Welcome to issue #3. I'm doing these faster and faster all the time.
It's probably because I don't really have a life. In the last issue
it said there was art work in it but there wasn't, oops. This time I
got some for real. I only had to go a thousand miles to get it. I hope
you like it. If you don't please give it to someone who might.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.......
Today the city council of Berkeley is having an official contemplation
on how they want to decimate Peoples Park. Yesterday Bill Clinton went
about the business of initiating the charade that will create the illusion
that a "democratic process" is happening and will decide to put 20,000
troops in former Yugoslavia.
was made a long time ago. See when Yugoslavia split up, one group of
people had the majority of the countries military hardware. After the
split up, the US and the UN declared sanctions against everybody in
the regions. This ensured that the Muslim(ie non-christian) population
would be defenseless. From that point on the situation was a sure fire
slaughter. My opinion is that this is just another example of our "leaders"
making sure there is a continual way to justify our huge military budget.
Creating conflicts for us to resolve on account of the current lack
of Cold War enemy. So good old Bill is on the TV right now talking about
how this action is nessecary because of the slaughter(that we created),
the epidemic proportions of rape at the hands of the military(rape is
sort of an epidemic back here at home too, don't you think?). Do you
think 20,000 soldiers are going to decrease the violence? Do you think
20,000 soldiers will end rape in the region? If either of these was
the case why haven't we used the same 20,000 soldiers to end the violence
in our own country? If it were true why don't we use those 20,000 soldiers
to END RAPE here? Could it be because ending violence and rape would
be a matter of the halting of people violating each other, an idea pretty
contrary to a military reality. The military can do nothing but violate
peoples. To truly stop these things from happening, it would take all
of the people who currently violate others to learn to stop and to not
teach their children to do it in the first place. Sounds like too much
to ask of some 18 year old kids whose only training has been how to
kill. Somehow I get the feeling that if anybody says anything against
the deployment of troops, they will be branded by the state/media, PRO-RAPE/PRO-MURDER
in the same way they label pro-choice activists "Anti-Life". Lately
I played a show in Croatia and we met KIDS who had to go to the war
the next day. This time it's your friends.
GETS OUT OF HERE ALIVE.
In the last two years we've lost a couple of handful of people. The
first one was Rosebud Denevo. She was overpowered by her resentment
and anger. She put herself in a bad position and the police/univercity
took advantage of it, broke all their own rules and procedures and killed
one was a guy named Chris. He dabbled too often and too much with hard
drugs and isolation and depression. He jumped in front of a subway train
one was his ex-girlfriend Charlene. She used heroin to deal with the
pain brought on by past sexual abuse. In the world of needles there
are no take backs. She did an overdose of Heroin and died.
one was another kid named Chris. He was in Austin, TX. He was trying
to stop a fight between one friend and another group of friends, who
were all drunk. The single guy freaked out, was too drunk to realize
that Chris was trying to help him out of a screwed situation, and stabbed
Chris in the stomach, he died.
one was a guy named John Michael. He was an epileptic. I'm not sure
but I think that means your not supposed to drink alcohol. Anyway he
was living in a hotel room, drinking, had a seizure and died. It took
about a week before somebody even found him.
one was a 15 year old named Blyth. I've already written about her in
#1.5, so I won't repeat myself, but her death was at the hands of a
one was a guy named Jonathan. His kidneys gave up on him. I couldn't
honestly say what caused it(cuz I didn't know him as long as the others),
But I do know that kidneys clean the blood and the easiest way to ruin
kidneys would to force them to process large doses of poisons over a
long period of time.
the words our activist/punk/homeless/etc. community speaks to the effect
of throwing patriarchy off of our consciousness, we seem to still idolize
some sort of tuff guy thing. Our friends are dropping like flies from
PREVENTABLE causes and instead of questioning what's going on around
us, we take this pretentious stance that says "I'm tuff, I can take
it, these things happen, the system did this to them and I'll get revenge
and that will make everything better." Revenge never resurrected anyone.
