General Admission

If only the world was more like the floor of a punk show.

Sometimes things in the pit can get a little out of control, a little hectic. Too much going on, people doing what they should not, folks losing perspective of their surroundings. Lately life has been feeling a lot like this.

At the show i know what to do. i know how to get myself a little space. i spread my steel-toed stance to shoulder width apart. Start with some leans. If more is warranted more is given. An increased force on me is countered with the exertion of greater force.

An escalation taken to the necessary levels of the situation at hand. Some elbows. Next, arms alternating high thrusted elbows to fully extended fists. Maybe 'the helicopter' with arms swinging in circles as i pogo. If extreme situations call for it then the classic crouched over, high-knees, high-elbows gets brought out with the occasional boot-stomp, kick-out thrown into the rhythm.

Always get my space. Always get my relief.

But unfortunately life is not a punk show. i am struggling to get some space, to get some air. The world is not allowing me the room i currently need.

All along the punk floor there are no apologies and everyone understands. But this is not standing room only, this is society so consider this my 'sorry' to anyone who catches an elbow in the near future. i am just trying to work myself up a little room.

All i Want For Christmas

*Have not seen one in a while? Hey, i did one a day for a month in October. i needed rest.*

With all this family time surrounding thanksgiving there was bound to be plenty of fodder for moments of enlightenment, or at least exemplars to rant about. Over this extended holiday weekend too much family, too much television, too much reading, and just plain too much thinking (with a little tattoo planning thrown in) brought about one reoccurring theme: the human race - inherently good or inherently bad?

This all started with a conversation i was drawn into with members of my extended family. When asked i expressed my belief that given the opportunity, a majority of people will do bad things for selfish reasons every time. You can not count on people to do the right thing. i apparently think like my uncles. My own father was the most empassioned counter. He felt that most people are good and listed off occasions were people were taking care of their neighbors and offering generous aide.

i clarified my statement by elaborating on my specific choice of the word "majority". i do not feel that ALL people are bad. In fact i continued on to express how our very society exists and is able to continue on all due to that absolutely amazing minority of "good" people. You can not count on people to help you out, however, truly good people seem to end up where they are needed most. It is an incredibly overwhelming phenomenon. That "good" minority just seem to take care of us all, without comment, almost always without thanks, they do what they do. They are not represented in government, in media, or in any formal way. i find it infinitely beautiful and one of the few redeeming qualities of the human race.

i think i swayed the discussion as everyone started conjuring up situations where the right person seemed to end up where they were needed as i quietly left the room. i overheard the conversations even evolve into mention of careers where these type of people frequently end up working. Careers where kind services are performed. Careers, unfortunately, that also do not pay particularly well. Of course these people do what they do for a reason, for an ideal and that keeps them doing what they do while the other greedy majority take advantage of this passion and keep the wages low. i am sure you can list 5 such careers without much thought at all.

Driving from one family event to another i was sideswiped on the highway. As i finally came to rest in the highway median i watched the car that had hit me go into oncoming traffic sending numerous cars to scatter before it finally went off the road itself. Unfortunately the driver of the causing car must have had a medical issue and was most likely not conscious through the whole ordeal. Only one car pulled over to help. At least ten cars had to struggle to avoid the vehicle driving on the highway in the opposite direction and countless others travelled by our two vehicles damaged on the edges of the highway. One pulled over to help.

And what do you think this character, this good Samaritan was like? Of course he was kind, and gentle in nature, and the nicest random person you could expect to meet. Several times he expressed regret that he could not help out more than he had. Inspirational.

Did this happen to me because of the conversation i had or as punishment for my commentary on humanity? No. This happened because this stuff happens every day. People acted how they acted because this is how they act every day. (it did clearly support my hypothesis though... just saying)

We are lucky to have that kind minority!

As Copenhagen rapidly approaches and this planet's leaders get together for a couple of weeks to come up with a plan to save our species from our current climate crisis i keep thinking about what got us into this situation. Billions of people on a daily basis making the selfish choice, the easy choice, the wrong choice. The vehicle you choose to drive, the food you choose to eat, the products you choose to buy. This has caused us to go beyond the tipping point of climate change and has put the human race in a situation of best case suffering and worst case extinction.

Maybe seeing this and studying this on a daily basis caused me to say what i did at that family get together. Maybe it was just living on this planet for over 3 decades. Maybe it was because i am a punk monk. But no matter the reasons, i have seem beautiful things in the life of this planet including at times in the human race and i want to see those things continue on and to be able to continue to come about long after i take my last breath.

i hope, i pray, i wish that there will be enough "good" people at those meetings in Copenhagen to save us all. What a Christmas present that would be.

30

spring like temps
on all hallow's eve
where the warm wind removes
the few remaining leaves
they spin around
on the ground
making appropriately
spooky sounds
in the town that defines the scene

girls don their
slutty costumes
because just for one night
they are all allowed to
you can be
who you are
push up bra
painted scar
in the town that defines the scene

29

the nuclear promise was
nothing but a lie

the weapon to end wars
just started a whole bunch more

a new way to make energy
turned into the most dangerous waste

we're a bunch of bald monkeys
running an unending arms race

28

my soul's still
when i'm rolling on a board

the sound of spinning bearings
silences all sound

there's absolutely no point
and no one keeps score

i don't care if i land it
or just fall to the ground

27

i'm tired of my heart
and my fists

i get too worked up
over meaningless shit

but until other people
begin to stand up

i'll be the one saying
enough is enough
...
i've seen too much
with these blue eyes

i'm tired of watching kids
sent off to die

they're not fighting for oil
or someone's freedom fries

they are fighting,
just trying to stay alive
...
the storms come
and then the storms go

while the rich watch on tv
the poor lose their homes

politicians will delay
until judgement day

but they don't know
that it was yesterday
...
to take pills
or cry myself to sleep

am i strong willed
or am i just as weak

i suppose either way
you can say what you say

'cause i'm stuck with myself
at the end of the day

26

fuck baby boomers
those selfish over-consumers

the Beatles were a pop boy-band
the Beetle was a shitty tin can

you're economy rapers
10 years from wearing diapers

i don't care if you sit in your shit
because i'm sick and tired of dealing with it

you had your boom and you had your bang
and you'll all move to Florida when you're old and lame

but you'll be perched on your retirement home's rooves in your baseball hats and jeans
as the melting glaciers make Florida look like 2005 New Orleans

25

all things
yield to love

both hell below
and heaven above

the depths of space
and the limits of time

the future ahead
and the past behind

after my breath is gone
and my cells are undone

me and my love
will still be as one

24

your pathetic attempt to imitate
beat poetry to sell jeans
does not impress me

soda companies pretending
that people jumping into fountains are original
has not sold me

your use of underground iconography
to sell sneakers
will not work on me

the counter-culture has
and always will
remain free

23

the heels shift your weight
just right
causing your lower back
to arch so,
forcing your ample breasts
and firm buttocks
to both thrust upward

your pale skin
working to highlight
your jet black hair
and supple lips
painted bright red

each step a graceful stretch
as your entire body undulates,
hips swaying with the precision
of a pendulum
hair bobbing at your shoulders
as you go

your eyes almost make me want to believe
that what they are saying
is the truth...

