Bad is good.
Good is bad.
Negative is good.
Positive is boring.
I like trash. Its art. I dont do drugs but I like to be around people who use or are using drugs.
One time some sort of fucking journalist student at The University of Cincinnati got a wild hair up her ass and took a huge interest in punk-rock one weekend. She was writing some sort of paper or article or some shit like that....
Some locals pointed her my way. So we sat down for a talk.
First she had to badger me because she thought I was a communist. Let the record stand, I dont say this much because its a bore usually but sounds like fun now.
Im NOT a communist. Im not even a Marxist or Leninist or whatever. Theres things I believe in:
God.
The Right to acquire, own and maintain property.
I dont believe in stealing.
I see housing and work as a RIGHT and not a privilege.
I believe in TRUE democracy but have never voted in my entire life.
I told her how I would sell my citizenship IF I think I could get a good pinch of money for it.
These are just a few of my personal beliefs. One idea will coincide with a certain term so I dont try to classify myself.
So this student told me I would hate to visit Myanmar, Russia and China.... Blah, blah, Blah.
"Stalin killed yadda yadda yadda".
"Myanmar builds beaches with slave labor...."
"No, I would LOVE to visit Moscow."
"No, I would LOVE to visit China."
"No, I think Myanmar sounds like my kind of place, maybe even look up Gods Army while I am there."and I had to listen to her fucking mouth.... Her fucking mouth yapping about USELESS shit. Yap. Yap. Yap.
"When I lived in Amsterdam we..."
"When I was in New York we...."
"Im writing about Cincinnati Punk Rock. What is it."
So I told her. I was sitting in the passenger side of a stationwagon owned by the illustrious Matt the Junglecat of The Gazelles. He had a twelve pack of Milwaukees Best half drank on his floorboard. Despite the fact that he was playing the venue, Sudsy Malones, and the continued FACT that his stationwagon was parked just outside thereof, he brought his own for added stimulus and after-show gatherings.
Matt The Junglecat, semper fi. That fucker is ALWAYS prepared.
I was looking down at the beer, shifting my feet around for comfort figuring out what I was going to say.
"Look" I told her and pointed out the windshield at trash laying in the entrance to Sudsys.
Empty,trodden fast food containers.
Leaves.
Cigarette butts.
Random pieces of paper...
Trash. Dirty. Forgotten. Discarded.
Ignored.
Treasure.
She was startled by my sudden moves. Her head scanned back and forth looking for whatever I was pointing at.
"The trash. There, in the doorway. All that trash. THATS Cincinnati Punk Rock."
I dont think she understood. No, wait. Im DEFINITE she didnt understand. Needles to say, she didnt use any of our discussion in the article for The University of Cincinnati's Student Newspaper, The Student Record. Shes gone. Never seen her again I think but Im not to sure because I tend to ignore people who I dont 1)Respect or 2) find entertainment value there-in.
Me. Im still here.
In more ways than one I am the last unicorn. More on that later.
This has been the first installment of Digital Block by Shawn Abnoxious.
Contact me or dont: axs77@aol.com