Part of having both halves of ourselves would entail admitting that
I/We/You can't take it(the unessicary loss of a loved one). Too me the
most important part of what has transpired is that there is a deadly
serious lesson to be learned from these peoples deaths. Most of us aren't
learning from these things. Most of us are still engaging in these behaviors
that killed our friends.
how to direct Charlene to places where she could have received help
with her problems with heroin and abuse. I was too concerned with getting
loaded to tell her about it. The only way I have to respect and honor
her life+death is by not ever, not even for one day, forget what killed
her, and what will kill me if I let it be part of my life. Her death,
in a sense, is the most important gift I've received in my life because
since I have received it, I get to choose life over slow death.
These are the things that I have been arrested for, I think they are
more or less in order.
1. Obstructing a public thoroughfare. When I was 14 I cut school one
day to go to an anti-apartied demonstration. The cop with the bullhorn
announced that if you sat down you would be arrested. I thought that
sounded funny so I did it, and you know what happened? I got busted.
2. Runaway. That's right I got arrested for going to school 12 hours
early, go figure.
3-312. Sleeping. You know, I thought that sleeping was a biological
fact too, but no, it's a misdemeanor.
313. Malicious Mischief. This one was a little tricky. Me and Claude
and some other dude were hedge diving on UC campus one night, jumping
off of a car into these bushes. We tried to look into the car window
first to make sure nobody was in it but the windows were tinted black,
so we just assumed that no one was in it. Of course there actually was
someone in it, as it turns out. So anyway, the cops caught us a little
later in a building and they ask me to fill out a statement, so I write
that I jumped off the roof of the car to get over the hedge to find
a place to sleep. When I talked to a public defender he said they couldn't
convict me of anything because I didn't willfully intend to damage the
car. But when I ended up in court the judge neglected that part of the
law and my public defender didn't care enough to mention that they aren't
supposed to be able to convict me without willful intent, oh well.
314. Petty Theft. I was shaving my head one day on UC campus and the
razor I was using got too dull to cut. I went to the ASUC store next
to sproul plaza to steal a razor blade. I went into the store and found
a razor blade that was supposed to cost 7 cents+tax. I stuck it in my
pocket. What I didn't realize is that I was the only person in the store
who wasn't an undercover security person. Needless to say they jumped
me on the way out. I spent three days in juvenile hall for stealing
what was worth 7 cents.
315. Runaway. I refused to be put in a mental institution. I hid in
San Fransico. Later in this piece you will understand whey I am mentioning
that they caught me at band practice.
316. Trespassing(misdemeanor). Me and my friends Jack and Adrienne were
wading in the fountain next to the edge of Niagara falls on the American
side. We did it to get the change so that we could eat. Incidentally
they arrested us, released us to East Bay Mud for no bail and fined
us $25 each with out a trace of paper work anywhere, no receipt, nothing.
Can you say EXTORTION.
317. Littering. One day me and a friend saw a cop jack a guy up for
a nickel bag of weed. We stopped to tell the cop that he was collaborating
with a racist scheme to destroy the black community(the vast majority
of drug convictions are blacks, the vast majority of users are white.
Crack carries double the sentence that powdered cocaine does), and that
we thought he was a creep in general. Due to our presence the cop decided
against arrest and wrote the guy a ticket instead, so we left. As I
walked off I set a sandwich which I had half eaten on top of a newspaper
stand so that some one else could eat it. Half a block down the street
I got arrested for littering.
318. Being in A Public Park After Dark/Warrant. One day while I was
living in the Fifteen van, parked on the south side of People's Park,
and I decided that I had too many books. So I went and got some wood
and nails and a hammer and proceeded to make a bookshelf for the park.
