allisonation

I've been listening to Green Day's "American Idiot" off and on for two days. It's been a long time since I heard a rock album I liked this much...probably since the first time I listened to any of The Pixies' work. And I confess that I hadn't heard it sooner because...well, because I thought I'd outgrown Green Day, and because I was sort of going through my Emo phase (Leonard Cohen, Elliot Smith, you get the idea) of preferring gentler music when the album was released. But seeing them live (on the DVD of the tour) and listening to this album--both critically and for the sheer pleasure of it--reminds me of why I loved them once, and surprises me with all sorts of new reasons to jam out to them now. It feels like the first time I heard the Sex Pistols, bouncing off the walls, chugging stolen Jack Daniels from my big brother's drug stash with the empty Memphis house pulsing around my pubescent angst. I got in so much trouble when my parents found that tape. No one's around now, either, and ten years later, packaging up my privileged lifestyle alone, surrounded by shiny pretty knickknacks and things I wish I had the courage to toss, I still want to smash the state. But for today, I guess I'll just play singalong to "Jesus of Suburbia" and imagine a spikier hairstyle on my head. That's coming, though. It gets shorter every time. Punk is dead, but it doesn't mean we can't still rock the fuck out, drink ourselves sick, shock the sophisticated classes, and indulge in petty private revolutions in our online lives.

I am completely useless, unless you count scaring the straights. They never see it coming when you blend with them, either.

For those of you who have never heard "Jesus of Suburbia," you should. Especially if, like me, you were raised in an endtime Christian cult that actively alienated you from anything outside The Church and its members. I'm not as loud about it as lots of bloody-fanged atheists I meet, but I have some serious issues with religion. And again, I'll eventually go into detail on that one, as well. In the meantime, eat some good lyrics:

I'm the son of rage and love
The Jesus of Suburbia
From the bible of none of the above
On a steady diet of
soda pop and Ritalin
No one ever died for my sins in hell
As far as I can tell
At least the ones I got away with

And there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don't believe in me

Get my television fix
sitting on my crucifix
The living room or my private womb
While the moms and Brads are away
To fall in love and fall in debt
To alcohol and cigarettes and Mary Jane
To keep me insane
doing someone else's cocaine

And there's nothing wrong with me
This is how I'm supposed to be
In a land of make believe
That don't believe in me

[Part 2: City Of The Damned]

At the center of the Earth
In the parking lot
Of the 7-11 where I was taught
The motto was just a lie
It says home is where your heart is
But what a shame
Cause everyone's heart
Doesn't beat the same
It's beating out of time

City of the dead
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to care

I read the graffiti
In the bathroom stall
Like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall
And so it seemed to confess
It didn't say much
But it only confirmed that
The center of the earth
Is the end of the world
And I could really care less

City of the dead
At the end of another lost highway
Signs misleading to nowhere
City of the damned
Lost children with dirty faces today
No one really seems to careeeeee

[Part 3: I don't care]

I don't care if you don't
I don't care if you don't
I don't care if you don't care
[x4]

I don't care

Everyone is so full of shit
Born and raised by hypocrites
Hearts recycled but never saved
From the cradle to the grave
We are the kids of war and peace
From the Ukraine to the Middle East
We are the stories and disciples
Of the Jesus of suburbia
Land of make believe
That don't believe in me
Land of make believe
And I don't believe
And I don't care!
I don't care! [x4]

[Part 4: Dearly beloved]

Dearly beloved are you listening?
I can't remember a word that you were saying
Are we demented or am I disturbed?
The space that's in between insane and insecure
Oh therapy, can you please fill the void?
Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed
Nobody's perfect and I stand accused
For lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse

[Part 5: Tales of another broken home]

To live and not to breathe
Is to die In tragedy
To run, to run away
To find what you believe
And I leave behind
This hurricane of fucking lies
I lost my faith to this
This town that don't exist

So I run
I run away
To the light of masochist
And I leave behind
This hurricane of fucking lies
And I walked this line
A million and one fucking times
But not this time

I don't feel any shame
I won't apologize

When there ain't nowhere you can go
Running away from pain
When you've been victimized
Tales from another broken home

You're leaving...
You're leaving...
You're leaving...
Ah you're leaving home...