The Kids All Suck

I get a lot of dirty looks whenever I go to punk shows now. It's not because of how I look or dress. For the most part, all grown up punks dress the same, no matter how cleverly they try and describe it. The things I talk about aren't really punk matters. I don't agree with most of their political philosophies: both Nazi and radical left. I don't agree with most of their life philosophies. I'm not Vegan. I'm not straight-edge. I'm not for legalizing drugs. I don't give a shit about strangers I have no connection to. I don't really give a shit about the world. I don't really give a shit about anything really. I'm about as nihilistic as one could be for a twenty-two year old drunk.

The thing is, I don't flaunt this. People ask me questions so I respond, and that response is usually met with dissappointment: you mean you AREN'T one of us? No. I'm not. I use to be. There was a time in my life when all of this bullshit actually meant something to me. That time was called adolecence. That was the only time I felt like being idealistic and pushing me views onto other kids. I hated the government. I hated white people. I hated Democrats who "felt for me" and wanted to exploit me. I was all in line with that idea of white guilt.

When I moved to Washington DC I expected to find a legion of kids who felt the same way I did. I was sadly mistaken. I found many a rich-kids who told me they knew what it was like to be poor because THEY CHOSE to live a life of poverty. Excuse me? Fuck you. I didn't choose to grow up with less. That's just how it was. If I would have chosen, I would have chose to be rich, snotty, with all the advantages that so many of my so-called "bretheren" had. I was enraged and became even more of an outcast coming to DC, as I felt ostracized from the one community I was sure I was going to find acceptance in.

I met a small group of kids from modest backgrounds, and to tell you the truth, they were some of the nicest kids I could meet. They didn't judge me for my beliefs. They didn't care where I was from or what I thought about. They never pressed their ideals (as crazy as some of them were) on me. They let me know that it was alright to live my life by whatever means I wanted to: as long as it was working to some sort of theraputic means. They knew shit was fucked up and that people do things to cope. They just hoped kids would have the better sense to stay strong and have the mental will power to prove it. I was encouraged by this and attempted to have this mental tenacity that without, I would probably be dead at this point.

Unfortunately though these kids were few and far between. Many of them disappeared, or became greatly reduced in numbers as they had to take jobs to support themselves or their families. The scene began to need more and more kids from suburbia that had the money, support, and education to fund some of the projects. After a while, it became a sea of familiar faces, shouting about some new cause, that I legitamately just did not give two shits about. In my life, things were always so fucked up I only had time to worry about two things: my loved ones and myself. I couldn't get wrapped up in this nonsense of mother earth because I for one wished the world would end. The more I tried to convey this point, the more the kids just kind of stopped wanting to talk to me.

I always thank those who never judged me or who engaged me and never took things personally. I say things in jest many times, and it can come off as insenstive or just plain ignorant. But the truth of the matter is, I am an educated person who was always willing to talk to you, if you just asked me a legitamate question and didn't write me off. A lot of the poor kids began to leech off of the privalaged kids, and while I can't blame them for that, getting jeers and looks because of your own self-conciousness was never a ticket to my respect. I can think of a couple of people I love and wanted to respect off the top of my head, but I never could because of their fear of being rejected, or their arrogant belief that their way was the only way.

Sometimes things don't work that way. Sometimes, things fail. I'm not saying people shouldn't try and change things, I'm just saying I don't have the time, money, energy, support, to put my blood sweat and tears into something that isn't going to have a violent reaction. If you fuck with me, my family, or the ones I love, there will be a violent reaction. And as the case with many of these superfluous causes, I see no point in risking my limited resources for something that is seen more as a social engagement. It will not "change over time". It will change when someone blows something up. And I guess, god forbid someone I love be there, because then that would lead to more blowing up.

But it's this type of reaction that garners negative attention from people I worked so hard to impress upon my arrival in DC. When I was 16, I played a show in East Los Angeles wth a couple of my friends' bands. It was a record relese party so it was a huge show. After my band's set, I walked out to the curb, water bottle in hand, and sat down to catch my breath. My friend came barreling up behind me and flung a 40 bottle at a cop car. It shattered on impact and my friend ran away leaving me there with the cops. The cops beat the crap out of me and threw me in the cop car only to find out after a breathalyzer test that I had not had a lick to drink that night. They apologized half-assedly and released me. My friend came up to me and thanked me for that. He pat me on the back and laughed about it. He handed me a beer, and although I wanted to beat the shit out of him, I laughed right along, put the beer down, grabbed my shit, and hightailed it out of there as I was certain the cops were going to come back and beat the crap out of everyone. They came back and they did unleash hell. I was no where to be seen.

That night punk rock failed me. It was the first in a series of events that would let me know that this ultimate ideal of DOING IT YOURSELF and RAILING AGAINST THE MAN IN UNITY is utterly pointless. It was my first and only encounter with police but it was enough to let me know that there was a way things worked in this world. And as long as you were fightin against those in power, you were destined to be fucked. No pig beating on PBS was ever going to change that. I was there for the LA RIOTS. I remember seeing the flames from our home in Echo Park. I remember my father being terrified that my mom worked downtown. I remember everyone was so pissed off and that while things got fucked up, things ultimately stayed the same. Because when it comes right down to it. You have yourself, your girl, and your family. When it came to the kids: they could go to hell. The kids all suck.

Once again, I don't say this to be poetic or that I know more. I don't know shit and I don't want to know shit. Because the more I find out, the more I wish I just didn't know. Like I said before, I don't believe in much, and I thank all of you who realized this and respected my positions. Most of the time I respected yours. But to all of those who judged me and thought they were better than me, I hope you sleep well in either your republican-induced boxes or your democratic-party funded mansions one day. Because when that day comes where someone fucks with me or my family, you will see terror and hatred on levels unprecedented. I hope that never happens. And it probably never will. All I know is that while I don't have much, I am willing to fight for the few things I DO have and that pertain to me keeping it. Any REAL person whom people pretend to represent will tell you the same. Given the choice between poverty or wealth, I'll take wealth any day and so would they. That's the difference between you and me.

Anyways, here is a song that represents how I feel about "the kids". It's by some shitty punk band I always liked called The Problematics. They were kind of a punk band parody which is why I loved them. They hated punk. They hated themselves. And they hated you. No veils. No fakeness. Just pure unadulterated resentment for everyone. That rules.




Note: if anyone really does want to talk to me about shit and not just scream AT ME, I would love to have some chats. I am pretty friendly contrary to this whiny rant.

- Chris Rotten