THE LIFE OF THE ALLAN’S IN WOODBERRY




YA SEE I WENT TO CHURCH, AND MY MUM USED TO BOUNCE ME AROUND

TO SAY, WE BOUNCED YOU ON OUR BACKS BACK THEN

MY BROTHER WAS A BOY, WHO WAS OUT TA HAVE FUN

YEAH I WASN’T ISOLATED, NO, I WASN’T OH NO, I USED TO CRACK JOKES

CAUSE WE ARE A TELEVISION LOVING FAMILY

YA SEE ME AND MY BROTHER BOTH HAD FONZIE JACKETS

AND I HAD AN IMAGINATION TO SAY FONZIE GOES INTO DISGUISE

MY BROTHER SAID FONZIE DOESN’T HAVE A DISGUISE

AND DAD SAID, THIS FONZIE DOES, BACK THEN

I WASN’T A FRIENDS BOY AS SUCH, BUT I ENJOYED LIFE THOUGH

I ALSO TOLD MY FAMILY THAT WITH MY RADIO, I WAS TALKING TO DALE BUGGINS

THE MOTORCYCLE STUNT MAN, AND MY BROTHER SAID, NO YOUR NOT


I SAID, I AM KENNY EVERETT, BUT MY BROTHER WANTED TO BE A MANS KID

BUT I HAD DREAMS TO BE FAMOUS, I THOUGHT I WAS PLAYING MUSIC IN MY DREAMS,

I WAS THE ROCKER JIMMY BARNES, AND THE JIMMY BARNES YOU SEE

IS THE FAMILY LOVING JIMMY BARNES, AND I DRANK A BOTTLE OF SCOTCH ON STAGE

I REMEMBER ALL THE TEASING THAT ME AND MY BROTHER DID TOGETHER

IN HINDSIGHT, JUST FUN TEASING, LIKE NORMAL KIDS DO

MY BROTHER WATCHED COWBOYS AND INDIANS

AND I WENT TO CHURCH WITH MY MUMMY, CAUSE I LIKED THE THEORY BEHIND RELIGION

BY KEEPING PEOPLE WITH THE HEAR AND NOW

BUT I GREW TO HATE RELIGION WITH PHEADPHILE PRIESTS,

AND IF I KNEW MORE ABOUT THAT, DUDES, I WOULDN’T HAVE DONE MY CRIME

YA KNOW I HATE TERRORIST ATTACKS AND STUPID CULTS SAYING GOD SAID THIS

AND MOHAMMAD SAID THAT, I WISH THE WORLD WOULD END RELIGION

BUDDHISM IS A RESPECTFUL RELIGION, I AM LEARNING, HOW TO RESPECT WITH VOICES OF DESTRUCTION

I WANT TO SAVE THE WORLD

AND EVERY TIME I WATCH YOUNG GUYS ON AUSTRALIA’S GOT TALENT

I SEE MY BROTHER IN THEM, MY BROTHERS TALENT, INSPIRED ME

TO BRING MY IMAGINATION OUT THERE, I AM NO WOOSEY

I KNOW HOW TO USE A COMPUTER

I KNOW HOW TO WRITE A STORY

I REMEMBER MY BROTHER JOKING, SAYING MY BRAIN BEING CHOPPED OFF

WE WENT TO THE SHOW AND BOUGHT SHOW BAGS

WE WENT ON A LOT OF RIDES

AND WE ATE FAIRY FLOSS, OH YEAH

AND EATING DAGWOOD DOGS

OUR FAMILY WERE A HAPPY FAMILY GOING TO THE BEACH

WE HAD EARLY MORNING SWIMS

DAD AND BOUNCED ME AROUND ON THEIR BACKS

ME AND MY BROTHER TEASED ONE ANOTHER, IT WAS COOL

I WANTED TO WATCH MUSIC SHOWS ON TELEVISION

MY BROTHER WANTED TO WATCH BANABA SPLITS

SO MUM AND DAD BOTH PUT A TV IN OUR ROOMS

MY BROTHER WAS GIVEN A COOL KID CREDIT FROM THE COSMOS

TO PICK UP WAGGA TV, AND I DIDN’T, SO I WATCHED IT WITH MY BROTHER

MAYBE MY BROTHER DID EXACTLY WHAT THE COSMOS WANTED, AND I DIDN’T

I HASSLED MY DAD, AND MADE THE COSMOS VERY ANGRY WITH ME

WE WALKED AROUND PRINCES PARK IN CARLTON AND THE MCG

THE PEOPLE WERE NICER IN CARLTON RATHER THAN THE SNOBS AT THE MCG

AND WE WENT TO KIAMA, AND HAD A WOW OF A TIME THERE

AND WENT TO VISIT NANNY AND GRANNY IN NEWCASTLE AND MAITLAND

AND I SANG SONGS WITH MY COUSINS, REBECCA DAVID AND MICHEAL

WHICH TURNED THE ADULTS HEADS, IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION

