All your cares are dead,
like the leaves that have fallen
upon your dampened head.
When the gates are open do you go out riding?
When the gates are closed do you continue hiding?
Who’s to say the day is dark at six?
When the lights are out before dinner, we still play like kids.
1. somebody in charge: somebody who is in charge of others, especially in a work environment
2. somebody dominant: the dominant partner in a relationship or the dominant member of a group, who tends to make decisions and give instructions
3. powerful politician: a politician who exerts a controlling influence, e.g. by applying pressure on others to vote in a particular way
Inferred in these definitions is the fact that one central authority figure is in charge and telling others what to do. In the political realm we would call this a dictatorship, so if as Americans we reject the dictatorship for our central form of government, then why should we accept it as the system which rules our careers and professional lives?
We have all had horrible bosses. It always seems that the worst people somehow slip into these positions of authority. The assumption that most of us believe, because of the rhetoric we hear all our lives, is that “The Boss” is in charge because they have qualifications that are better than the underlings and these qualifications give them the boost that they need to climb the corporate ladder a little bit higher than the rest of us. As most of us already know by now this just simply is not true.
I have worked since I was ten years old. I had a paper route, shoveled snow, raked leaves, mowed grass, and even helped people move to earn a buck. Most people were appreciative to have such a youngster willing to do these jobs and I was treated with the utmost dignity and respect by my bosses in those early years. When it came time to take on work as a teenager, when the law said I could legally work for a corporation, I learned that not all people in charge were nice.
I wasn’t a responsible teenager in any way, shape or form. So when I entered the adult work force, working in restaurants and retail establishments, I thought that me getting pissed off at my boss and quitting was due to my immaturity and utter lack of responsibility. In part it was, but the trend of hating the authority figures who controlled my work life continued.
My bosses came in all shapes and sizes, with all different types of personality disorders and varying degrees of sociopathy. It has been said that “power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” , but I am willing to take it a bit further and say the desire for power tends to corrupt as well. The system of corporate rule even at the most basic level, say a big box store like Walmart for example, allows for this to happen. Putting the welfare of so many people’s lives in the hands of one person opens the door for corruption, and this has been the case for almost every job that I have ever held. Allow me to give a few real world examples. Names of people, places, etcetera have been withheld to protect the innocent.
Boss #1 – The Bully
A low person on the totem pole at a big box store is really struggling. They are unhappy with the position they have held since starting with company three years prior. They have been unable to transfer to another position in that store and have been given many conflicting reasons why they cannot move to another position by all members of management. The work is grueling and the conditions are harsh. The pay is low. The treatment of workers in that position by all other people in different positions is inhumane and embarrassing. The average age for a worker in that position is eighteen but our worker is in their thirties. Being a member of this untouchable caste makes the worker always on thin ice with the management. Due to the harsh economic conditions of the country the worker is unable to find other work and has constant anxiety about this.
One day the worker goes home for lunch because they forgot their food and cannot afford to eat at a restaurant. Halfway home disaster occurs. The transmission in the car that they are driving goes out and they can only cruise home at a brisk pace of twenty-five miles per hour because the problem with the transmission will not allow them to move to a higher gear and go any faster. When they finally get to their home the vehicle completely craps out on them and they have no way of returning to work that day. The dreaded inevitable call must be made to a member of management.
The manager on duty that day is a late thirties early forties something man. Each day he comes to work he is dressed impeccably. Not one hair on his head with his forty dollar haircut is out of place. He is relaxed and comfortable at work, always cracking jokes about the other employees and how dim witted they all are. He enjoys embarrassing all the people under him and giving them verbal lashing as he see fits, usually when a romantic affair in his personal life goes foul. Several times he has made derogatory comments on the personal appearance and clothing of workers under him, most of who make just over minimum wage and cannot afford to dress like him. The size of his wallet is only matched by his ego, and the lengthy commentaries he has regarding sporting events and workout routines.
The call goes through from the front desk and the manager picks up. The worker obviously very distraught explains the situation to this manager. Relaxed and carefree as always, the manager acknowledges the workers situation, but does so in such a way the acknowledgement comes off as snide and leads the worker to believe that the manager probably doesn’t believe the story.