...and then you opened your mouth
all that practice and poise
all that seduction
gone in a sentence

22

why should i have to pretend
to be happy when a cop hands me a ticket?

why should i have to pretend
that i have ANY respect for my boss?

why should i have to pretend
that i don't like to swear?

why should i have to pretend
that i am not horny 90% of the time?

why should i have to pretend
that weed is bad but beer is good?

why should i have to pretend
that adulthood is any less fucked-up than childhood?

why should i have to pretend
that you are not an asshole?

why should i have to pretend
that i don't like to make-pretend anymore?

21

my eyes suddenly lose the ability to focus. although this would be great for viewing those ridiculous 3D optical illusion pictures that they used to sell in malls everywhere during the 90's this does not fair well for visual based human navigation. light sources cause spots in my vision as if someone had just woken me up with a bright flashlight. i try to keep myself calm but i know what inevitably is to come. no this is not a stroke. if it were then doctors would know what to do about this. but they don't. i try to relax. if i can i close my eyes. after an hour of more of this short circuit in my optical function phase 2 sets in. part of my face goes numb. as with Novocaine i feel that everyone must see the effects of my lazy face but upon looking in the mirror i realize that there are no outward signs. i suffer alone. undetected. the numbness eventually spreads to one of my arms. motion in the arm becomes sensationless and labored as if i had fallen asleep on it. more scary than the lack of sensation is the knowledge of what is to come. feeling always returns before the onset of the excruciating mind pains. headaches so bad i can not even tell where exactly they are coming from in my skull. even my teeth and ear canals seem to hurt. nothing can be done except a shutdown hoping that things will return to normal when i finally reboot.

20

sometimes i need to be reminded
sometimes we all need to be reminded
that we all really want the same things

to feel like we belong
to feel like we are not alone
to feel like others feel like we do

but too often
everyday things get in the way
everyday desires get in the way

without artists to remind us who we are
i fear would would quickly forget
and lose ourselves forever

19

yard owners of the world UNITE
follow your dog walking neighbors home
mark the locations on google earth
and get out the raisin bran

as that fiber works it's magic
review your map markings
and pay your neighbors a visit,
make no effort to clean up after yourself

18

once we are freed from greed we will be able to figure out how to survive
cast off the shackles and regret of debt and we will remember what it's like to be alive

17

as my heart rate rises time seems to slow down
my senses heighten and i become more aware of everything around me
i don't even feel my fists clenching, they just do
my left foot slowly slides forward and my hips rotate
always maintaining my balance, my shoulders counter in the opposite direction
my brow lowers as my chin dips towards my chest
i can sense every system in my body and how it is functioning
a final diagnostic check before shutting down the pain receptors
i am ready for whatever you have got
we have not been a society long enough to counter our genetics
my escape from that shit-town was not long enough ago to complete my deprogramming
who can possibly believe we are not animals

16

ode to new hampshire
white trash capital of the world

where 80's metal reigns supreme
and there are big bangs on every girl

feel free to yell out the car window
at anyone not like yourself

the state where bud light and slim jims
can be bought off any convenience store shelf

make sure to lock your car
because in new hampshire they still steal stereos

there is a huge aftermarket value particularly
for ones that fit in bitchin' camaroes

make sure to look as tough as you can
because that's what it takes to be a new hampshire man

live free or die in the granite state
where fireworks are legal but strippers only show their cans

15

www.blogactionday.org

350 ppm
the maximum level of CO2 that allows the human race to be sustainable

over 370 ppm
the level we are currently at, which means we need to not only stop but go back

1 degree Celsius
raise in Earth's temperature over the last century

1 degree Celsius
believed temperature increase above current which will result in human extinction

1
pissed off muthafucker because people are not stepping up

1 day a week
giving up meat would help greatly

2 degrees
lowering your thermostat by this much would help

1 time a month
frequency with which you should check your tires to maintain better gas mileage
(and get a more fuel efficient vehicle you fuck)

90 %
of the Earth's species have died during mass extinction events of the past...

... life on Earth will go on... the question is do you want humans to be a part of that?

14

being cool has never been my aim
i'm not even sure if i have a good handle on what is cool and what is not
but those that i see trying oh so very hard
leave me feeling more disappointed than disgusted

we all have different priorities in life
but such insincere goals leave a hollow feeling in my soul
it's not that i think less of those who follow cool
i just find myself less impressed as the conversations progress

am i cursed to follow in Goodman Brown's shoes
i suppose better that than Paris Hilton's beds
but the problem is more in my head than the shopping mall's halls
for my friends are my friends whether hip or not, cool or the death of

13

vengeful viruses
waging their attack on my body

flip-flop between freezing
and heating the room like a furnace

13 hours of sleep
2 days worth of calories ingested

random mumbles
as i fall in and out of consciousness

my intimidated immune system
fights the good fight

if only i could sleep through the night...

12

politics is a chess game
played on a sinking ship

11

a child's eyes never lie
there's honesty in every giggle, every sigh

the sincerity of youth
they know no faux, only truth

so the next time someone says "you're acting like a kid"
i'll say "thank you, i wish that more did"

10

some die having only pursued stuff
while some live their life for love

when you spend all your time looking for things that shine
then year after year that is all that you will find

but when you take the time to be a true friend
you will be surrounded by loved ones in the end

let the rich have their money for i need it not
because i am overwhelmed by all that i have got

9

the key to
doing what you want
is not asking permission

it's always easier
to apologise afterward
that it is to be told NO beforehand

if you are going to do it anyway
don't put someone in the awkward position
of knowing what you are about to do

no one needs permission
to be themselves
or to do the right thing

living this way, frequently you will find
that people will respect what you do
even if they have to reprimand you publicly

8

oh wood...
who gives me
the board i roll on

oh wood...
who gives me
the air i breathe

oh wood...
who gives me
the roof over my head

oh wood...
who gives me
shade on a warm summer day

oh wood...
who gives me
pleasure when... oh wait... wrong type of wood

7

fuck people who don't sub
self-centered, selfish folks
who probably don't get enough love

you're sucking wind
you cocky twat
if you sat for a bit we might just win

but if you had any self-awareness at all
you'd be playing your position
instead of blindly chasing the ball

6

depression
contagious?

am i a danger
to those i love?

am i a carrier
exposing those closest to me
to the demons beneath my skin?

like the female samurai poison tasters
who can never know the touch of another
because of the built-up of poisons
running through their veins

should i live the solitary life
of a ronin without a clan
or that of a reclusive monk
high on some mountain top?

perhaps, like all of the above
i should strive to ensure
that my contributions outnumber
my detriments...