DAD AND SUE WERE TWO SCHOOL TEACHERS TALKING ABOUT HOW TO DISCIPLINE CHILDREN TOGETHER

I WAS COOL, BUT I WANTED TO SIT UP AND WATCH TV

WITH THAT VOICE, GO TO BED BRIAN, EVEN ADULTS OR YOUNG DUDES GO TO BED

BUT I AM A PARTY DUDE WHO LOVES WATCHING TV, AND NOW YOUTUBE

New faces means more money for me nerds  first show since operation



Nerd'.   Hi everyone and welcome to safely home new faces means more money for me and tonight we have grey ham kennel tea with his little song, take it away, dudes
Grey ham kennel tea'

I was a little tea ***, but I grew up
Into a big coffee machine
Cause I want to give people stronger stuff
So they can work hard all day
Yes, they won't have time to play
Show your legs, ya **** girl
How I wonder what life would be if you showed them nw

Up above my eyes so high
And to me your be like a pretty diamond in the sky
So, now **** girl, you showed your legs
And now I can go back home to eat scrambled eggs
Fruit salad, yummy yummy, on your **** is even better
Fruit salad, I want to try some that
Is sitting on your **** right now
Go Santa Barbara go, give me something entertaining to watch
Oh yeah, go Santa Barbara go
Yes, go right now, and we have to move
Go Santa Barbara go, right now
And we'll cumm, all over the place
Yes, my girl needs to be romantic, I will bang the jukebox
And hey presto, somewhere over the rainbow starts to play
Yes, it's sooooo cool, like me, the Fonz
Nerd'.   Thanks Lionel and now we have made a decision on who wins, and I have been handed a letter, yes, I'm sorry, we have no extra money
Nerd'.  Thank you Grey ham kennel tea, we'll see if I want to give money to you,
And now here is Lionel Fonzie with his song, I wanna be cool
Here it goes
Lionel fonzie'
I will ride my motorcycle all over the town

And I hit the juke box and instantly music
Starts playing straight out of it without money
Cause I am cool man, and I ain't gonna change
I am cool man, yes, I will be cool forever
I go out and I always get my girl
And she really wants me, no she isn't stuck with me
Cause I am the Fonz, girl's think I am really really cool
And the young ones today will say I'm sick
And maybe I am, to them I say
Cause sick is another way to say cool, man

from my health insurance from my
Opp, so sorry, I was relying on paying you with that money, and I have to say, tough luck,
So no one wins
Lionel Fonzie said'. You get paid to do this show don't ya, ya loaded aren't ya
Nerd'.    Yeah well sorry, that is my money, and you can't expect me to pay my
Money now can't you, cause doing new faces means more money for me and you get what's left at the end of the day, sorry, that means
nothing today
Lionel and gray ham'.   ***** you nerdy
Nerd'. I have to go, see ya next time

Another night of television hell I was in the middle of a hell of a block.
And withoout the funds my usal cure of hookers and *******  wasnt a open
road so to speak.