The worker has to junk the car that very same day and keeps the receipt to show the boss the next day to ensure that they stay employed and the story of the car hiccup is validated. Luckily the worker is allowed to borrow a vehicle from someone and makes it to work on time the next morning. The worker walks right up to the boss that morning to show him the receipt and asks with a smile in a hushed and polite tone “You didn’t think I was lying to you yesterday did you?” handing him the receipt.
The boss turns around perplexed and disgusted and begins yelling as loud as he possibly can.
“If I fucking thought you were lying to me I would fucking tell you. Got it?”
The worker is blinded with rage. The immediate reaction of the worker is to begin yelling. The worker wants to grab the boss by the collar and punch the boss repeatedly until unconscious but a sickening feeling overwhelms this worker. The worker becomes paralyzed and begins to shake. Then the worker begins to blame themselves and follows the boss to apologize and grovel, saying anything to make sure their job is still secure. It is, but the damage is done. The embarrassment, shame, and foul treatment have become too much. The worker becomes least productive and begins committing small acts of sabotage and pranks whenever the opportunity arises. The job becomes a target for revenge rather than a place of employment. The worker becomes an employee who dreads coming to work but delights in the idea of putting a monkey wrench in the works of the employer.
ANALYSIS- The manager we referred to in this story is typical of most management. He started out as a lowly employee like the worker in this story and worked his way to the top through the thought manipulation of other people. He hasn’t worked any harder than any other employee to get to where he is, in fact he has worked less than others, he just happens to have a silver tongue. As with most individuals who make it to the management level, either assistant or full manager, he has a degree of sociopathy. On the surface the masks he wears and the lines he feeds to his peers and higher ups is enough. He is on the fast track to becoming a big boss, but if we look just below the surface, the ruse becomes apparent and the lack of depth is exposed. We must remember that a boss is not a leader, they are just a boss, and it is the bosses who pick the bosses not the workers.
Boss#2- The Underboss
An employee has been working with a company for a little over a year. The worker has done well and worked their way from a temporary position to a full time permanent position. This feat is near impossible seeing as the head manager is a hardnosed slave driver who only wants workers who are able to give one-hundred percent all of the time in spite of the impossible demands they are given.
Recently the worker has seen many of the seasonal workers let go because they haven’t met the demands sent down from management. One choice of seasonal worker that management has chosen to keep is a surprise to the worker. This seasonal worker has not worked much harder than the people who were let go. In fact, many of the other full time employees and lower level managers have complained that the seasonal worker is lazy and talks incessantly. The seasonal worker is put into a permanent position in the same department as the worker where the worker soon finds out how it is that the former seasonal worker has managed to stick around and soon become The Underboss.
The worker finds that their new peer does talk incessantly usually to fish personal information or opinions regarding anything work related. The worker also notices that the new peer is not only lazy but careless as well, often disregarding safety precautions unless a member of management is around. The incessant talking bit does not end however when the management is present. At that point it gets worse. The new peer becomes the worst form of sycophantic bootlicker. They chomp at the bit to have an audience with any member of management for any length of time. The peer soon ends up spending more time following around the management rather than doing actual work.
This ridiculous brown nosing does not go unnoticed by any of the members of the department with the exception of the direct supervisor (The Boss) who is on the receiving end of the bootlicking. Soon the other members of the department begin to gang up on the new peer and suggest that they do some actual work instead of sucking up to the bosses. Not long after this the bosses begin to come down very hard on these workers. The bosses bring up and throw in the faces of the workers personal opinions of the establishment that they told the new peer in confidence. Any mistake or deviation from protocol committed by any worker is immediately brought to the attention of the bosses by the new peer. When the same is done by workers against the new peer, the bosses claim it is petty retribution and nothing comes of it. Soon the only voice that is being heard by management is the voice of the new peer who has suddenly become The Underboss.