5

i am a shopping cart cowboy
wrangling herds of trolleys
from corral to bay
rounding up all stragglers

with squinted eyes and lowered brow
in the blazing summer sun
i guide long chains up the gentle slope
slowly re-organizing the bay to get a few more seconds of A/C

bundled up in blizzards of snow
the string of carriages drops to 5 or less
as the tiny tractionless wheels
more slide than roll in the inches of slush

a mostly solitary job in the asphalt jungle
occasionally making a run through the front end
to relocate pesky hand baskets back to their doorway home
or helping the overwhelmed load up their cars

my job is not finished until the last shopper is home
and come morn' all my work will be undone
but no matter the conditions i must carry on
because everybody needs groceries

4

haiku are so weak
but i have nothing left now
to give to this poem

fall's sun has left me
energy has gone as well
5 will be better

3

aching muscles
and sore bones
from chasing balls
and fixing homes

i fear if i stop
to catch my breathe
i will be caught by
my old friend death

2

"old friends"
become
"old" friends

more lines
more pounds
same smiles

after 5 minutes
all is as it was
and we are young again

1

some of us are just built
to keep the water moving

to keep things from getting stagnant
so that those
who are better than us
might come along
and accomplish great things

i kick my legs
and flail my arms
every day

i will not apologize
if i splash water in your eyes

One A Day

October was Kerouac's favorite month and he always tried to make it back east for this most beautiful of fall months.

i am going to try something different for October. i have purposefully kept poems and rants separate but equal for both have their own forum, but as a writing exercise i have decided to attempt to write a short poem for every day of October. i am not so naive as to think that i will actually find enough time in every day to get to this site in order to post it every day but i intend to get one in to account for every day of the month.

i am not promising quality here, just quantity. Those that get too long may become reading fodder rather than Punk Monk posting. i will attempt to be brief with each... spontaneous and fucked-up.

Ready, set, ...

Hard Cover Or Paperback?

Oh the lies we are told throughout our childhoods. Santa Claus? Easter Bunny? Tooth fairy? Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me? There's no such thing as a stupid question? All lies told to me. All lies i have since found untrue. Lies told to make you believe something that the speaker themselves did not believe.

Once i unearthed the truth to a handful of these as a small child i started on my path of never just taking any adult's word on faith. These lies just made me driven to search out the truth for myself. Based on people's reactions to talking heads on the television, however, it would appear only a handful of us have learned this lesson.

My point today is to dispel one of the lies told to us over and over again as children: you can't judge a book by its cover. This is a pile of bullshit mounding up both thick and high. This lie is a scapegoat, a substitute for thinking. It is wrong from so many angles but told time and time again to make the speaker feel better about themselves.

Sure, i understand the simplest of intents surrounding the phrase. Do not judge people based on what they have. Do not judge people based on what they can afford. Well say that then (even though you do not mean it). This is lip service and hypocrisy.

How many time were you told this as a child one day then told the next day to go put your church clothes on? Or told the next day that there is no way in hell you are leaving the house dressed like that? But don't judge a book by its cover.

If you should not judge a book by its cover why have i always felt the need to wear a tie and jacket to job interviews? Why do i have a suit for weddings and funerals? Why do i have to wear a long sleeve shirt when going through airport security to hide my tattoos?

Aside from the obvious hypocrisy though, this is still a horrible lesson. You are judged by the decisions you make. Every decision you make says something about you. The car you choose to drive, the words you choose to speak, the actions you choose to carry out, and yes, the clothes you choose to wear. You can (and are) making a stand for or against something, or some ideal, with every decision you make.

But not everybody can afford the clothes they want to wear so we should not be judgemental of poor people... blah blah blah blah. i call foul! On any budget, with any resources, you can pull off your own look. The possible exception is if you are trying to look rich. In that case you are just fucked. Sorry. Set some better goals for yourself next time.

For reasons that still escape me to this day i have been asked to participate in fundraising fashion shows twice in my life. This was a bad idea from jump street. Maybe it was some attempt to get me to dress up, to see what i would look like if i fit into some concept of normal. Nice try but if my mum could not pull that off in a lifetime how was some fundraiser going to make it happen in a night?

On both occasions i had to go to some here one decade, gone the next retail clothing chain found in malls all across America. Trapped in these cubes overwhelmed by perfumed scents and industrial lighting surely i would get beaten into normalcy. Wrong.

On both occasions i somehow managed to find a collection of garments to wear that was not all that far a deviation from my own everyday look. Not quite what i would wear on a daily basis but surely far from what they were hoping to see me in. This became quite apparent by the looks on the organizers' faces at both event. i will technically call that a win and a 2-0 record to date.

For most of my life you could tell i was a skate punk by looking at me. Although in recent years i have had the luxury of being able to shop at skate shops and online this was not the norm for the first possibly two decades of my existence. During trips with mum to buy clothes i was stuck in the confines of Bradlees, malls, Salvation Army's, and neighborhood hand-me-downs at various times throughout my chldhood as the financial foundations of my family altered as i grew.

Although i may not have gotten to wear exactly what i wanted to (as much a result of my mother's strong hand as anything else) i still did find way in the compromise to display my ideals and interests. Even today i see that ingenuity in kids expressing themselves no matter the amount of money available to them. Making statements with a roll, an untuck, a decision to button or not button something, a lacing pattern or positioning of a sneaker tongue, the twist of a hat, a rip, a tare, a safety pin, or the use of a sharpie.

What you choose to wear and how you choose to wear it tells a lot about the decisions you make. That guy in the convertible BMW with frosted tips is making a statement. That women at the ice cream stand wearing sweatpants is making a statement. That guy in the muscle shirt wearing a gold chain is making a statement.

We may not all be able to look exactly the way we would like to. In fact most of us cannot for various reasons but the clothing choices we make (even the compromised ones) are like little flags we hold up showing which side we stand with.

Sure people can always surprise you and of course it is unhealthy to only spend time with people exactly like yourself, but we are lying to ourselves when we say you can't judge a book by its cover. Your clothing is an opportunity to express yourself and it shows the types of decisions you make.

Besides, when was the last time anyone walked through a bookstore and just randomly started picking up books and reading their first few pages to decide which one to buy? That dust jacket grabbed your attention you fucking liar, and then you read the BACK COVER. i am sure my back cover got read today, how about yours?

Gay Marriage And Vegans On Scooters: Redneck Horror Film Or Sarah Palin's Nightmare

Sometimes the best argument is choosing not to have the argument. Unless, of course 'the argument' is referring to the Fugazi album and then you should listen as much as possible.

i have found my argument for the environment lately lying somewhere between my rant in support of gay marriage and a random vegan girl on a scooter. In a brief conversation with said scooterist we both realized that we had both been vegans for 10 years now. This got me looking back over my last 16 meat free years. Reminiscing if you will.

The biggest surprise-difficulty i had in my early years of vegetarianism was dealing with non-vegetarians. This in fact turned out to be a tougher thing than actually finding meat-free edibles. i became a vegetarian primarily out of empathy. If it was possible to live a healthy lifestyle without having to kill another living animal i figured we were both better off for it. i did not realize that this almost simple "live and let live" type of reasoning would anger so many people. i did not, nor do i now, preach vegetarianism or veganism. It is a choice i made for myself. i am happy to talk about it when people inquire but i had never thought i would have to defend against quite aggressive arguing about my very personal choice.

Back then i quickly realized how much healthier my new lifestyle was and how much better it was for the environment and these were much easier arguments to make as they were factual rather than the moral ideal i had for making the choice in the first place. i would return people's arguments for years, the most stubborn of which were family members. i would have to respond to the exact same arguments EVERY YEAR around the large Thanksgiving dinner table. i became very unthankful for that holiday.