I was lost I wondred the streets like  ****** in need of a john.
When through the darkness it appearded a well lit haven in the middle of
a thoughtless storm.

The cinema cafe drinks and films  hmm from looking at the marquee seems
there wasnt much to choose from .
It read like a preschooler had puked apon the board.

There were sequels, and prequels,  gay vampires that walked around in the day,
Weirdos who flew around on broom sticks and loads of treenage **** minus the ****.
Dear lord! I had to get to the bottom of this problem.

The pimple faced kid at the booth asked me in a squeeky yet firm semi manly
voice can I help you sir?
Yes my dear crater face whats with this **** you call films here ?
Umm I dont make em sir there just whats popular.

The greezy faced hampster had a good point in what he said that is.
cause other than that I had no clue what he was working with really what do you think
I am some kinda pervert?

Let me ask you something do you like this **** you sell tickets to?
**** no dude its garbage for halfwits and retards  and some people from Canada.
Who the hell wants to see that **** from twilight  play snow white?
Let me ask is that a adult film?
Duh no ******* we dont show thoose here.

Would you know were I could see thoose films?
Im doing some umm research on human sexulality  it involves alotta big words
which i cant spell so i'll spare you the details  just point me in the right direction
and nobody gets hurt.

Dude they havent shown thoose kinda movies in theaters for years.
Oh yeah and theres this thing called the internet once is way better than writting on your
cave walls.
Kids there really great *******.

After some back in fourth who gives a **** or really reads this ***** banter.
The man with the pizza face finally hit his limit.
Look *******!
I dont make the **** ,I dont watch the ****!
If you gotta problem take it up with the studio exects in Hollywood.

You gotta point there sparky give me your keys!
What! No.
Give me your keys or else.
Or else what grandpa  your gonna hit me with your walker.

No you silly *******.
Or else I'll shoot you.
Ya see young man that should wear a iron mask.
You may have a I Phone
But I have a handgun  and  that always wins the debate no hand em over.

After a brief moment of the little ******* ***** crying and begging for me not to **** him.
Really he watched to many TV shows I wasnt gonna **** him besides.
Im allergic to prison and it wasnt even a real gun what a *******.

I was off in my borrowed car  to the land of bad ideas and great **** jobs.
A place more fake than barbies dream home minus that dickless tool she always
hung out with  not that I played with Barbie's but she does have some really kickarse *******
and im a big fan of ******* hell what great writer isnt?

It was a drive that seemed to take forever  but finally i pulled up to the front gate
of Warner Brothers studios.
The little weird looking gate keeper looked at me and said .
can I help you sir.

Yes please direct me to your leader strange gaurd troll.
Uhh sir this is a closed lot only people with passes can enter.
Well what if i know the secret word?

Who told you about the secret word?
I had him with that one.
These Hollyweird vampires couldnt have enough brain power to
keep some pass on them.
Okay whats the secret word sir?

I had to think deep and from such a shallow mind that was asking alot.
What could it be it had to be something that rang true like snorting a line of
coke of Katy Perry's  ***'s.

Dear lord I had it.

Brad Pitt ***** donkey *****.

The man looked at me in utter shock  I wasnt sure if he was gonna let me pass
or try to pull me out my slightly worn odd smelling borrowed car.
Alright sir it's lot 69 hahaha  yeah I know im demented.

Right next to the lot there filming Winds Of Change **** The Musical!
Staring Johnny Depp and Bogo the ***** chimp.
****** i wish i wasnt busy  that chimp seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.
Well when he wasnt jerking off and eating bannans while throwing his poo.
What a talent indeed.

I found myself in the studio people running every which a way.
It was total confussion   seemd like no one had a clue what the hell they were doing.
Hey ******* shouted some weird little man in a chair who the **** are you!?.

The little red haired man must truely be dellusional.
How could someone not know Gonzo?
Well sir just who the **** are you? I replied.

Well im Ron ******* Howard *****!
Hmm never herd of you are you a director or something?
What!!!
Ever hear of Andy Griffith  or Happy Days?
Oh yeah your that little dork that hung out with that cop yeah what a snitch.
I was playing his son *******.