I did in such a way that it was connected to a tree not by nails but
by leaning and rope. It took me quite a while to make it. I finished
it's construction about quarter to ten, which meant I had 15 minutes
to clean up the mess before park curfew took effect. My friend Jesse
Manycolors came by and was helping me clean up. Apparently we took a
little longer than 15 minutes because the cops showed up and arrested
us both. It seemed a little ironic that Jesse is a Native American and
was the only person there who had a moral right to be on the land. Nonetheless
we were both arrested for Trespass and warrant for failure to appear
on the above paragraph and Jesse's warrant was for trespassing or something
319. Obstructing A Public Thoroughfare. One day I was helping my friend
fix his car so he could sell it. He lived on Univercity Avenue which
is an exit off of I-80 in Berkeley. After awhile of working on his car
we went up into his apartment to drink a beer and smoke cigarettes and
take a break. While in his apartment we started to hear faint chanting
getting louder. It got louder and louder, after about a minute it was
so loud that we ran outside. To our amazement we found a thousand people
running down the street on account of the innocent verdicts that were
giving to the four cops who were charged with the assault on Rodney
King. We ran with everybody down the street and straight onto the freeway.
It quickly became apparent that there were too many people going too
fast for the cops to keep us from getting on the bay bridge. They eventually
surrounded and arrested all of us about 1/4 of the way across the bridge
to the city.
320. Obstructing a Public Thoroughfare/Trespassing(a couple other charges
I can't remember). During the first few CRITICAL MASS bike rides in
the East Bay the cops didn't really know what was up. On the third or
fourth ride we got a little out of hand and took the ride(about 100
cyclists) through 2 Safeway's and a gas station and a McDonalds and
a Burger King. Towards the end of the ride we were trying to burn a
McDonalds Flag in front of the Albany police station. Unfortunately
the flag was flame resistant and didn't burn, we spent too long trying
to get it lit and the cops started trying to surround us so we took
off down the street. The street we ended up going down had a turn off
to I-80(dejavu) so we did it. This was probably the single biggest thrill
of my life, pedaling down the slow lane on the freeway, sticking my
arm out to indicate that I was going to move one lane to the left and
praying for a long enough break in traffic to get over one lane. And
then doing it again and again until the entire four lanes were taken
over by bikes. Then looking back at the miles of stopped cars knowing
that we had demonstrated in the physical world what OUR future could
be like if we work for it.
321. NOT. One day, about 2-3 months after my last cigarette, I was jonesing
really bad so I went down to the Berkeley Police Department cuz I figured
they could help me. See I had a warrant for Failure to appear and I
figured if I turned myself in and spent the night in jail then I wouldn't
end up smoking. However when I told them I had a warrant and that I
wanted to turn myself in they claimed that there was no warrant in the
computer so they couldn't take me. Something about just going there
relieved me of the obsession to smoke anyway.
322. Trespassing. This latest one wasn't really an arrest, it was just
a ticket. But I thought I should include it to demonstrate how everything
goes in circles. This ticket was given to me because I was sitting on
a sidewalk, just like the first one. Of course it wasn't that I was
just sitting there. It was also because I refused to move to the other
side of the sidewalk and then proceeded to tell the cop that he was
standing on land that belongs to the Ohlone People(the original inhabitants)
and he had no jurisdiction there and that according to the Ohlone People
there was no such thing as property so trespassing was not even possible,
and then I asked him repeatedly if I could get a ticket. So it's not
always as easy as you think. So I wanted to illustrate what the reasons
for my being considered a criminal: from the top; Sitting on the sidewalk.
Going to school too early. Sleeping. Hedge Diving. Theft of a 7 cent
razor blade. Band Practice. Stealing Wishes. Sharing Food. Building
a Bookshelf. Jogging. Riding a Bike. Sitting on a Sidewalk.
I've actually done some real crimes but they never bug me about that
stuff. I'll write you stories about that stuff once the statue of limitations
is up and I'm off probation.
On my 24th birthday I received some gold. See I was born on the 24th.
There's an old tradition of giving a person gold on the birthday which
corresponds to the date of their birth. So anyway on my 24th birthday
I received only one thing. A book about men recovering from incest.
