i remember avoiding anyone with a letter jacket and guess jeans in high school. having to drive downtown to the junkman's daughter to buy dr.martin's and albums (or anything else that the mall didn't offer). i remember how a sense of belonging was developed among us, the ostracized. i always thought it would a great liberation when our kind came into their own in our society. i was wrong.
now malls are choked up with shops and carts selling out bands that don't even exist anymore. tshirts of sid viscous with fake safety pins screened over the entire thing. sid went out in classic punk style, but we just can't let him die. songs that couldn't get airplay on the coolest college radio stations, let alone mainstream are now dropped in behind commercials and tv shows. it costs more than a day's salary to pay for a ticket to the sex pistols reunion tour and there's a misfits cd boxset and a dead kennedys dvd. the idea of selling out is compromised and our morals are shuffled aside as we trade our fear of war for "power of pride" bumper stickers and lattes.
so now my kind rules the market and the high school jocks i once feared have been replaced by kids that look like i did but act like they did. the cheerleaders are sad and the boys cry. they all want tattoos and can't wear short no matter how hot it gets. they spend hours preening over their look, making sure every strand of hair is out of place and the black, rubber braclets are equal on each wrist. a look of not caring that needs so much care and maintainence. the knee-jerk liberalism has been replaced with a dopey, gaping mouth, a blank stare, and a trucker hat.
the cool crowd is afraid of being cool and pretend not to know it. at least the jocks could admit what they were, even gloat in it. today, they grab their arm and shink back, playing with their lopsided hair acting shy. cuteness is more powerful than sheer strength.
and the worst irony is that this sarcastic and negative rambling fits the emo M.O. perfectly.
now malls are choked up with shops and carts selling out bands that don't even exist anymore. tshirts of sid viscous with fake safety pins screened over the entire thing. sid went out in classic punk style, but we just can't let him die. songs that couldn't get airplay on the coolest college radio stations, let alone mainstream are now dropped in behind commercials and tv shows. it costs more than a day's salary to pay for a ticket to the sex pistols reunion tour and there's a misfits cd boxset and a dead kennedys dvd. the idea of selling out is compromised and our morals are shuffled aside as we trade our fear of war for "power of pride" bumper stickers and lattes.
so now my kind rules the market and the high school jocks i once feared have been replaced by kids that look like i did but act like they did. the cheerleaders are sad and the boys cry. they all want tattoos and can't wear short no matter how hot it gets. they spend hours preening over their look, making sure every strand of hair is out of place and the black, rubber braclets are equal on each wrist. a look of not caring that needs so much care and maintainence. the knee-jerk liberalism has been replaced with a dopey, gaping mouth, a blank stare, and a trucker hat.
the cool crowd is afraid of being cool and pretend not to know it. at least the jocks could admit what they were, even gloat in it. today, they grab their arm and shink back, playing with their lopsided hair acting shy. cuteness is more powerful than sheer strength.
and the worst irony is that this sarcastic and negative rambling fits the emo M.O. perfectly.