never mind this entry it is bullocks.
my hair was green or blue or something. his head was shaved and matt had a large mohawk with some strange things shaved into the side of his head. I put them there and I could not tell you what it meant.
these freaks sitting it in the middle of Golf Mill Mall. There was girl there as well, Julie I think her name was. she had short reddish brown hair and a very cliche plaid skirt covering fishnet stockings that had intentional rips, tears and runs, though I don't think she bought them that way, I am pretty sure she made them that way. I don't think I ever saw her again, if you don't count the masturbatory fantasies.
these fuck ups sitting in the middle of a mall in suburbs. someone needed a birthday present for a mother. the mall security guard approaches. we are unimpressed. he is on his best cop behavior. no punk talk gonna put him off.
he asks us to leave. we ask him why. he tells us there is a gum ball machine broken in the gum ball machine pagoda. we tell him we did not do it. he TELLS us to leave. other mall people of official stature approach. he tells us that we better leave. we tell him we did not do anything to a gum ball machine. we ask what evidence he has, beyond the fact that we look strange, that we had done this "thing" to the gum ball giver. he says we better leave.
I smile at him with purple gums and tongue and we leave with huge wads of gum in our mouths.
it was cold we waited for the bus and I sat across from the plaid skirt girl and watched her cross and uncross her legs.
being punk in 1990, when I was 16, was fun. I had no idea what the fuck was going on and I was scared a lot.
at least then punks had enemies that made it seem like an important thing. then it slowly turned in to a "group" where people would talk about "friendship" and "loyalty" and they could never really understand that I was going home and occasionally putting my step-dads .357 in my mouth. there was no way I could share that with them. the best part was when they told me "we will always be here for each other" and I said, "please. there is no way that is even close to true". and it turns out I was right and they are spread across the country doing various jobs that they fell in to. anyhow. I was scared a lot and they were not helping. but I always got the sense that I was there for different reasons than them.
they wanted to beat up communists, I wanted to be a communists.
oh, when we were boys. I sometimes imagine those people sitting around wishing that shit was that good now.
I certainly don't.
I have been thinking about "punk" a lot lately. and how so many people I know have no idea what it means. that it somehow got attached to music that has nothing to do with it. think socio-economic-political. ignore the music. Noam Chomsky is one of the most punk people that has ever been and I never saw him at a show once. then people just tell you it is "dead" whatever that means. think dissent. can dissent die? can challenge die? are we that jaded that the idea of testing things is actually what is dead? is agitation to get others to reconsider dead?
I don't have strange hair anymore. I have a beard and brown hair. I want to know what james thinks. or tracy. or laura. or tony.
this is my question: what is punk? (besides getting fucked in the ass in prison) and why am I and Dan Sinker so sure it is not dead.
-jon.
these freaks sitting it in the middle of Golf Mill Mall. There was girl there as well, Julie I think her name was. she had short reddish brown hair and a very cliche plaid skirt covering fishnet stockings that had intentional rips, tears and runs, though I don't think she bought them that way, I am pretty sure she made them that way. I don't think I ever saw her again, if you don't count the masturbatory fantasies.
these fuck ups sitting in the middle of a mall in suburbs. someone needed a birthday present for a mother. the mall security guard approaches. we are unimpressed. he is on his best cop behavior. no punk talk gonna put him off.
he asks us to leave. we ask him why. he tells us there is a gum ball machine broken in the gum ball machine pagoda. we tell him we did not do it. he TELLS us to leave. other mall people of official stature approach. he tells us that we better leave. we tell him we did not do anything to a gum ball machine. we ask what evidence he has, beyond the fact that we look strange, that we had done this "thing" to the gum ball giver. he says we better leave.
I smile at him with purple gums and tongue and we leave with huge wads of gum in our mouths.
it was cold we waited for the bus and I sat across from the plaid skirt girl and watched her cross and uncross her legs.
being punk in 1990, when I was 16, was fun. I had no idea what the fuck was going on and I was scared a lot.
at least then punks had enemies that made it seem like an important thing. then it slowly turned in to a "group" where people would talk about "friendship" and "loyalty" and they could never really understand that I was going home and occasionally putting my step-dads .357 in my mouth. there was no way I could share that with them. the best part was when they told me "we will always be here for each other" and I said, "please. there is no way that is even close to true". and it turns out I was right and they are spread across the country doing various jobs that they fell in to. anyhow. I was scared a lot and they were not helping. but I always got the sense that I was there for different reasons than them.
they wanted to beat up communists, I wanted to be a communists.
oh, when we were boys. I sometimes imagine those people sitting around wishing that shit was that good now.
I certainly don't.
I have been thinking about "punk" a lot lately. and how so many people I know have no idea what it means. that it somehow got attached to music that has nothing to do with it. think socio-economic-political. ignore the music. Noam Chomsky is one of the most punk people that has ever been and I never saw him at a show once. then people just tell you it is "dead" whatever that means. think dissent. can dissent die? can challenge die? are we that jaded that the idea of testing things is actually what is dead? is agitation to get others to reconsider dead?
I don't have strange hair anymore. I have a beard and brown hair. I want to know what james thinks. or tracy. or laura. or tony.
this is my question: what is punk? (besides getting fucked in the ass in prison) and why am I and Dan Sinker so sure it is not dead.
-jon.