The Underboss holds no actual position of authority but begins passing out work lists and projects to the other workers and so called peers. The Underboss checks on the progress of these projects and reports back to the boss because he has become his lackey. Any involvement in any kind of actual labor is minimal for the underboss. When The Underboss does take part in work they only work when the boss is looking. The Underboss becomes fanatical in their devotion to the boss and has all the workers walking on egg shells, finding themselves an inch away from losing their jobs. The workers become quite paranoid. Suggestions are made about giving The Underboss a “blanket party” of sorts, but the economy is so bad that none of them can risk termination or jail time. They must deal with it until either The Underboss is moved from the department or they are. In a few short months the workers are both relieved and insulted when they find out that The Underboss has been promoted to Boss of another department and will no longer be directly working with them. Someone with less education, less experience, and less seniority than all the other workers has surpassed all the workers and been given a position of privilege and authority.
ANALYSIS- The Underboss is a true sociopath adopting whatever mask suits their purposes. They have but one goal, to gain as much power, prestige, and money as possible, by any means necessary. The Underboss has no soul. When confronted by others about their atrocious behavior The Underboss will feign guilt and sorrow, but in the end will only hold resentment and hatred for the accuser, often doing whatever they can to get them out of their way, even if it means getting their accuser get fired under false pretenses. Once The Underboss knows that someone is on to their ruse, it is only a matter of time before they set forth a plan of action to remove the menace. Nobody is safe from the relentless, ruthless attacks of The Underboss.
Boss#3- The Great Dictator
The Great Dictator is the boss of all bosses. They have turned management into a science with a bit of evil sorcery mixed in. The Great Dictator is usually a former Underboss who has attained their position through a wicked shrewdness on par with Hitler and Stalin. They have been systemized by the establishment and the robotic functions of their own sociopathy.
Once in power The Great Dictator sets a system in place to have complete control and wage total war against the people who work for them. The Great Dictator uses all tools at their disposal to ensure that they cannot be deposed for any reason by anyone so they can maintain their power, prestige, and income. The first step in this process is for The Great Dictator is to create a militarized police force.
The Great Dictator takes a good look at the midlevel management directly under them to see if they are up to snuff. They weigh and measure the personalities of the midlevel management to see who will be completely loyal and carry out orders without question. Those who do not fit into this uniform are either transferred out, rode so hard they leave, or are systematically removed through a campaign of falsehoods and manipulation. Once the opposition is removed, The Great Dictator puts in place the enforcers to carry out all orders without question in a malevolent fashion.
As they say, shit rolls down hill, and the pressure begins to fall on the lower level management. The pressure that is put on lower level management is measured, just enough to keep them one step away from breaking. A propaganda campaign is put in place to constantly remind all employees, especially the lower level management, of the rules, expectations, and values of the company, and that any deviation from them could be considered insubordination and make an employee subject to termination.
In an effort to ensure their survival under The Great Dictator, the lower level management delivers a swift crushing blow to all drone workers who do not fall in line with the new program. The building in which everyone works becomes a pressure cooker. An invisible psychic weight on the shoulders of employees makes them actually physically slouch. The imaginary whip at their backs is enough to prod them forward without regard to their morale, and personal well being. As long as orders are carried out to the satisfaction of The Great Dictator employees are left alone. If this is not accomplished, The Great Dictator ensures that pressure is placed upon the offending employee from all directions to reprimand them.
To make matters worse, The Great Dictator is an unapologetic micromanager. Instead of delegating responsibilities to the management beneath them, The Great Dictator is the overseer of every aspect of corporate life of all employees. Any detail that is not pleasing to The Great Dictator is berated and is immediately ordered to be changed to reflect the wishes of The Great Dictator. Compounding the frustration is the fact that Enforcers are still trying to exercise their own power by delegating responsibilities and projects to lower level management and drone workers, dictating details as they expect they should be. The details of these projects are often changed on the fly by The Great Dictator because they are not carried out to their satisfaction, causing projects to be done, redone, and redone again. This wastes valuable company time and money, and causes the employees to become a corporate Sisyphus.