Dam well seems this ginger finally explained to me why that man always had him around
it all makes sense now i just thought he was some kinda pervert.
Course seems like he had picked up some bad habbits from that Fonzie guy
never trust a man who calls the restroom his office but what a man does with
another man in a ***** restroom for plesure or profit is his own bussiness.

Look *******  what the hell do ya want?
Lets start with a gallon's of nothern light maybe some top shelf hookers some good music.
Maybe a couple hits of some lets say nose candy maybe turn off the lights and see what happens.
Im just saying sometimes ya gotta let nature take it's drug filled course.

Im not talking bout from life dip **** i mean what the hell are you doing here?
Oh **** sorry there  carrot top.
I wanna see the person in charge that green lights all this remake **** you souless
morons put out and call entertainment.

The little red haired devil was silent as he explained to me no one ever saw the
studio head it was like meeting Santa Claus or ****** or being in the pressence of a unicorn
really whats the diffrence.

He warned me of the dangers of meeting such a great mind yet like I do with
most people I simply shook me head and agreed much like i do with
women im trying to sleep with duh like I care about her tweenty seven cats.

Finally after learning I wasnt taking no for a answer he lead me to a room
And in this room was a screen and apon the screen appread a face.
Who dare question the mighty head of the film studio!!

The voice was loud  still it had that comfoting quallity that you just have to love in
a windbag *******.
Umm me.

You well who the hell are you?
Duh ******* im the long winded ******* writting the story.
Oh well what the **** do you want?

Sir I wanna know what the hell's wrong with you people.
Look im a drunk but i could never be drunk enough to pay a fortune to watch half the **** you call entertainment between remakes and films based on gay *** stories about vampires
and dudes who run around the woods calling themselves werewolves.

You mean you actully saw twilight?
The voice asked me on the verge of laughter.
Duh i see a bunch of hot chicks  going anywhere im following without asking
much like the mindless drones that watch that ****.

Sir your a sad sad man.
The strange face on the screen vanished out from the curtan appeared
what looked like *** it was Bugs Bunny !!

Bug's!  
What's up gonz?
****** i always knew you were real much like Fergie and spanish fly.

Gonzo i know half this **** ***** but its because mindless idiots love studip ****.
Look you were once a popular writer and you cant even spell.
Ouch now go ahead mighty furry samuri.

Ya see whatever makes money we put out and really stupid young girls much like your teenage
wife love that **** and being perverts like yourself wanna get laid you'll take them to that ****.
Bugs are you saying it's all about money?

No **** *******.

We talked drank watched backroom casting couch tapes of early starlets like
Harrison Ford no wonder he was so good with that whip.

It was magic minus the  money loving **** mouse that'll sue your ***.
Bugs I gotta ask you a deep question?
Shoot there Gonz .
Is Mickey really just a cross dresser calling himself Minnie?

You are messed up in so many ways Gonz.
We laughed swapped ***** stories  like the time Bugs slipped
Daisy some ****** and got a ******* in the magic castle  while goofy watched.

What the **** is Goofy?

Gonz .
My furry amigo said to **** if I know.

Untill next time kids stay crazy

And remember if you wish apon a star  ya better make sure to whom thoose copy rights
belong to truley are.
Cause thoose rich ******* will sue your *** .

Cheers

                               FIN?

I am wearing my nice warm black jacket
It keeps me warm
It keeps the rain off me
It makes me look satisfied
Like a professional writer or
Something similar
It makes me look grown up
And I feel very snazzy
It shows I like to go out and party
Like to a restaurant to buy a
Nice hot pizza and coke
And I feel like I can live forever
Because the jacket brings back memories of my childhood
Like, I remember back when I lived in Woodberry which is near Newcastle
Where me and my brother both had black jackets and this made us both very cool, in a hip way
Maybe we were imitating fonzie
On happy days
And both me and my brother
Were using our imaginations
To improve fonzie' character
I said we could give fonzie a disguise and put his black jacket on to outsmart burglars
My brother said fonzie doesn't
Have a disguise and I said
If you use your imagination he can


