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11.11.2024 The White Album: Revolution #9 At the Satellite coffeehouse Chomsky-ites have tattoos of Eastern symbols (I-Ching, yin-yang, Buddha) all over their arms the screen-saver for the computer is ImpeachBush.com while they sit huddled over pamphlets printed on cheap paper put together at Kinko’s about how to make bombs overthrow the gov’t grow hemp smoke hemp know hemp be hemp or the way to join a food co-op that has exotic berries with anti-oxidants & which has been going in West Philly since 1969 but these kids were raised on indie punk and their bands only know a few chords but everything about suffering and it comes out in songs like glass shards no one has Health Insurance many have bikes get in accidents get addicted to pills but no one much cares Health Insurance is for yuppies what is wanted is a community anti-everything material goods are derided in favor of principles but there is no public outlet to bring them to the attention of the masses who are disdained anyway for not having tattoos playing in punk bands reading Chomsky shopping at Mariposa knowing what scum directs the media what polished, rehearsed scum polished, rehearsed, privileged by luck and education to brainwash us with imbecile illusions of happiness but these kids ain’t happy either they want something else what they can’t admit to wanting a real voice, real status real position real influence real opportunity & it’s not going to happen here at the Satellite so they sip brackish drinks unsweetened by sugar give out their pamphlets promote their bands find themselves at thirty borderline derelict addicted to Percosets that they get through covert means which are unreliable some have canes as if this were an old age home which it is as Shelley was aged by radicalism unchecked by moderation emotional, psychological, or otherwise so that it’s the world against them and they ape contentment with this scenario that sears its lines onto their foreheads oh the irony that Penn is just a few blocks away where Chomsky went, and me where real influence is possible owing to prestige and money but don’t call West Philly University City here you’ll get spit on because it’s seen as a marketing ploy to destroy the Satellite its espirit de corps atmosphere of huddled hairiness tattooed twists wanton sex perverse reliance on self-medication & impending age which reduces sangfroid to bitterness just like black coffee & black coffee is what the Satellite does best Edith Piaf could sing a chanson just for the Satellite only in triple time like a punk song everyone would bow their heads, knowing truth knowing failure knowing salvaging a life from radicalism is a scary venture not for sissies or those who want Health Insurance to keep them alive posted by Adam Fieled on Monday, November 11, 2024 Post a Comment
The White Album: Revolution #9 At the Satellite coffeehouse Chomsky-ites have tattoos of Eastern symbols (I-Ching, yin-yang, Buddha) all over their arms the screen-saver for the computer is ImpeachBush.com while they sit huddled over pamphlets printed on cheap paper put together at Kinko’s about how to make bombs overthrow the gov’t grow hemp smoke hemp know hemp be hemp or the way to join a food co-op that has exotic berries with anti-oxidants & which has been going in West Philly since 1969 but these kids were raised on indie punk and their bands only know a few chords but everything about suffering and it comes out in songs like glass shards no one has Health Insurance many have bikes get in accidents get addicted to pills but no one much cares Health Insurance is for yuppies what is wanted is a community anti-everything material goods are derided in favor of principles but there is no public outlet to bring them to the attention of the masses who are disdained anyway for not having tattoos playing in punk bands reading Chomsky shopping at Mariposa knowing what scum directs the media what polished, rehearsed scum polished, rehearsed, privileged by luck and education to brainwash us with imbecile illusions of happiness but these kids ain’t happy either they want something else what they can’t admit to wanting a real voice, real status real position real influence real opportunity & it’s not going to happen here at the Satellite so they sip brackish drinks unsweetened by sugar give out their pamphlets promote their bands find themselves at thirty borderline derelict addicted to Percosets that they get through covert means which are unreliable some have canes as if this were an old age home which it is as Shelley was aged by radicalism unchecked by moderation emotional, psychological, or otherwise so that it’s the world against them and they ape contentment with this scenario that sears its lines onto their foreheads oh the irony that Penn is just a few blocks away where Chomsky went, and me where real influence is possible owing to prestige and money but don’t call West Philly University City here you’ll get spit on because it’s seen as a marketing ploy to destroy the Satellite its espirit de corps atmosphere of huddled hairiness tattooed twists wanton sex perverse reliance on self-medication & impending age which reduces sangfroid to bitterness just like black coffee & black coffee is what the Satellite does best Edith Piaf could sing a chanson just for the Satellite only in triple time like a punk song everyone would bow their heads, knowing truth knowing failure knowing salvaging a life from radicalism is a scary venture not for sissies or those who want Health Insurance to keep them alive posted by Adam Fieled on Monday, November 11, 2024 Post a Comment
At the Satellite coffeehouse Chomsky-ites have tattoos of Eastern symbols
(I-Ching, yin-yang, Buddha) all over their arms the screen-saver
for the computer is ImpeachBush.com while they sit huddled over pamphlets
printed on cheap paper put together at Kinko’s about how to make bombs
overthrow the gov’t grow hemp smoke hemp know hemp be hemp
or the way to join a food co-op that has exotic berries with anti-oxidants
& which has been going in West Philly since 1969 but these kids
were raised on indie punk and their bands only know a few chords
but everything about suffering and it comes out in songs like glass shards
no one has Health Insurance many have bikes get in accidents
get addicted to pills but no one much cares Health Insurance is for yuppies
what is wanted is a community anti-everything material goods
are derided in favor of principles but there is no public outlet to bring them
to the attention of the masses who are disdained anyway for not having
tattoos playing in punk bands reading Chomsky shopping at Mariposa
knowing what scum directs the media what polished, rehearsed scum
polished, rehearsed, privileged by luck and education to brainwash us with
imbecile illusions of happiness but these kids ain’t happy either
they want something else what they can’t admit to wanting a real voice,
real status real position real influence real opportunity
& it’s not going to happen here at the Satellite so they sip brackish drinks
unsweetened by sugar give out their pamphlets promote their bands
find themselves at thirty borderline derelict addicted to Percosets
that they get through covert means which are unreliable some have canes
as if this were an old age home which it is as Shelley was aged by radicalism
unchecked by moderation emotional, psychological, or otherwise
so that it’s the world against them and they ape contentment with this
scenario that sears its lines onto their foreheads oh the irony
that Penn is just a few blocks away where Chomsky went, and me
where real influence is possible owing to prestige and money
but don’t call West Philly University City here you’ll get spit on
because it’s seen as a marketing ploy to destroy the Satellite
its espirit de corps atmosphere of huddled hairiness tattooed twists
wanton sex perverse reliance on self-medication & impending age
which reduces sangfroid to bitterness just like black coffee & black coffee
is what the Satellite does best Edith Piaf could sing a chanson
just for the Satellite only in triple time like a punk song everyone
would bow their heads, knowing truth knowing failure knowing
salvaging a life from radicalism is a scary venture not for sissies
or those who want Health Insurance to keep them alive
Post a Comment