{march 6, 2000}
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March 6, 2000: I WAS A TEENAGE PINKO!
Maybe it's no big surprise, but let me indulge in pesky quasi psychology for a wee bit, now... But one does not grow up without retaining at least a modicum of what one learned as a kid. When I was maybe 13 years old, in 1980, I was into some kinda prep look, donning the fashion threads of the conservative youth of the day. Still, I went to the movies showed by the communist youth just a year before that. And I think that my heart was still to the left, somehow. All I saw in my childhood, all I read, somehow taught me that one should help people in need, regardless of colour or creed. I looked like a fucking preppie, but I wrote "poems" about Umkonto We Sizwe. So there I was: too late to be a punk, to wimpy to define my own style. By the time I was 15 I had started wearing black suits & pointy shoes, scorning visible brand names. I was working at a non-profit music club. I was reading existentialists and beats. I was Littletoned a bit, called commie by the conservatives and conservative by the machine shop posse. I went to meetings with BSB (Keep Sweden Mixed, an organization with close ties to Ne Touché A Mon Pôte from France) and was asked to calm down by a black south african. I was probably the most self-righteous dweeb you ever saw. I scorned people who told "racist" jokes, I went head to head with older people who romanticized native americans. For some reason, it was always the race issue that got my motor really up and running. And now? Am I still a pinko? An insufferable little PC whelp? No. But I still have a basic ethos that makes me anti-capitalist. pro-environmentalist, anti-racist. But I'd like to think that I'm much more tolerant these days. You know, I'm not sure if it's always a good thing being too literal in the race issue. People don't and won't change. What the fuck do I care if the guy I'm talking to at a party sucks cocks? Do I mind? No. Do I care? Well, maybe I'm just a little curious. Same thing with "race" (although I prefer the word "colour"). You may think - you, blacks, whites, yellows, reds, browns - that it matters. I don't fucking care. And I don't mind. Let me get somewhat personal about the ethno concept. When I was 14 or 15 I shoplifted my first skin mag. It was an all-black vanilla mag. The second I shoplifted was an all-asian one. Does that make me an exoticist? Hell no, not in my book... -------- |
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