atlanta or recently transplanted their schtick to/from there.

Fire artists? Please. We INVENTED that routine. We've already moved on to more combustible things than you can ever imagine. That's right - we DIGESTED it and everybody else is only just catching up. You know what that makes them, technically? Hah. Think about it.

PLUS: we have frikkin COOOOL accents. Ask one of us a question and regardless of the answer it will be cinematic because EVERYTHING WE SAY SOUNDS TRUE.

We're "lulling" you.

What else did we invent...? Oh yeah:

bodypaint, "tribal" (you heard me), fat shoelaces, goth, ummmmm, and other things. We invented all that. Seriously. Forget England, forget what you heard. Forget Seattle and Amsterdam. This is where it started, whatever it is. Martial arts started here - did you know that? Classical music, also. Tattooing, swing dancing, beer, hairlessness, stainless steel, pretending to be angry while riding the train - all that stuff came from here, originally.

¡~MR. PURE LIVES IN ATLANTA~!

HAH! We're too much for you to handle, face it. We actually cut each other for fun, drink lighter fluid and anti-freeze, and then go out smashing windows - ON OUR OWN HOUSES. Get it?

Our gay clubs can BEAT THE LIVING HELL out of your gay clubs. San Francisco? Ninja, please: I'll put my man here against FIFTEEN of your insulated self-aware trustafarian prostate-therapists, do you hear me? They're going to RUN BACK TO THE BAY CRYING, and we're going to LAUGH. But we'll see you July, dawg. Cool. Pool tournament? This old bulldagger-memaw from Cabbagetown will kick -all- of your asses. Know your role! (We coined that phrase.)

So look: I'm tired of all this hating on haters in this gigantic small town. We need to mix this scene up. Don't hate the game - flout the rules. Yuppies, rednecks, thugs, weird overeducated self-conscious twenty-five year olds combining all these artificial cultures into some bizarre self-parodying reverse double anti-racist statement, we have Buddy's. Buddy's!!! Have you SEEN the ice cream selection there?? Forget about Kroger, bitches, we have Buddy's. That one dude in there is pretty cool - over on North / N Highland? You know? The dark olive-skinned young guy with the glasses. Dude actually styled me by ignoring the lack of fifteen cents on a dollar purchase. That's what Atlanta is all about: cool eastern dudes letting you slide on fifteen cents. Rock! If it had been a ten dollar purchase, it would have been a dollar-fifty. See? The dude essentially opened his register and handed me 150$. I love this town. Tip: the Dove pints will ruin you. Stick to B&Js unless it's a special occasion or you're trying to forget about the endless pain of living, the disappointments. So many.

It's not really my fault - whatever you're feeling. You are the architect of your own house. I'm not even a less-than-minimum-wage illegal laborer on your sunroof; you need to work this out for yourself. All right? Now hand me the pliers. I am the devil. I am the DEVIL. Hah!

HA.

Hey they're going to put a parking deck in Piedmont Park. Piedmont Parking - isn't it wonderful?

All Tribal Bellydance, All The Time.



Hahahahahaaaaaa, ahem.

Just kiddin! Jeez!

Oh yeah uh post things about things you're doing or whatever. Fight the powerless.

http://atlantadark.tribe.net