Sent from my iPhone

whistle, call out,
bait me in,
i'm super ******* cool,
i can't forgive,
what i can't forget,
whistle, call out,
the neurons fire mad,
the adrenaline screams,
grinding teeth,
i'm super ******* cool,
whistle, call out,
taunt, bait,
think of your throat,
of your crippled arrogance,
listen,
i'd love to spill your blood,
i'd love to make you hate every breath,
but i'm super ******* cool,
so i'll watch from afar
as you spill your own,
going mad at the lack
of a response,
at the lack of an ally,
i don't have time to
pretend,
to be bait,
to be horned,
to get drawn in and *******,
i'm brando in a white t-shirt,
i'm fonzie decked in leather,
and you're a summer *****
whose season is in passing.

ERIN MORAN FROM HAPPY DAYS
HAS SUDDENLY PASSED AWAY
FONZIE IS GRIEVING BADLY
CHACHI IS EXTREMELY SAD
MARION IS HEART BROKEN
AND RALPH IS VERY MAD


HAPPY DAYS WAS A GREAT SHOW
AND WHAT AN INCREDIBLE CAST
IT WILL STAY IN OUR MEMORIES
AND LIVE IN OUR HEARTS
AND THERE IT WILL ALWAYS LAST

You see when my brother was born
I didn’t like him crying
I thought there was something wrong with
Him
But despite all that after my terrible ordeals in
The 60s, Cronus made me an intellectual disabled man, but I felt normal
I liked the morning cartoons
And play school and Sesame Street as well as romper room
It took me a while sorr out my bowel movement
Anul leakage, that was very embarrassing for me and mu brother, just being a kid played with my games with his mates and I wasn’t playing it, I liked watching my fave television shows just like a normal kid, my brother tried to break my Batman mask after I broke something of his
We fought a lot when we had the same room, both of us needed our own space and I used to try and kiss all the boys but I only kissed 1, who was David turner, and when I wanted to watch the right on music program, my brother turned the tv over to the banana splits, which wasn’t too bad, another show we liked was the Mickey Mouse club, despite me and my brother watching, we bought the showbsg of it and all, we also bought the CHiPS, which was a show about two motor cycle club, and they had fake radios and I told the family I was talking to
The motorcyclists on the track and my brother no
Your not and me and my brother had two Fonzie jackets and I said Fonzie had a disguise and my
Brother said no he doesn’t and my dad said this Fonzie does and when mr and my
Brother were trying to get out of the pool,
My brother got out and when he couldn’t make it he pushed the thunder tube into me to make me not get out too, I had a friend Lyle who did things with our family, I played cricket with him and we went on a train and every time Lyle went to the toilet, he couldn’t figure out how to get
Out and I had to guide him out of the toilet because was my friend and I was having problems at the YMCA, because there I was my
Brothers brother, all the boys liked my brother more than me, it might be because I pooed my pants, but I couldn’t help it, I grew up and developed schittzophrenia