My friend who gave it to me thought that it might apply to me. She was
right. I didn't open the book for quite awhile. I was struggling to
get off of dope/alcohol/obsessive casual sex for quite awhile. One of
my attempts to avoid my problems was a trip to Mankato. As soon as I
got there I knew it wouldn't work to just change my external circumstances
because my problems were inside of myself. I bummed a ride back home
off of a band called Dog Day. I got to withdraw for alcohol/pot/speed/endorphins/etc.
while being roadie guy. Needless to say it was kind of crazy. A couple
of days into it I opened the book and started reading it. It had lists
of symptoms and after effects of childhood sexual abuse. As I read through
these lists there was no way to deny the fact that I exhibited all of
the symptoms listed. The only problem is that I don't remember anything.
Nothing. The book said that people usually block out memory of sex abuse
until the perpetrators are dead or far away. So it kind of made sense
that I still don't remember anything, because I've lived in the same
place all my life. It's really frustrating, though, not remembering
anything cause it makes me not want to talk to anybody about it because
I always think they will think I'm lying. This would be a normal fear
for a person with memory of the abuse, because perpetrators usually
tell victims they are wrong, crazy, at fault etc. The fear of being
told I'm lying gets a little compacted with me though because sometimes
even I doubt that anything happened, even though I know that's not the
So a while
later I saw my sister in Berkeley and I ate lunch with her. Somehow
we got to talking about our brother and how she was distressed about
having to be around him on thanksgiving. I asked her why that was. She
told me that he had molested her when we were little. I couldn't think
of any incident that she was talking about, but I could tell she was
telling the truth. Besides my brother was exceedingly abusive(violence
wise) so it wasn't too hard to believe. The day that I saw her was her
last day in the US before she went to school in a foreign country.
later I remembered sitting on my floor. I was about eight or so. My
room was right next to my brothers. My mom was screaming at him to open
the door. He wasn't doing it. She went back down the hall and came back
with something that she picked the lock on his door with. When she got
the door open she went in and got my sister and her friend out of the
room. The thing I remember the most was how they weren't just crying
but there bodies were almost convulsing. No one ever said anything about
it ever again. Nothing.
it's been bugging me because I used to share a room with my brother
until I was about 5-6. I don't know what it all means. I got to find
out first hand that an idea I read in the book is definitely true. It
is as follows:
IS WORSE TO TALK ABOUT INCEST THAN IT IS TO DO IT.
NO PLACE LIKE HOME......
After being homeless for a handful of years I got sick of it. I was
sick of sleeping on other peoples couches and floors and feeling like
I wasn't really wanted there, or that I didn't have a right to be there(like
any white person has a right to be here). I got sick of not getting
a place to sleep sometimes. I got sick of trying to sleep outside and
waking again at every temperature drop.
I got sick
of it all. I was wandering aimlessly around the MacArthur bart station.
I went up 40th street and sat down in the island in the middle of the
street. I knocked four times on the ground because someone had told
me that four was the number for the earth. I took out a knife from my
pocket and cut a line through my palm and let some blood spill onto
the earth. Then I asked the Earth for a place to sleep. I sat around
for a little while longer and then got up and walked up the street.
I had gone no more than a block and a half when I noticed a big building
with part of the roof burned up. Upon closer inspection(looking through
the windows) I found most of the rooms to be empty. I didn't realize
at first that this place was the thing that I asked for. I didn't know
too much about breaking and entering at the time, but I got this silly
idea to just try the first door I found. The first door I tried opening
was actually unlocked. I went inside and picked one of the 40 or so
non-fire damaged rooms to be mine. It was pretty scary for awhile being
there by myself cuz every sound that the building made, made me think
that someone was in the building. After a few months there I received
my first visitor. A guy who lived in a park down the street. He just
walked into my room and started talking to me. He was pretty nice at
first until he saw my books. Some of them had titles referring to mysticism
and, god forbid, witchcraft. The guy started asking me if I was a satanist.
I explained to him repeatedly that I wasn't a satanist. He didn't seem
to understand what I was telling him and he up and left. A couple days
later I came home in the evening to find all my stuff, but especially
my books, torn, burned and covered in paint. I guess he thought I was
a satanist. Anyway, I know when I'm not wanted so I left. The fucked
part is that I totally offered for him to live there, when he first
I'll write about the second Free house I was given.