This does not bother The Great Dictator in the slightest. To Them employees are simply cattle, lead to the slaughter when their usefulness has ended. The Great Dictators detach themselves from feelings and depersonalize all transactions. The personal problems of employees must be resolved through the rigid rules regarding their situation and strict translation of those rules by The Great Dictator. No quarter is given because no compassion or understanding is to be found. A worker who needs time off to take care of their terminally ill parent is reprimanded for taking one day off to do so. The worker believes this is unfair and does not fall in line with the values of the company and reports this to the level of management above The Great Dictator. The Great Dictator is notified that someone has reported the transgression. Although The Great Dictator does not know who it was, they suspect the employee who came to them with the problem in the first place and begin to watch over them like a hawk. Every simple deviation from corporate policy either real or imagined is dealt with in S.S. fashion. The employee is made an example of to keep others in fear, and fear becomes the tool to rule.
ANALYSIS- There is no level to which The Great Dictator will not stoop to maintain their needs. They are ruled by a severe narcissism, greed, or sociopathy. They have no regard for others, only themselves. They are ruthless, shrewd, and cruel in all their dealings. As with The Underboss, there is no reasoning with them. You are but a means to an end.
We must ask ourselves, how is it that such vile people get in positions of power and authority? The answer is simple. The system set in place to rule us professionally is unfair and unjust reaching to the highest levels of the economy. All efforts to work within current economic structures to maintain justice for workers have failed. We continue to promote the effortless rise of a criminal element into the corporate ruling class. Our efforts must not be to adapt to this system to change from within, but to abolish it completely, otherwise we will remain slaves to the slave masters.
in a story where I am not the narrator.
Just an actor in a commercial,
I am compelled to be compelled.
Each filthy action is a toy in the hands of ghosts.
The roads all intersect in this hive of shadows,
a divine spark removed with each turn,
that leads to an American dream.
Selling to Minors
It’s quite easy nowadays,
selling to minors.
Here comes the parade.
Thrift store crash of psychopathic characters.
Infinite crazy explosions,
rolling out on neurotic love waves.
It’s the last hurrah,
filled with jeers, and cheers, then tears.
Cannons fire filling the air with Pop Rocks
and cotton candy confetti.
The kids are satiated.
Some of the kids in their skinny jeans,
had to make room in their drawers when they shit themselves.
It all becomes a cheap action film,
getting cheesier with every little big death.
Where is Charles Bronson when you need him?
Burt Lancaster, Kirk Douglas?
The jugglers continue juggling,
and the clowns still honk their noses.
I still gnash my teeth.
I looked in the mirror this morning and saw my grandfather’s eyes staring back at me.
There is a growing trend in America and around the world. The trend is transparently camouflaged, passed of f as the new cool and a hoed road for all to follow entrenched with land mines and punji sticks. It is not new. It has always been there. It is crass consumerism, zealous marketing, and obscure references to unobtainable genius of originalists. The trend is the old sin of hipsterism.
That’s right, cool is back and more exclusive than ever. I first noticed a small guerilla movement to take hold in the mid nineties neat little boys and girls, heroin chic, in clean pressed thrift store clothes slurping lattes and feigning intelligent chatter about music and literature. They smoked expensive cigarettes and drove covertly cool foreign vehicles. It was just a bunch of rich nerds slumming it.
On the other side of the aisle were my so called friends. We were beastly and reckless raw and raunchy. Nothing was planned, or organized to delight the mob. Old stained clothes that we wore out, most of them borrowed or stolen were a necessity more than a fashion statement. We paid twelve bucks for new jeans and in six months they looked like one hundred fifty dollar hipster jeans that kids pay for today. We were fat, pimply, smelly, too tall, too short, overworked and underpaid. Getting by was exhausting, but drugs, danger, sex, rock, and the fear and anger of always being poor shoved us forward and a battle began to be waged. It was nihilism versus runway symbolism. Walking adverts were in the palace of wisdom while the barbarians were at the gates.
Culture is what it is. While the economies of the world go into the shitter the young want to live more decadently. Hell, I want to be rich. Who doesn’t? But, it is the rich who cash in on the desires of others to be rich. Advertisements glow with beauties and beaus living dream lives. You can look at any of the modern ads, even the modest ones, and know that the guy in the pink sweater and tight chinos is going to get a killer blow job from his house frau after he takes her and the kids for a drive in his Mercedes on that winding road overlooking the beach, and this is where the battle over self and self image took hold amongst my friends… love and pussy, or the illusion of such things.