Despite memorizing all those facts and figures, despite reciting all those well respected minds over the generations who have made the same decision that i had; those who had baited me into the arguments seemed to just get angrier and angrier and seemed to listen less and less as they began to yell more and more. In my early days of a meat-free lifestyle my heart was not a good enough reason for them and i soon after discovered that facts were just as wasted on these deniers.

Oddly enough, since becoming a vegan i still have some who are genuinely interested who inquire and ask questions but almost no one ever attempts to bait me into arguments. i wonder if vegetarians are seen as gentler and weaker foes to these people where vegans may seem more militant to them and appear as a more difficult target to try and bully. Maybe it is just because i am no longer a kid. Maybe it is the ever increasing number of visible tattoos that wards them off.

These haunting memories have been swirling in my head as i have been watching sound-bites from anti-gay activists who i realized had the same look on their face as those who repeatedly would bait me into violent arguments about my eating habits. Days later again i saw that same look on the faces of people screaming out against medical insurance for all. This got me thinking even more, not about avoiding television news broadcasts (which would probably be better for my health) but about something else.

The scientist in me is always looking for the common denominator. Newton looking for that explanation of why all things fell to the ground. Einstein looked for that one beautiful equation that would explain all of science. i looked for that common denominator for that "look".

Over the next few days i scanned over video stored in the gray matter locked up behind my skull. i tried to scan my life's memories for times where i had seen that look in others before. Until now i had not realized just how many times i had seen that exact look. i saw it in every racist comment i have heard others mutter. i saw it on big tobacco executives claiming cigarettes were fine for so many years. i continue to see it in the eyes of those who deny climate change.

That look of contempt. That look of elitism. That look of anger bordering on hatred at the though of you even questioning their belief. As if i had committed some heinous sin against God Almighty in possibly even commenting something contrary to their mind set.

That look of an impenetrable wall with no door, window, or even slight crack through which a new idea could squeak through.

And in that moment i discovered my new argument for the environment: there is no argument. i plan on never arguing for the environment from this moment forward. i would not argue with someone whether blacks should be forced to sit on the back of the bus because the simple fact that they are trying to argue the idea means that they are not allowing room to change their mind, they are just trying to force their beliefs onto someone else. i am happy to converse and discuss the environment with anyone but i will no longer argue. Arguing is simply one side attempting to violently force their ideals onto the other side.

When it comes to the environment the facts are there. They are sound. They are the truth. Those looking for the truth will always have my ear and my time. i will help them in any way that i can. Those who seek to obscure or cloud the truth will no longer bait me. They will belittle and bully while looking for personal weaknesses to hammer away at and i choose not to participate in their destructive game. While millions appear to enjoy watching the talking heads do just that i fully acknowledge just how counter-productive the action is. With all that yelling their is nobody listening and i implore all those out there who are environmentally minded to resist the urge to engage in these arguments and to resist the urge to respond to their baiting whether it be in town hall meetings or Internet post threads. To respond is on some level to legitimize their lies.

Do not be foolish in thinking that this is a sign that i am any less determined to do what i can or that i am any less determined to take strong actions. i just want you to realize that when i choose to raise my voice it will not be to enter into an argument with you but rather to inform you that this discussion is over. The truth is the truth no matter what people may choose to believe. To argue is simply a waste of time and that is exactly what those who argue are intent on doing: waste time.

Useless Wooden Toys Are More Powerful Than Guns

Once again, skateboarding saves lives. It did mine.

How many heads?

Star Wars, 80's horror movies, and night terrors yet the most disturbing creatures ever imagined seem to still come from ancient texts. We are talking about some truly fucked up shite in writings that have somehow become staples of our civilization.

While reading the other day i had to look up a creature referenced that i had not heard of before. It turned out to be one of two monsters that guarded either side of a channel in the Mediterranean see. i will spare the wholly unnatural creature created in this ancient folklore but if you locked me in a haunted house with a sheet of LSD and projected Freaks on loop in the kitchen and i could not have come up with any creature remotely as messed up and truly disturbing as that.

Have you ever actually ever sat down and read Revelations in the best selling book of all time, the Bible? Seven headed monsters eating children from the womb? What the fuck was going on in our early civilizations?

i remember a few years back being disturbed by the movie Hostel. That movie, however, is not nearly and mind-warping as the stories recorded form Greek, Latin, and Biblical times, yet these stories are not rated and are made readily available to people of all ages.

Although, possibly i have this all wrong. Maybe humans from antiquity lacked the creativity to devise stories how man-made machines would produce pollution that ended the human race and instead opted for the hybrid-creatures with multiple dog heads. i am not sure which way i would rather go out. It depends if i had a golden clock-work owl robot to guide my way or not.

i may not sleep for a few nights now. Thanks ancient texts.

Married?

Yes Donger, married.

i too am one of those people absolutely irate over the gay marriage issue right now, although not for the same reasons as the religious zealots and Fox News talking heads. i have completely lost all tolerance for the intolerant of this country... strike that, THE WORLD. If you are going to get pissed off get pissed off big. Yes i do realize this seems oxymoronical, smart ass, follow along though. (Maybe it is time to start handing out a few O.U.P.'s) Gay rights are civil rights that are too long overdue (as are happy rights if you think about it).

i could easily take the bait of those who claim it would "lessen" the sanctity of marriage by discussing in extreme depth how marriage has been lessened by heterosexuals but arguing that something is no longer good and then saying everyone should have the right to do it would be quite counter-productive. "Hey, this tastes like shit... try some!" Also, i am not a large mouthed bass.

Stupidmuthafuckers who bring up the whole "next they'll want to marry their dogs" should instantly have their tongues and reproductive organs removed instantly using the same methods used to de-beak chickens raised for their food (look it up if you are uninformed). Part of being informed is knowing when to not bother having discussions with people who have no sense of logic. You just end up losing brain cells in the process.

Nor do i feel the need to express my personal experiences and beliefs about marriage or in any way discuss my sexual preferences. It has nothing at all to do with the real issue here.

Homosexuals deserve the same rights to marry as heterosexuals. It is that simple, that crisp, that clear. If someone says to you that African Americans should still be able to be kept as slaves do you enter into a discussion with them? NO! You tell them to shut the fuck up. In fact, there are many instances in recent history where such hateful racist statements have been deemed acceptable grounds for a physical response of self-defense under some hate law interpretations.

As angry as this intolerance has made me it is, in fact, not what actually pushed me over the edge into a near rage over this issue. i have lived too long and have become too jaded to think that ignorance could be wiped from our country. Instead it is the spinelessness of politicians which has finally caused my revving into the red zone (play appropriate TOP GUN soundtrack anthem here).

i happen to live in one of those states where gay marriage has passed. One might think: hooray, one battle won. Not quite grasshopper. Before it has even had time to be enacted it is almost inevitably going to be put to a public vote, as has happened in almost every other state who has passed this. In a typically weak, Pontius Pilate like move to wash their hands clean of the subject, the elected officials are not doing their jobs of ensuring and preserving our freedoms as dictated by their roles in our country's government.