(Stolen from the Slingshot.)
On the night if November 15, 1992 bart police officer Fred Crabtree
shot Jerrold Hall in the back of the head with a shotgun.
Hall was from Union City. He came from a "middle class" Black family.
He was 19 years old, out of high school, spent a good amount of time
around, in the streets, here and there. Jerrold got in trouble now and
then, his friends say he was really pissed off about racism all around.
He met up with John Henry Owens at the mall on Nov 15 and they took
the bart train home. Someone on the train called the driver and said
that two black men had stolen a $60 walk man.
hall and John Henry Owens were walking across the parking lot at the
Hayward bart station. Bart police officer Fred Crabtree got a radio
report about two black men, possibly armed, who had committed a robbery.
Officer Fred Crabtree(who lives at 1045 Coronado Way, Livermore, CA
945500) is a seventeen year veteran of bart police. Bart officials will
not release his personnel record. He is big, 6'5", 250 pounds, white,
middle aged. He was armed with a shotgun, pistol, truncheon, knife,
mace, flak jacket, automobile and radio. His partner was Wodan, an 85lb.
German born and trained attack police Sheppard.
Crabtree confronted the two. Both Jerrold and John Henry were small,
5'6", 135lbs. No one knows exactly what words were spoken that night
but, from some witness accounts, this is what happened:
"GET DOWN ON THE PAVEMENT, PUNKS, NOW!" John Henry Owens got down immediately,
but Jerrold, he said "Fuck you cop, what for?" Jerrold approached the
cop and verbally challenged Crabtree, told him he was a racist mutherfucker.
Crabtree called his dog. Wodan ran to Jerrold and bit him, then stopped.
Jerrold pet the dog's head saying, "See, animals like me." The dog walked
away, and Jerrold approached Crabtree. Crabtree says Jerrold seemed
to be going for his shotgun. There was a struggle. Crabtree hit Jerrold
across the face with his shotgun, so hard that it broke the gun stock.
Then Jerrold turned and walked away from the cop. He said, " What are
you going to do, shoot me?" Jerrold walked about 25 feet, hands outstretched.
racked his shotgun and fired twice. One shot went directly over the
head of John Henry. The next shot hit Jerrold square in the back of
the head. Tore the back of his skull and brain apart.Jerrold
dropped about 25 feet away from the cop.
cops arrived within 5 seconds of the shots. Witnesses stood and starred
at Jerrold's bleeding body as Crabtree spoke to the other cops, "Yeah,
it would be nice if someone finds a gun." They never found any weapon.
Jerrold died 12 hours later.
Owens was arrested on felony robbery charges, and spent the next two
months in maximum security at Santa Rita. He is still facing robbery
charges, despite the fact that no weapon was ever found and that the
"victim" of the "robbery" has presented extremely dubious testimony.
Crabtree claimed he fired in self defense. He said he thought Jerrold
might have been armed,he could've "escaped into the darkness, come back
and shot him." Crabtree was given paid administrative leave for a few
days, was absolved of any wrongdoing by an internal police committee,
and was given his guns and patrol back. He is back on the streets, working
armed plainclothes duty on bart trains.
cops murder or beat someone, the cover-ups, lies and justifications
begin. The cop becomes the victim, the victim becomes the criminal.
Racist stereotypes label people of color, particularly young black men,
as armed and potentially violent. Cops get away with murder when they
convince the public that the suspect "deserved it."