Every guy I knew began to want the same thing … the magic pussy, and all the girls I knew wanted to have the cool stud that was just out of reach. We settled for what was available. When sex was new to us we were fucking out of morbid curiosity and boredom. I remember many a summer night lurking in the dark outside a house, waiting for a window to open to sneak into a pitch black room and fumble sweaty on a pallet of blankets on the floor so as not to wake mom and dad with the creaking noises of an old cheap bed. It was pure, magic, and farcical all at the same time. Suddenly and unexpectedly though, the tribes begin to gather and coalesce and there is talk. The alpha dogs assume their roles as chieftains and set the stage for the rest of us. The people begin to part like the red sea and we begin to gnaw at the scraps that are thrown to us by tyrant hipsters.
Morality becomes synonymous with sin. Your decree of virtuousness becomes a list of deadly sins to the cool. At this time in my life I should have had the words” fuck you” tattooed on my forehead. These great con artists and charlatans imbued with gifts of sociopathy and vulturism zombified entire groups of young men and women and sent them on a quest for the holy grail, and after many years of death, desiccation, and destitution, the youth returned in shambles, skeletons and shadows of their former selves, jaded by the search for a ghost, while their piggish nobles and royalty had set the stage for future cool without them, lost and forgotten.
As you quiver from want, you see the greatness achieved with the greatest of ease from those blessed advantageously, and you wonder.. “Where is my size 32 waist with my fancy jeans hanging from them, and my jocular physique? Where are my aviator shades, slick shoes, and retro print button up seducing super models to take a second look?” They are gone my friend, gone with Beta Max, and that ice cream cone you shared with your first girlfriend, So go home tonight, stare at your beer gut, and cry while listening to Take Five. Tomorrow is another day. Wake up! Know thyself.
Shawn Kristopher Blevins
I am of German decent.
Hitler, she loved me,
“Germans are very punctual.”
I was always late, and I liked that nigger rock and roll.
“You can’t do that you’ll get fired.”
And I did, so I could go to those nigger rock and roll shows and dance.
“Gott Im Himmel.”
So Ole Hitler sent me packing one day…
Because she couldn’t stand the fact that I wasn’t a good little Nazi.
They tried to fix me up right growing up,
with dad a full fledged member of the KKK
and mom with her copy of every good Germans good book,
oh my struggle,
and it was great to hear war stories, but now I’ve got war stories of my own.
How much for a cup of coffee?
Too much if you really have to ask.
Hello America. I am your Charlie Chaplin parasite.
You have designated me your cheap dime store hood,
the worst villain of any trashy teen age novel, like Dennis Hopper in rebel without a cause.
I run on coffee and lust, and even the lust is starting to run dry.
It costs too much like good coffee.
I hear music coming from radios sometimes and forget where I am.
It takes me back to long dusty roads where I bled sweat,
Wondering what all those girls back home were doing and thinking.
I’m a man out of time.
I will die by the pen, it is,
mightier than the barrel -chested dishwasher in the back of this diner.
I should be thrown out with his trash, for I cannot do anything,
My words my never tempt a man to face the guns,(thank god),
Or the fire from the bridges he has burned, so be it.
It is written.
Gallipoli in ink.
When my soul floats about the corpses of those gone,
Wish masks cracked revealing flawless crystal skulls…
So bright, so brilliant, so… expected.
Medusa is here and the art is over.
What is wealth if it is not to be squandered?
Why must these words come?
I am comatose from the same old scene…
America the beautiful.
By Shawn Blevins
- Wealthy bankers get wealthier as home foreclosures go up due more people mortgaging their
homes for gas money.
- Gen X becomes the dominant generation as Obamacare death panels kill more than half of
- Lindsay Lohan gets clean and the Obamacare deficit comes out of the red.
- Mel Gibson becomes the front running presidential candidate for the Republican Party in 2012.
- Mel Gibson becomes the front running presidential candidate for the Democratic Party in 2012.
- President Obama announces that Tiger Woods will be his new personal assistant due to his
ability to multitask.
- In a protest against the United States immigration policy Cheech Marin is arrested for leading a
mass migration of Mexicans in a charge across the California border.