If the decision of freeing the slaves was put to a vote in this country at the time it was enacted those who were allowed to vote would most assuredly have voted against it. If giving women the right to vote was voted upon at the time of it's enactment by those allowed to vote it most assuredly would not have passed. On a closer and possibly more applicable note, if the right for interracial marriage was voted upon by those allowed to vote at the time of it's enactment it too would most assuredly not have passed.

All these examples and many, many more just like them were situations where politicians stood up and said that this is the right thing to do. In this land of equality, not just for the many but for everyone, these rights needed to be granted. It is what made this country what it was. That is right, what it was.

The United States of America is supposed to be the land of the free. i have been disappointed in my country and my flag for far too long and i think it is time to start reclaiming MY country, MY land of the free. Maybe it is time to start sewing American Flag patches alongside my punk and skateboarding patches and start helping to reclaim and redefine this land of the free.

Freedom does not mean majority rule. No matter what your no-necked coach/social studies teacher may have conveyed to you i assure you. Freedom means all kinds are allowed to live and all kinds are given the same rights no matter racial, sexual, religious, or genetic differences.

Somewhere along the way we have allowed freedom to attach itself to voting and/or a "majority knows what is right" kind of mentality. That was never the intent in either the Constitution or the Bill Of Rights. If the United States wants to regain it's role as a world leader it needs to reclaim what made it the envy of all of our ancestors who struggled so to get here. They did not leave their home countries behind because this was the land of the cheap box stores. They did not leave their relatives behind because this was the home of the Whopper. They endured hardships so that their children could be raised in the land of the free, where they would all have an equal chance at pursuing happiness.

Pick-up truck driving muthafuckers who want to yell "freedom isn't free" to me right now can start lining up to suck farts out of my asshole. An army fighting on foreign lands for political reasons is not what is going to ensure freedom in this country. Freedom and safety (or security) are not attached terms either and should not ever be used interchangeably. If we really want to be the land of the free we need to start drawing the line in the sand here at home and start ensuring the freedoms of the citizens of this country that are far overdue.

People in this country who are in love deserve to have every right afforded to them. The hate of a majority or minority can never be allowed to overrule such rights. Freedom and love are not just hippie-dippie terms for bumper stickers, they are the only things that count in a society.

Wishing Him Well

In case you have not heard already.

My Sound Is Math

As a geek i can tend to find solace, at times, in numbers. i have done just that over the weekend. Here is a map of how i got there before i further elaborate on my calculations. A little set up if you will.

i have been very appreciative as of late realizing just how good it is to be me this summer. There have been some great experiences so far and several are still planned, not accounting for any surprise greatness which may lie ahead. One category of planned enjoyment this summer involves shows coming to my general area of the country.

My ladyfriend and i decided last year to cut back on our number of shows attended as we tighten our belts during these turbulent economic times. We agreed to only see special and unique shows that we could not stand to miss. i have indeed turned down quite a few shows but man this summer has some real hum-dingers i could not afford NOT to see.

Rise Against and Rancid (after one had a mediocre album the other put out a career best), Rival Schools back together and opening up for someone, and the return of all original Sunny Day Real Estate band members... good summer to be me.

Still no math? It is coming.

i got thinking about which show i was looking forward to the most with all these amazing tickets sitting in my desk drawer. Rise Against and Rancid: two great live bands i have seen before. i really am partial to Rise Against's last guitarist but know they put on consistently good performances, seeming to get better every time i see them. Rancid too is a solid live show and i am sooo addicted to their new album. Both bands, however, have seen considerable success over the years so although the show should be great it is inevitable that there will be some "goofers" at the show either becoming fans through Guitar Hero or other such sources. Still very excited though and i am quite happy that both bands are able to make a comfortable living making great music.

Next in chronological order comes the Rival Schools show. These tickets will go down as one of the best birthday presents i have ever received. i made peace with the idea that Walter had moved on to other projects when out of nowhere came these tickets... SWEET! i will most likely buy one of each type of merch at the show. The weakness, however, is they are opening up for Eagles of Death Metal. i do not like death metal, serious or ironically used. i will be leaving that show early and have made peace with it not being a Rival Schools headline show. This is indeed the set that i am looking forward to seeing the most this year... that is right: this year.

Lastly comes the return of Sunny Day Real Estate in their original line-up. Diary is one of the best albums to come out of the 90's and is responsible for truly defining a new genre. Y'up, emotional hardcore was really defined by this album more than any other single album. You want to argue it with me? Go ahead, you do not stand a chance.

Now as excited as i am about this incredible show i still am more excited about seeing Rival Schools live. But there is something extremely special i feel when thinking about this specific concert. It is truly a Sunny Day Real Estate show. They are not opening up for another band. The people who go are going, are going to see them. Not someone else. Even more unique is that Sunny Day Real Estate have never seen the successes of bands like Rise Against or Rancid. The people going to this show are going to just be true Sunny Day Real Estate fans.

How fucking cool is that crowd going to be? Really! If your are me (and you probably are not, but you could be as i am sure someone has pulled off human cloning in some secret lab somewhere) this is going to be a pretty comfortable group of people to spend an evening in a room with. The asshole factor at this show should me near nill.

This is how the math began. Our planet is horribly overpopulated with approximately 6.9 billion people. No matter what your particular interest or set of interests at least 1% of the population must share at least similar types of interests. In selecting 1% i figured that this is a safely conservative percentage to go with.

Without getting into a full dissertation explaining the 1% it seems fairly safe to say that 1% of the population shares much in common with you from interests, to illnesses, to beleifs and ideals. That is approximately 69 million people. 69 million! Even if i just look at the country i live in with about 307 million people that still leaves 1% just over 3 million people. That is right, in my own country there are that many people who have similar interests or feelings or troubles.

Fuck... i am really not as alone as i might feel at times. Now that 1% may not be enough to take over the world and although they could potentially change things it is improbable on a large scale. But i was not intending on masterminding a coup (at least not this weekend). i was just helped in finding a little more peace with the aid of math. None of us are all that alone in this world.

Whenever i bump into someone i believe may be a part of my 1% i am going to try and enjoy it for all it is worth. i will keep an eye out for them like pennies on the ground, previously overlooked and unnoticed.

No Retractions For My Reactions

That last one felt good but seems uselessly unproductive. i will work on another soon as so it does not linger around like one of those celebrity death stories.

That previous sentence's word choices brought about the thought of a horribly rancid smell. Yuck!

Up until recently i had mostly thought of Rancid as a noun (the band) until a non-punk listening friend reminded me of it's use as an adjective. Now i am dedicated to using it in it's adjective form more frequently, possibly while listening to the band.

Celebrity Deaths: The New Reality Television

Apparently dropping cable for the summer was not enough. i was quite enjoying the ability to just scan through a handful of stations to see if anything worth watching was on and then turning the TV off if nothing was on those few channels. Although a few home shopping channels somehow survived the cut i am markedly happier not having to ever skip though those cable news channels. They ALL regularly over-sensationalize some story (and they all seem to always pick the same story... intriguing) and cover it for an entirely inappropriate length of time. i have always found it to be down right badgering.

Unfortunately lately, even with the removal of myself from the cable news world i am again feeling utterly badgered by the media. No, the paparazzi are not digging through my garbage or taking pictures of me and my ladyfriend as we leave the movie theater. i am referring to the death of Michael Jackson.

