Suicide Club: Getcher Tickets

A week from today I’ll sit in for a talk with Signman: John Law — I see it’ll cost eight bucks to get in, but we’ll shoot for entertaining. John Q. Publick almost never gets to hear us rattling off yarns about the exploits of The Suicide Club, so here’s your chance.

As part of the gallery exhibit John — a.k.a. Sebastian Melmoth, alias Vito Lawtoni, among many other monikers — has a large spread on the Fatty Arbuckle Kidnapping Caper we pulled off in 1981. The last major Initiation into the Club occurred mere blocks from the gallery, in the Fox Theatre — at the time derelict, dust-choked — one of my two closest brushes with death in that secret society occurred that night in the Fox. And John was off hitchhiking across America when an entire group of us almost bought our tickets early in 1977.

While you’re on scene you can check out the other exhibits, such as the neon smiley face John and cohorts hid inside Burning Man (Larry Harvey went nuts). Or the neon vulva exhibited in an all-women’s art show by, who was it, Samantha Melmoth?

So many hidden identities. A legion of pranksters. Or a fistful of pranksters, a legion of pranks.

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