- Marijuana reform laws sweep across the United States. Frito Lay becomes the nation’s leading
- It is revealed that John McCain is zombie and has actually been dead for about ten years.
- Gonzo Times is shut down due to provoking critical thinking in the realm of politics.
A few words on getting politically active from Henry Rollins
By Shawn Blevins
You are mad as hell and you are not going to take it anymore. The clowns in congress have done something so heinous that you have decided to put down the remote, get out of your recliner and take action. But wait, you have never done anything more political than going into the voting booth. So how do you get started? We here at Gonzo Times went to one of the preeminent authorities on do it yourself politics and punk rock, Henry Rollins, to get some sage wisdom.
GT: When and how did you first become politically active?
HR: I come from Washington DC. My mother was very left, my father very right. I would spend time with both. One turned me onto Bob Dylan, the other told me that “Marvin Foodstamp” was the problem in America. I went my mother’s way.
GT: What was your first experience with the do it yourself approach to punk as well as politics?
HR: I started going to shows and became part of the DC music scene. Our scene was very small but very political. I didn’t know much about the workings of that machine but started learning more when Reagan came in. The older I got, the more I saw, the more I understood, the more that kind of thing meant to me.
GT: What advantages/disadvantages are there to protesting individually rather than in a group?
HR: There is sometimes a safety in numbers but groups have a life of their own and I tend to stay away from that. Mobilized crowds are pretty intense and I can’t get in them.
GT: What advice would you give to an individual who wishes to protest something, as an individual rather than part of a group, who has had little or no experience in the political arena?
HR: Learn. If you want to have an opinion, have an informed one. Getting informed takes time and you have to be ready to really think things through. The protest part is easy. Before I protest anything, I always know what is wrong, what caused it and always am prepared to offer a solution.
There you have it folks. Get informed, get involved, and be responsible.
SEXY COOL ACCEPTANCE FUN PARTY FEEL GOOD ….BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY BUY!
Now take those words and transfer them into images. That is what we deal with as consumers. Ads are made to make us feel in order to buy products, espescially the clothing we wear. Just take a look at any clothing ad. Women and men are made to look provacative, sexy, and appealing. The folks in these ads are always laughing, having a good time, or appear to be caught up in some whirlwind romance. Believe it or not these images take hold in our psyche and influence us to buy buy buy!
When I was in the fifth grade I had a pair of shoes that I loved dearly. They were white canvas ked type shoes with little multicolored confetti like shapes all over them. I begged my mother to purchase the rediculously cheap shoes. She fought with me over buying the shoes. She wanted me to have shoes that were a bit sturdier, and ones that the kids might not make fun off. I wanted them because I knew we were poor and didn’t have the money for the “cool” shoes, and those shoes were different. I was different, and they had to be mine.
I tried them on and they were just right. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with coolness, but not the type of coolness that jocks with Starter brand sports jackets and Nike shoes felt. I felt something different. I felt like James Dean, Lee Marvin, or Charles Bronson, universal loner cool. It’s amazing what a pair of shoes can do to you, espescially ones that cost less than ten dollars, much better than the one hundred dollar Nikes my father bought me that fell apart in two weeks. I felt like I was pissing in the face of those guys who paraded around in their pressed clothes and played sports really well. I felt empowered.
I wore them to school everyday. Nobody noticed my shoes except me. That is until one day our class was forced to stand in the hall and be quiet for a fire drill. The class had nothing better to do but stand in the hall and stare at the floor where they could see my shoes, and that is when it began.
“Huh?” I said.
“Nice buddies.” The jock said pointing to my shoes.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but he kept snickering with his click and looking back at me. I didn’t get the joke, but I could feel my face turning red as my palms sweat and body squirmed. Did I happen to step in a big pile of dog shit and didn’t notice? A few minutes later it was pointed out to me rather bluntly by a friend that my shoes were generic and that is why I was being made fun of. So I did what any little boy with and ounce of respect could do and I challenged the jockular prick to a fight on the playground. He never showed up, but I learned a couple of lessons.
First lesson was that I could use fashion/anti-fashion as a vehicle to engage people in important arenas of thought. What you wear says something about you to other people whether you intend it to or not. Plain and simple, people are judgemental and they always will be. This includes me. I refered to the boy who attacked me for wearing generic shoes as a jock. Need any more proof?