Soon after his death i decided i would not rant about him. i would not rant about him being a broken human being likely due to his abuse as a child. i would not rant about his being a child molester (yeah he was not found guilty but neither was OJ). i would not rant about his medically altered appearance/transformation. Whatever beefs and problems i may have had no longer matter. He is dead. He is no longer causing problems, he is no longer experiencing problems. Picking a fight with a corpse is pointlessly one sided and unfair.

Picking a fight with a ghost however is a completely different story. How would that work? i could not throw punches but do ghosts have feelings to hurt? Where could i get my hands on a proton gun like the Ghostbusters? Would i have to sign a waiver stating that i promised not to cross streams?

Michael Jackson is not my problem right now. The media coverage of his death is. As i am attempting to mature and become a better person i am trying to be more patient, more meditative, attempting to let things go, allowing things to just run their course. This just will not fucking go away though!

i have tried very hard but tonight i finally reached my tipping point. i have avoided the TV. i have skipped viewing online news sites (figuring someone would tell me if we entered a third war... or are we up to three already? i keep losing track). But today while grocery shopping it happened. While rolling (yes rolling, one foot on shopping cart/trolley the other kicking) down the chip/magazine isle i snuck a peak to see if anything good was in the new issue of Thrasher Magazine. It was as if i was wondering through an amusement park's Hall of Mirrors and ol' MJ himself were standing right behind me. His face was EVERYWHERE.

The week of his death: to be expected. The week after his death: sure, this was their last chance - last opportunity to use him to continue selling magazines. i figured they would milk it but how many weeks do we have to endure? Magazines with nothing to do with music or celebrities still have him on the cover.

A few years back, some of you may remember the days and weeks following September eleventh. We were told "United We Stand", light a candle and put it on your front steps, then go back to shopping at the mall otherwise the terrorist will win.

Here we are WEEKS after the death of a pop star (that is right: a pop star, no matter how much you fucking liked him as an artists he was still JUST A POP STAR) and it is still getting more media attention than this same number of weeks after the United States was attacked by a terrorist plot.

At this point anyone who views the media as a credible source for knowledge deserves to have their head examined... no, strike that. Save the money of getting their heads examined (as these are tough financial times and all) for i can tell you, expensive scan free, that their heads are empty. Buying and watching this shite only encourages the media, but of course this would not still be going on if people did not continue to eat this shite up and spend ridiculous amounts of money along the way.

The odder of my Irish American relatives have always seemed oddly overjoyed at the prospect of going to funerals. It appears that the rest of America has (hopefully only temporarily) caught this same odd personality tick. Maybe it is just society using one of it's artist to live out their emotions once again. With the globe in a financial pit, our planet's environment degrading, and seemingly endless wars people were possibly looking for an excuse to vent their grief, their sadness. Were they all just grasping for some unifying tragedy to express themselves through?

Ah fuck it. We are not a bunch of two year olds. Quite your fucking whining. When it comes to serious issues everyone claims ADD. Now all of a sudden these same people have been focused on one issue for weeks on end. This is just like a fucking baseball game: excruciating to witness and having no set time limit. Was that lightning? Lets end this game.

Dying Is Easy, Maturing Is Not

On a recent trip visiting two of the world's skateboarding meccas i found a shirt that i wanted to buy, but alas i did not. Yes it was in my size and yes it was the only appropriate color for a punk monk: black. The allure of the t-shirt was the slogan which was also its problem.

The shirt in question read "Live Fast - Die Young". A classic saying in both the punk and skateboarding movements. This shirt was found on the final leg of my ten day journey. i had seen a lot and lived a lot over the previous few days. As with my typical methods of operation i had maintained a net sense of balance over the duration of the vacation from a series of extremes. Some incredibly amazing experiences (possibly making their way onto lifetime top ten lists) and some incredibly low experiences (forcing me to learn hardened lessons that i had most likely learned before yet seem to have forgotten if only momentarily).

i indeed had felt like i was living fast, which is what brought on the initial strong desire to purchase said t-shirt. It was the latter half of the saying that brought my almost impulse purchase to a screeching halt as if the front wheel of my skateboard had hit a pebble in the road while bombing down a San Franciscan hill. As i had been reminded on several occasions whilst on that trip i knew in my gut (which is not as firm and muscular as it once was) that i was no longer capable of dying young.

To clarify, no i was not bitten by a vampire stewardess while flying to my destination hence making me immortal and like olde Ponce De Leon i had not found the fountain of youth. i cannot die young because i am no longer young. Sure i am just a kid compared to the one hundred year olds that nutbag Willard Scott gives shout outs to and i do think of myself as young at heart but were a meteor to come crashing through my roof right now and strike me deceased i am certain the obituary written would not include the saying "died young".

Although Einstein may have informed us that time is not constant i am indeed growing older (as i am not moving anywhere near the speed of light). Therefore i must acknowledge the limitations of my age, if even just to lash out fighting against them.

i will not give up skateboarding and i will not give up listening to punk music no matter how old i get. Call me immature but both seem to be getting easier to do as of recent for us aging punk monks. Having to wake up early for work has made me realize that there is a part of the day that occurs after 2 am but before noon. In fact, getting to a skate spot in the morning usually means you get to skate it all by yourself, as luck would have it.

And as far as listening to punk music, well it just so happens that aging punkers are making some of their best music aimed at their own generation and are not all just trying to get new teenage fans. i cannot stop listening to the new Rancid record (yes record, they did indeed sell it on vinyl). It shows, dare i say, maturity in both musicianship and lyric while at a pace that contends with punk tempo of any era or generation. An addictive listen.

With bands like Sunny Day Real Estate and Rival Schools doing reunion tours this is not a bad summer to be an aging punk monk. Although i no longer can die young i do intend on living fast for as long as i am able to breathe and hopefully that will be for many more years.

New Look Now With Only 75% The Angst

Finally changed it about. With new look i am also hoping to get back into regular updates as this should turn out to be quite the summer for it. Living life is more important though so i shall not make any promises.

Wait for it... wait for it...

A new and revised 1punkmonk will be coming soon!

In the meantime do yourself a favor and listen to the new Rancid album. Speaking of meantime, i think i need to go listen to some Helmet right now.

Super Heroes And 100 Days

The public loves super heroes, especially when times are tough. Most of the classics where born in the era of WWII. Once again we find the public enamored with the recent big screen incarnations of our favorite comics. But what does this mean for us?

There are two types of people in life, no matter the situation: the spectators and the participants. Both are greatly attracted to super heroes. The participants enjoy the characters as inspiration. What if? If only! They envision themselves in the lead character's role. They wish they had the strength, the power to save others... to save us. They need these stories to carry on for daily we are all reminded of our own limits. They are motivated by these tales to keep going forward, to keep fighting the good fight, because sometimes (just sometimes) one person CAN make a difference.

As a participant gets older they realize, more and more with time, that the general populous are spectators and require the strength of the few participants to carry us forward. They can be re-energized with tales of these super heroes or they can slowly devolve into spectators.

But the spectators, too, need these super hero characters. When sitting and drinking while watching baseball (or American football depending on the time of year) is no longer enough to distract them from the woes of the world they need their super heroes. They know that they are not going to actually DO anything that may help out the greater good so they need to be coddled by the super hero tale letting them know that someone much greater than themselves will indeed come and save them at the last minute.

