Tuesday, August 21, 2007

HARDER CORE THAN THOU

It begins today. I’m transforming myself into the most punk thing in history. G.G. Allin, Iggy Pop, step aside. When I’m done, you’ll be forgotten, erased from the punk annals as punk godfathers and edge-pushers. I won’t be some reincarnation of the punk ethos either. I will be the alpha and the omega of punk. When I’m done.

I’ll start by throwing away all non-punk CD’s I own. In fact, all CD’s are gone. Just punk 12” of every shape and form from now on.

Out go all non-black shirts and pants, too. All of the semi-ironic, 80’s hair band shirts? Trash. I only wear punk T’s and have to be black. I keep one pair of black jeans with holes in the knees and crotch. Every item of clothing: hoodies, belts, socks, shoes. All black. When I enter a room, all light is sucked into my void.

I have to find a ratty dog. A half-starved, creepy mutt of a dog. I’ll give him a spiked, metal collar and a leash made of leather. He’ll be as punk as me.

I’ll buy a black backpack from a Goodwill. In there, I’ll keep some black pens, extras punk shirts, a few composition books to write down my thoughts and lyrics to punk songs in my head and, finally, one or two copies of “Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll.”

I’ll tear up all my credit cards. And any money in my checking account? I withdraw it all and wipe my ass on every bill before I flush it all down the toilet.

I plan on totalling my car in some punk way, possibly while completely drunk and listening to Bad Brains on the stereo. From now on, I walk everywhere with my ratty dog.

I’ll be at every all-ages show, standing to the back of the place, looking down in disgust at not only the band that’s playing, but all of you in the crowd.

I’m so much punker than you.

-S

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