Lesson two was that commercialism and corporatism brainwash people into believing all kinds of ludacris ideas. “If you don’t wear these kind of shoes you are not cool and will not be accepted by society.” Fashion has been fashionable since fashion began, and coming through the ages with that was the peer pressure of conformity and opinions of others. We will never avoid these things, but we can react to them.
Anti-fashion applies to a number contexts where “fashion” is used to perpetuate a certain idea or goal. Nudists are one such example. Other expamples of anti-fashion action throughout history include danndy, hippy, punk, beatnik, grunge, feminist, and minimalist looks. Any look opposed to established fahionable thought at a certain time could be considered anti-fashion. The problem comes when the big wigs in corporate america catch on to a certain trend and turn it into fashion.
When I was twelve I was a full fledged punk rocker. I remember the disdain and evil looks I got from the conformist children in my school. The next year something happened. Nirvana made a big splash with Nevermind and suddenly everyone from the nerdiest outcasts to the popular preppies were wearing Doc Marten boots and flannel shirts. WHAT THE FUCK! I couldn’t afford a hundred dollar pair of green docs and flannels were selling in department stores for fifty bucks. Acid wash jeans were out and designer poor persons jeans were in selling for more than any teen could afford at the time. I remember looking at these bastards and thinking, just a little while ago you were listening to Vanilla Ice in your Mc Hammer pants making fun of my poverty attire. Such is trend, such is fashion. For the most part from then on I have tried to avoid shopping at big name stores for various reasons.
If you are in the same boat I am (being poor) then you have probably found the value of shopping at thrift stores. Since corporate america throws more shit as us to buy then we can consume to up their profit margins, the number of thrift stores out there seems to have grown trememndously. They are a great place to find little treasures and everday wardrobe essentials for far less in price than big box and department stores. A great thing about many of the thrift stores that are out there is that they belong to a church or other not for profit organization and proceeds from the sales go to help others in need. Your purchases help make a difference.
Make a Statement
You are you and nobody else, so why not show everyone else who you are. Wear what makes you feel comfortable. Don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. If you want to wear a shirt that says you club gay baby seals for jesus than go ahead. Of course, don’t expect to not have some sort of reaction from someone out there. You may be chased out of town by an angry mob brandishing pitch forks and torches.
Do it yourself. If you like the poor persons worn in distressed look when it comes to jeans, why not distress your own jeans rather paying Abercrombie and Fitch to do it for you. There is plenty of information out there on the web and at your local libraries with how to information available to you in regards to clothing design. Also available to you are a plethora of craft, fabric, and art supply stores to get you started. Go out, get educated , and get started.
No matter what your reservations are about personal appearance and style, be who you are. If you want to buy that fifty dollar pair of jeans, expensive designer blouse, or uber costly shoes, go for it. Just think before you purchase. Consider the source of your urge to buy your clothing. Is it because of peer pressure from the outside world, or is because you are amplifying you to the world? Make an impact on the world, don’t let the world make an impact on you.
Think for yourself!
P.S. Here is a little website I found interesting when doing research for this article. http://www.antifashionleague.com/
The pitfalls of at- will employment and how to protect yourself:
I have worked since I was ten years old. I mowed grass, raked leaves, and shoveled snow. I did chores for my mother. I had a paper route. I helped older people I knew move. I worked for “rent a kid”. No it wasn’t a child sex slave operation. It was an agency run by a nonprofit organization to assist the elderly with tasks they were no longer able to do.
I liked working. I made money, felt a sense of accomplishment, and generally the people I worked for were grateful. We all have to work. We all have to make money to have three hots and a cot, but the real nature of the world of work is so cut throat that one can enter the workforce and succeed without becoming a sycophant or crook. Many people end up doing both, which is a sad reality of the world.
BY SHAWN KRISTOPHER BLEVINS
I don’t believe in politics just surreal non events…
Shocking isn’t it really when you think I should just vent.
But the party in the first part
Is the party in the second part.
Just another old fart…
Cashing in on kingdom come
I saw a lady trampled by police…
Tags: Protest Art