That person indeed needs to be super as the spectator does so enjoy tearing down the common man, especially if that common man makes the spectator uneasy because that person DOES STUFF. What do all these super heroes have in common? They all work out side of the system. The general populace does not have faith that cops, soldiers, or politicians can save them. This way the spectators can still believe that they will be saved while still being able to enjoy ridiculing those they have selected or hired to run things or keep the peace.

Meanwhile, this also entertains the participants because they know that most of the politicians, cops, and soldiers are the same spectators they are surrounded by in everyday life. They frequently see themselves as outsiders themselves.

So as we are bombarded by political assessments of the Obama administration as it nears it's first 100 days and as we are approaching the release of the next Wolverine feature film i am forced to think of super hero tales. Judging a president's first 100 days fits into our super hero parameters as mentioned above. One side expects our elected super hero to solve all our problems within 100 days (if this was possible presidential terms would last 100 days instead of four years) while the other knows that this is impossible and ecstatically awaits the inevitable passing of this useless time marker to resume mocking said elected super hero official.

i guess i am left with no choice but to start bombarding myself with Gama radiation in hopes of becoming the super hero we all so desperately need as i have nowhere near enough money to be the next Batman or Ironman. Also, we do need another green super hero... pun intended.

Fuck Media For Your Own Sanity

As a child i had a Snoopy pillowcase that said "Happiness is...". Even as a child i knew how true that pillowcase was. At that young age i knew that what brought happiness was different for each individual. i knew that what made me happy was different than what made my friend, my fellow superhero, my partner in crime, my dog - happy. That little patch of sun-warmed floor did not bring me the same joy i could see on his fur-lined face.

i knew that the special edition, pre-Empire release, mail-order Boba Fett action figure which changed my life did not bring the same amount of happiness to my parents (except that they were probably overjoyed that i would stop asking if it was here yet every time the mailman came to the house). No, indeed what brings happiness to each of us is very personal and unique.

What makes us unhappy, however, seems to be quite common and similar no matter who you are. One such thing is news media. More powerful than any dose of prescription grade happy pills is the simple act of removing the news media from your life. A pie plate full of rhinoceros dung to the face would be less depressing than watching any of the 24-hour news stations.

The collapse of the newspaper industry as it has grown utterly out of date has been helpful to this end but television just seems to feed into itself like some endlessly ear piercing feedback loop from an amp turned up to eleven. One station makes a ridiculous statement and then all the other stations carry a story about it.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the day and age of the internet. If you are reading this you are indeed connected. It would be nearly impossible for one to drive in any direction for more than 5 minutes without finding some connection to the internet. You may even have it on your own cellphone.

Now, picture your favorite talking head of choice from that station you go to for those breaking news stories. Now, tell me how one day he/she/it seems to be your source of financial news, the next your source of political news, and the next your source of environmental news? That must be one smart muthafucker. Actually, they are just regurgitating some talking point given to them and then coming up with some opinion based on that fraction of a second of thought time.

All information seen, heard, or read form these news corporations is funneled through the filter of a handful of the same people at each outlet. Rarely do they have any particular knowledge of the things that they still feel comfortable reporting on each and every day. So, who is the bigger idiot: them of the people listening to them?

Again, back to the joys of the internet. Get on and get your information, not from some well lit pile of make-up and hairspray but from the actual source. Want information on the environment, go to an environmental site, or a leading scientist's site, or better yet, actually look up legitimate papers published in scientific journals on the subject in question. A little better than your daily reporter now wearing cargo shorts on the latest "green week" programing.

Financial information? Look up the stocks, check on the company's latest earnings, mission statements, and future plans all online. Do not trust some idiot with a bat and sound effects.

Politics? Good luck, they all lie anyway so if you find a source of truth somewhere you let me know.

Fuck the news media. Just like with all fucking, you will find yourself much more relaxed and calm afterwards. You will probably find yourself wanting to do it more often in the future as well. Find happiness. Less news, more piece of mind.

The Crystal Method Knew What They Were Talking About

America built up Obama, and now i am just waiting to see how long it takes them to tear him down. It is what the country loves to do, more than anything else... even more than shopping and gorging themselves on fast food. He is a smart guy though, and i am sure he knows this simple fact and will act accordingly.

You see, America loves the underdog and sees themselves as underdogs no matter how much that is not the case. Americans need things to get bad (or at least seem bad) so they can get a fix of their drug of choice: HOPE. Hope is necessary for the underdog. It keeps them going. It keeps them fighting. Go ahead, start chanting your favorite "Rudy, Rudy" or "Rocky, Rocky" or whatever underdog movie icon you hold so dear and watch time and time again.

Americans love hope because it is the belief that thing can and will get better, things can and will be all right. The thing is hope does not actually require you to do anything. It is all the sugar high without the nutrition. Americans do not want to change, in fact they do not want to do much of anything. They still want that good feeling though and hope delivers just that.

Obama is going to have to sneak the necessary changes in without people really being aware that they are changing. Like those gummy fruit lunch snacks you find in the chip isle that contain 100% of your daily vitamin C. They sell because they really are just candy but you got a little of what you need thrown in there.

I pray that he can pull it off, although if he does it the way i think he needs too i will not even realize that he has pulled it off. i will just wake up one day and notice that he snuck it in there.

Wall of Death

Y'up, day late... anyway...

i realized today that everything is like the pit. You see, punk and punk influenced music is an outlet for aggression. The pit was an area that you could just let go: dance, pogo, slam, do the smurf, whatever your heart desired. Sometimes you would get hit and sometimes you would hit someone. You were not trying to hit them specifically and they were not trying to hit you specifically so all was good. They were just there like you. It was an outlet, there were understood yet unwritten behaviors and protocols, and the bumps and bruises felt almost better than the flailing you did yourself.

Like all things that start out good, it got into the wrong hands and would never be the same. The jocks saw it, the frat boys saw it, and suddenly Neanderthals were hopping in and taking aim turning it into gym class with a substitute teacher. i do not remember getting "slimed" by some 'dude's' sweat when it was just us punk kids.

Capitalism, communism, socialism, you name it. i am sure they all started out with the best of intentions and probably all worked well at first, when everyone was playing by the understood yet unwritten behaviors and protocols. Eventually, as it seems with all things, they each fell into the wrong hands and never were the same afterwards.

Figuring out how to keep things out of the wrong hands is more worthwhile a goal than coming up with a great idea to begin with. If only someone could figure that one out.

WWIII: Us Vs Climate

Americans never take action until it is almost too late. Why should climate change be any different?

i could use all kinds of historical referrences to prove my point but alas, wether it be our failed school systems or short attention spans i shall opt for a commonly known reference: WWII. Yes that topic that gives high school history teachers a hardon. That event from our world's past that has helped to keep the History Channel on the air.

There is still even a time honored Hollywood tradition where they must release a pre-deturmined number of Nazi-themed movies a year. Even Tom Cruise, who worships an alien, has some WWII knowledge. Anti-depressants are a scam, but alien penal collonies reality? Whatever you say Tommy boy.