you can never believe yourself sometimes,
how stupid it can get,
i could have spent my evening
watching, what would become:
a very thrilling game -
   instead? i gave up after the first half,
thinking that watching a few you-tube
videos regarding stale political affairs
from 2016 and drinking a beer would
be better than the second half of
france vs. the netherlands,
in a historic drama, whereby the netherlands
would be ousted from playing
a major tournament, in 40 years!
****... 4 - nil to france... and i missed that!
i watch these videos and think to myself:
i'm starting to build fatigue around them:
i used to be much more immune to the content,
it's literally becoming a brain-drain,
whether it's "legacy" or "alternative" media,
media's media, doesn't matter which side
you listen to: it's still the same economic model:
views...
     and that's what's tiring,
this, dare i say, diacritical(?) complacency?
well, i just did,
               at least i can admit that even within
the confines of my monologue,
i have the promiscuous (2nd dictionary definition)
audacity to argue with myself -
   something that is quasi-schizoid,
but: just necessary -
     and given that the medium where i encounter
this dualism is in terms of thought -
well: so much for being objectivity-crusaders,
when all i hear on the news interviews
is a bunch of, brats, shouting over each other,
and going into gear of being too emotional...
first of all, what's wrong with subjectivity,
if it can be contained by some sort of calm rationale?
why the sudden: oh, it's subjective,
ergo it's not credible! huh?
            a ******* peddle-stool moment from
i'm seeing and hearing, i just missed
the second half of a historic football match,
to simply get ******* watching you-tube videos
and drinking two pints of stella -
   and no, they didn't go down well,
          i had to walk an extra mile to burn off
the indigestion; **** knows, might have been
the beer, or the you-tube content.
you know, watching these videos,
   i sometimes wish i was able to watch
a hot-air balloon festival...
    it would make sense then,
         just chilling, with a beer, watching these
grand auroras of: mushrooms in the sky unfold
and startle me...
              and as god is my witness,
i've seen more foxes and deers in plain myopia
distance of sight, than i've ever seen hot-air balloons,
plenty of inflatable bouncy-castles of ego,
i mean... does anyone even consider revising
dialectics any more? sitting with some old
man on a park bench, and discussing a raleigh
bicycle? while at the same time having
the audacity, dare i say: tenacity to boot,
of: just chilling out and playing opinion ping-pong?
huh?! if i want a heated "debate", i'll strike
a conversation with someone... in a sauna...
and no, there's this blatant disparity via the old
world and the new...
  just because i've written something on
pixel "paper" doesn't mean i'm talking,
        unless it's in the comment section -
that's fine, i understand that -
   i'm writing this into thin air -
      it's called thinking aloud, and yes,
you're welcome, you should feel privileged that
i share this much, or as much as:
  so i was sitting there, as usual, on the windowsill,
opened a can, poured it into a glass,
wriggled my heel into my grand canyon of ****
and... that familiar sensation...
    well, i can't just leave the poor thing on its own,
and return to it as it turns stale...
i was already listening to some music,
and reading a magazine article about
the phenomenon of the once unfashionable trend
of beards in england, not so, post-circa 2013...
off ye went, to sit and **** into the throne
of thrones...
  i swear, this was the only compensation for
missing the 2nd half of the football match...
and that's, what you call "multitasking"...
my uncle does a better one though,
  i would too; he always has a cigarette while
taking a ****;
so no... this isn't talking, this is "talking" -
you agitate the white flag of a pixel page,
you attack everything worthwhile -
   what, just because thinking is confined to books,
who have censor publisher authorities
who demand the thumb of law, with re.:
(a) will it sell, be a hot crumpet,
   or (b) will it flop, and only be a niche product,
   like the niche product that raw herrings
are the counterculture misappropriation
  of the multi-cultural daft fascination with sushi?
i'm a raw herring boy, in cream sauce,
after all... baltic's the baltic;
ah... so much for these "alternative" media
outlets...
     i'd still prefer to chill with a beer,
                          watching hot-air balloons;
4 - nil... **** me, now that's a scoreline -
and i'm peeved to mind that the pitch was too
wet in 1974, and that the game should have
been postponed, semi-finals...
west germany vs. poland...
                 the poles were quick, the germans,
well, like any german: custard-limbs...
slow...
            ah... i can just picture that 1974
final: poland vs. the netherlands,
   grzeorz lato, szarmach, deyna...
hey, johann cruyff...
               now picture the fonzie pose.

