The Causey Way: Atomic Cafe, Saturday, Mar 18

Wednesday Night

The Causey Way

Atomic Cafe, Saturday, Mar 18

There's nothing lonelier than an empty fetish hangout. And when I hobbled into the Atomic Cafe at 7:45pm and Austin's home for the profoundly pierced was positively vacant, it seemed hard to fathom that the dark, dank evil that permeated the black walls of this near-empty bondage crib would give way to the light. But on this night, the Atomic Cafe would see light like no other. Despite the surly rank and defile of an over-testosterinized security team and a crap sound system "with the devil in it," the Causey Way rocked the flock. The "ACE" or Aural Communications and Entertainment division of the Causey Compound from Gainesville, Florida, were all clad in white: the Button, the Truth, Dr. St. Causey, Boy Causey, Causey himself, and somebody else probably named Causey, assembled on the altar festooned with candle and guitar, ivy and Moog. The wall of sound that hit the faithful was a Jericho-jolting combination of synthesizer wail and guitar rumble, the voices like those of Biafran angels. Too bad the lovely lady Causey's mike was for shit, because she croons some soothingly mother-of-God-like vocals that we unfortunately totally missed. The ACE blazed through five hymns from the new Alternative Tentacles CD With Loving and Open Arms, one from their first WWCD, and six others from God knows where. I should probably interject here that I was so eager to see the Causey Way that I completely ignored my doctor's orders to keep off my broken foot. But I couldn't help myself. Could Causey heal me? He knelt and touched my sweaty forehead. He gave me $1. I swear, for a flash, that foot could bear my entire weight. But then the reality of the surging crowd set in. For a few moments, I felt just like Sally Simpson and took great care to not get my face bashed in. Then it was all over. Blissed out beyond belief, I hobbled home.

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