Nothing ever happened to officer Crabtree. I went to a memorial service
at the bart station where he was killed. Someone there pointed out to
me where Crabtree was standing and where Jerrold was standing. These
two points made a line that also hit a palm tree.
police story was that Crabtree fired the shot in the air and the one
that hit him in the head was a fluke. The person showed me that since
Crabtree was about 6'5" his gun must have been about 6'2" in the air,
it had to be aimed, down, at Jerrolds head because the first shot hit
the palm tree at a height of about 5'10", right over Jerrolds head,
yet under the level of the gun. The next shot had to be even lower because
it hit Jerrold in the head, 5'6".
away with it. For now.
to reprint this because as learned more of the story I had a realization
that Jerrold got taught somewhere in his life that if someone is trying
to fuck you up, you leave. That's what I was always taught. It makes
sense. What happened was a lynching. He got away with it. For now.
is listed above, do what you know is right.
TO BE THE KING!
When I went to high school I noticed something about how the boys/girls
or men/women related to each other. There was a predetermined ideal.
This ideal was the tough-guy/quarterback/overly-scholastic dude, coupled
with the dingy/non-assertive/"beautiful"(anorexic/bulemic) girl. They
win the homecoming king/queen positions which proves they are superior
to everyone else. I was most pleased to have the handful of punks at
Berkeley High take me in. I thought we were so superior to the rest
of the kids because we ignored football, homecoming, prom, etc.
a thing called the Gilman Street Project started happening. We punx
had a place to socialize all of a sudden( besides the streets that is).
I didn't notice how quickly we started emulating thier(the jocks) behavior.
I guess I didn't notice(or want to notice) because I got special privileges
out of the equation. See, in our scene, instead of having quarterbacks
we have singers. Instead of "beautiful(anorexic/bulemic)" women in expensive
clothes we have "beautiful"(anorexic/bulemic) women in ripped clothes
and funny colored hair. Since I played quarterback, er... I mean since
I sing in a band, I received unspoken payoffs. I got valued higher than
the other boys/men. On the other side there were certain women who had
that certain look, you know what I mean(anorexic/bulemic) who got valued
higher than the other women/girls.
difference between us and the jocks(in these respects any way) was that
we didn't have an official contest to determine who wins the social
status game. Otherwise the structure, motivations and intentions are
all the same, superiority and hierarchy.
although it may be progress that I(the men) can expand thier options
beyond being a sports figure. The equation works out the same for the
women/girls. They are confined to the role of other/background/the OTHER
part of the MAN. The only real choices allowed are style of dress and
hair, and choice of boyfriend(by which she is defined). (Not to plug
myself anymore than I already do but...)
plug myself anymore than I already do but...)
I used be really proud of the fact that I didn't work. I considered(still
do) working for someone else prostitution. I figured that since I didn't
work I was different than everybody else. Little did I realize, I was
doing the same thing. Just about every crashing arrangement I had when
I was homeless( except for staying with Jake Filth) involved someone
I was sleeping with or used to sleep with, and probably would again.
I didn't see( or want to see) the equation going on. Every time I gave;
sex, a relationship, the allure of sex or a relationship, I got a place
to sleep, food, drugs and eventually I ended up in a couple of situations
where I was given something like an allowance. I always was able to
rationalize it by thinking that it wasn't what is was because "she was
my girlfriend" or the lie that "every boy/man wants sex any/every time
he can get it. The stereotype says that a young girl runs away to the
big city and gets preyed on by older men. I guess that's not always
things more confusing I seem to have picked up this pattern from a form
of incest that doesn't involve physical sexual contact. I don't really
ever feel like talking to anybody about it because most people think
incest only means Father rapes Daughter. What happened to me is a thing
called emotional incest. I think that it is probably very common in
America. It is when a parent uses a child to fulfill the needs of the
parent, that are the responsibility of the parent or the parents partner
to fulfill. In my case I had a father who was emotionally unavailable.
My mother reacted to that by making me fill some of her needs. Emotionally
I was her partner even though I wasn't sexually. I ended up smothered.
So now I end up with a pattern where survival is tied to romantic relationships
because survival was naturally connected to my mother taking care of
me when I was too young to do it myself. Also I end up with a pattern
of feeling like I'm being smothered if I'm in a romantic relationship.