Back to our point though. As the rest of the world seemed at war with the Axis powers (Germany, Italia, Japan) the U.S. was content to remain crying into their milkless cereal bowls using a depression and nationalism as excuses for not getting involved.

But a cocky Japan forced the hand of U.S.A. (not sure what they were thinking waking a sleeping giant). We all know the rest so i will spare the redundancy. Now every time a European upsets an American the inevitable comeback "without us you'd be speaking German right now" gets muttered and then the average American wonders why most Europeans do not have the highest opinion of U.S. culture.

In an attempt to possibly re-live the events of the past the U. S. of A. seem to need something equally as extreme and tragic to make them pay attention to climate change, which threatens the world in far more dire ways than WWII ever could have. $4 a gallon gas shurely did next to nothing to wake the sleeping giant. Oh, wait, how about Katrina? There was some awareness that was raised but as a country the U.S. was easily distracted by Rock Band and other trivial things. Many areas of the gulf coast still are desimated as America's short attention span has moved on to worrying about all those filthy rich people who are losing money in the stock market. Forget about those left without homes.

So conveniently America uses a depression as an excuse for not tackeling a problem that is once again facing all of us. Unlike WWII action taken now will still not stop things from getting worse over the next few decades, and by the time something happens that finally grabs their attention we may have passed a point were it is too late.

Why not take some strong and decisive steps, if for no other reason than so that a decade from now Americans, drunk and lounging around on resort beaches can shout "without us, you'd be under water right now".

Social Commentary Sundays

Yup, i haven't been doing much here on 1 Punk Monk but i am aiming to re-adjust starting here and now.

Sundays will now be known as "Social Commentary Sundays"... so as you return to the grind of work on Mondays you will be able to look forward to a new 1 Punk Monk entry. Happy Monday all, just try not to punch anyone out upon your return to work as i have not gotten the O.U.P. passed by congress yet. But come on, wouldn't that make work that much more fun.

Outdoor Kid

Most of our core beliefs and personality traits are easily traced back to our early childhood. As a child i was an "outdoor kid" much like how people deem their cats outdoor or indoor cats. i remember waking up in the morning, being fed, then being slid out the door.



In these modern times i may have been labeled a "free-range" kid. Whatever you choose to stamp on my forehead, this upbringing had a significant impact on who i have become. All that time on the grass, under trees, watching squirrels & snakes, birds & bugs; gave me a healthy appreciation for the environment and life in general. i observed all those little living things while i myself was just a little living thing. i feel a bond with all life and that influences many of my daily decisions.



Being an "outdoor kid" also meant i was not under constant parental supervision (that instead came as i grew older oddly enough). i was only as safe as i kept myself. To this day i rarely wear a helmet during activities requiring such equipment, but it taught me to safely push my limits while being reasonable about what i could pull off. Throw a helmet on someone and they think they are invincible. Constantly watch someone and they will learn to do what you want them too. No helmet, no watchful eyes, and you end up with a kid who is independent yet grounded. That or you end up with no kid... survival of the fittest i guess in this overpopulated world of ours.



For better or for worse i am glad i was an "outdoor kid". If i go even most of a day without getting outside i start clawing at the walls, but i am self-motivated, self-aware, and driven by an interconnected feeling of being part of LIFE.



While "indoor kids" may invent great yet safe things like iPods and Blackberries "outdoor kids" invent stuff like skateboarding and punk rock. i worry that as we over sanitize our youth and child-proof the planet that future generations may miss out on "outdoor kid's" contributions that help balance things out.



Maybe we will not even survive long enough to ever see if that happens.

Nine Minutes

As i move towards trying to rant less i shall continue to dwell of the mundane and explore it more fully.  As string theory attempts to find some unifying set of explanations for what is observed on the micro-scale versus the almost opposing observations on the macro-scale i will attempt to unite the 1 Punk Monk theology by simultaneous study of the larger issues (as frequently ranted upon in the past) and the often overlooked and seemingly meaningless daily activities.

At the very least this will be an exercise in writing.

Today's study: the snooze button

i set my alarm for approximately half an hour earlier than i intend on getting out of bed.  The elongated snooze button on the front of my slim, black, iPod ready alarm clock will delay the further play of the previous night's song selection by nine minutes.  i would have preferred a more metrically chosen 10 minute increment (as i would have chosen Apple to have selected better quality keyboards) but as i had nothing to do with the design of said alarm clock i must settle with the odd imperial-ish nine minute increment.

So thirty minutes before my intended time of exit from the horizontal plane into the vertical my alarm first sounds.  Depending on the previous night's mood it could be anything ranging from Mingus to Minor Threat.  i wish that there was a way to surprise myself but as few people have ever been successful at surprising me i find i cannot manage to surprise myself either.

The disproportionately stretched out oval bar design for snooze buttons across the globe must have come from extensive research.  That first attempt at awakening seems to only slightly trigger the most basic of primordial brain functions as thoughtless motor patterns thrust my otherwise still limp hand onto the thankfully large target of said snooze button.

My brain now has nine minutes to fully reboot.

With the exception of the least amount of arm muscles possible, my body (including eye lids) remains completely in it's full-on sleep state. After the initial nine minute period the iPod begins to glow and several fractions of a second later the music starts to fill the quiet void once again.

This time my brain has regained function enough to take control of my eyelids long enough to sneak a peak at the time now displayed by the clock's cool-glowing, back lit, LCD screen.  The subconsciously driven arm flails again and stops the music.  This brief glance gives my brain enough information to determine the level of motivation needed.

If brain succeeded in rebooting within the first snooze increment all is well as we are only nine minutes into scheduled half hour of sleep-depressurization.  Had something gone wrong and the reverse pendulum arm fell yet again before the mind went online an immediate warning would have gone out to all body sectors warning of hitting the eighteen minute mark without full system protocol achieved.

More often than not the brain hits it's appropriate mark and the body acknowledges with a groan and a roll spring loading the next checkpoint as it falls back into it's slumber.  As we enter the eighteenth minute the song plays again.  This time muscle memory alone will not be enough to get the hand over to the snooze button.  This time the body must roll itself back over to allow the arm proper reach to alarm clock.  The requires more of the body to wake and coordinate to achieve the ultimate goal of a return to sleep.  This also allows the brain more time in passing to observe the time displayed and allows more body part to be awake enough to receive commands.

Snooze has reset, brain has regained some more control, much of body still enjoys nine more minutes of rest now collapsed onto it's stomach.

The twenty seventh minute mark is met. Music resumes.  This is it.  A mear three minutes remains until the covers must come off and the day must start.  The body cries out in protest as the music continues on, it's mumblings muffled in the pillow.  In one fluid motion the body rolls onto it's back while simultaneously casting off the covers.  The loss of the blanket womb combined with the cooler bedroom air kick-starts the driving motion needed to get the souls of the feet to the floor.

As the legs push the torso up against the hug of gravity the now more dexterous fingers find the significantly smaller alarm off button, while the opposite arm reaches for the light switch.  Within a scrunched up face the pupils adjust to the new light and the body concludes it's graceful, gradual gradient into the beginning of the day.

Somewhere between here and twelve o'clock i finally reach my fully awake state.

There is always a bigger fish...

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