i listen to music,
pretty loud on my headphones...
but the sound
of a woman's voice,
crying...
   incubating my room?
******* unnerving!
i'm starting to love drinking
for the auditory
hallucinations...
am i at peace?
   does this sort of writing
appear to be of someone
freaking out?!
    love it to bits,
saves me the bias of
the chimp ingests
   hallucinogens and evolves
argument...
  the sound,
of a woman crying...
while drinking?!
2nd tier...
     unless you've drank
as much as i have,
in anti-social
circumstances...
   the **** is the case
with south american
hallucinogens?
   how about,
a proper English cider?!
no?!
      nuffin?!
**** me...
   auditory hallucinations
are the next best thing...
the sound of a woman
lamenting in the distance?
do i *******
live in a realm of lax of
excess colors?!
sure as **** i live in
a world of horse hoof echoes,
car engine trimmings,
the odd guitar solo,
and, the un astounding
concept of an echo!
     EARS! EARS! EARS *******!
the crows will gauge your,
eyes, out!
ha ha!
when it's auditory hallucination?
it translates as fear...
when it's optical hallucination?
a sudden... thrill!
   i don't mind fear...
kinda gets me a hard-on....
     first came the sound
of the word,
subsequently, the skeletal insurrection,
but later...
who could even consume
the project of a W O R D -
      with an exfoliation
of White Orange Red and sewer Drainage
liquidated brown?
     no one really explored
the auditory avenue of excesses...
no one has ever seemed afraid
to see beyond the sight of
the incubation of excess...
but, hearing outside the realm
of respectable concession?
   everyone loses their mind!
optic hallucination
     experimentation(s) are plain
and simple, simply understood...
but upon hearing a deviation?
   ooh ah! now we have ourselves
a ******* problem!
           you don't get to sit
comfortable, drinking more *****,
having just listened to
the crying of a lamenting woman,
akin to invigorating an Irish Wake...
calmly...
    and not freak out...
unless, of course...
       you're as certain of a vector,
a crow, protecting a grave,
and you...
  never, ever, inflated your
already acute sense of perception,
having it hyper-inflated with
south american hallucinogens.

you drink, and then you drop...
making summary of
the world with
that masterpiece:
   the death of the winged hussars...
by krzesimir dębski...

'ey... fonzie presto!

A family of forgotten heroes... so strange that they've been forgotten...

What it meant to be punk, back then, was to be a part of a family. A blended Brady Bunch of damaged children, with their eyes wide open.

We were the kids that saw it all start, on tv in the 70s. all those panicked news segments and television dramas, warning middle- America that they were here. the punks. they were insane. their music was full of hate... they killed each other when they danced.

America was horrified, but we weren't America. we were born expatriates. We were born with our eyes open.

Even as we watched those shows and played with our SSP Racers, we were outsiders. Unknown to us, we even had a name, but we wouldn’t hear about it for another 5 or 10 years. In the 70's the name was still being used by a band of young British musicians: They were Generation X, and so were me.

From the outside, (by design) punk appeared ugly, hostile, hateful. But it was fascinating, to us at least. These punks were grown-ups, but they were like us. They were what we would be, they were grown... but they were not grown up... They weren't the Hessian dirt-bags that listened to "hard-rock", and wore denim. the sullen, racist, pimply faced, long-haired  guys and girls in Camaros, that the other kids (the social, normal kids that our parents liked) wanted to grow into.

To us the mysterious punks were a living dream...  superheroes. superheroes in black leather. living embodiments of Fonzie, that were an impossible mix of art and intention and suicidal amounts of not giving a **** about the normal people's world.


We were the whipping boy onto which was unloaded the fears prejudices and petty frustrations of the greater society that orbited us.

If you remove 80's punk from music and fashion,
it is a framework on which to build your moral hot-rod.
When everyone else drives a BMW or Cadillac you look at your ******* tin can, and know that its heart is detailed,
high-compression chrome.

A society that mirrored, multiplied and intensified the malignant parental gaze, which was the cause of the damage that drew us together like fingers in a fist.

So we went places that we weren't supposed to go, and took our licks from society's darlings, because they realized the ugly power structure as well as we did, but they chose to embrace it instead.

We were an entire generation of individuals that chose the martyrdom of a clean-conscience that was ****** upon you as a masochistic-morality, by an animalistic society whose only passions were fueled by selfish self-interest.

A passion for survival of the fittest based on lust and material gain facilitated by and nourished on the blood and tears of the leather-bound saints.