There is also another side effect which is mysogony(which means hatred
of women), because it always felt like my mom was destroying my identity
by making me her partner, which I think somehow translated in my mind
to mean a threat to my life(if that makes any sense, I don't know else
how to explain it). So later on in life when I get into similar relationships(because
that's my pattern) I get the same feelings of being attacked(even though
it's not what's happening) I ending up copping-out and deciding that
all women are fucked/out to ruin my life. So as a result I keep distance
from the people I'm romantically involved with. In the future I'll be
just as emotionally unavailable as my dad, my childs mom will react
the same way as my mom did, and the whole thing will keep going on endlessly.
You might be able to now infer why I think it's a pretty common phenomenon.
All it takes is one guy to close himself off emotionally and it perpetuates
itself all over the place. To me most men in America(and the other places
I've been, Europe/Mexico/Canada) are emotionally not there. I guess
it will take a whole generation of men to turn over there own inadequacies,
in order to turn the whole thing around. So I don't know much but I
still don't work for nobody and I have my own room in my own house now.
I've noticed since I got into punk rock how heavily we rely on "Macho".
Style of dress, speech and body posture mannerisms, attitudes, etc.
Sometimes people say that all the violence and machismo is a way to
mirror society. I don't know but I've never met anybody who saw violent/stupid
punks and suddenly realized that society is violent and proceeded to
drop out of it.
lately that I can get a lot more accomplished when I am working for
something, because when I am working/fighting against something there
is always resistance.
I was thinking is that if you want to be a tough guy, please leave that
sort of behavior outside of shows and other places where community happens,
we don't need it there. If you need to do things to prove your masculinity
to everybody, try doing it to the cops, do it to the IRS when they demand
your money on the 15th, do it when they expect you to passively sit
and watch them rape the earth and destroy small countries in the "third
as I can figure out humans have engaged in an on going process of passing
the buck(the buck being Abuse). I'm not too clear on my history but
I think it started with emperors, who were replaced by popes, who were
replaced by kings, who were replaced by presidents/prime ministers(who
are not exactly replaced by, but rather directed by the multi-national
corporations. The only things that have really changed are the emperors
titles, and the increased technological ability to spread thier fear,
intimidation, greed, abuse, etc.
the guy on top of the pyramids title is makes no difference, the relations
between people are all the same.
on top abuses the people directly below him, his workers, accomplices,
his family, etc. Every one below him seems to be oblivious to the fact
that we all wield a great deal more power than him alone, but we've
been brainwashed to think that we have no power at all, so we let him
get away with it. Anyway, since were all so hung up on our ego/pride/manhood
we all internalize anger when "higher ups" abuse us. As soon as there
is someone around who we can get away with abusing(because thier "under"
us), we dump our internalized anger and rage on them. This happens between
all the different levels of the status/power/wealth hierarchy. Where
people have the smallest amount of wealth and power is where people
have to accept the most abuse just to get the things they need for thier
and their families survival. In all the different levels the abuse filters
down to the point where the parents abuse the children. Now that this
phenomenon has permeated everywhere, coupled with the extreme conditions
found in places like the inner city, we have reached a breaking point.
of passed on abuse from millions of Americans over 500 years has landed
squarely on the head of the African child/Latino child/Asian child/American
Indian child/Poor White child. The current level of youth gang activity/violence/homicide/rape
is just a drop in the bucket of what's in OUR very near future if we
don't drastically alter many things right now. As usual waiting for
the government to take care of these problems will probably be as fruitful
as it has been waiting for them to create peace in the world, solve
world hunger, clean up the enviorment, etc. This is obviously our responsibility.
So I guess
the original point was that maybe it would be better to define Manhood
with adjectives like compassion, Nurturing, Fair-Mindedness, Calmness,
Gentle, Responsible and Peaceful. And to stop defining punk rock with
the negative aspects of masculinity.
The first part of the piece on Jerrold Hall was taken without permission
from The Slingshot. The Painting of Jerrold Hall was painted and photographed
by Elvijo. Font cover by Pamela C. Smith. Drawing of naked guy with
flower by Josh. "I Stand Alone..." by Alisa. All else by me.