Punk bloggin': hiatus

Hey, you know what the definition of a sellout is?

A punk who bathes.

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I think I'm done writing stuff about punk for a while. There's no easy answer. It is what it is to any number of very different people. There are teenagers who listen to Avril and wear skinny jeans and spiked bracelets who call themselves punks, and there are brilliant, dedicated artists in their forties with spouses and kids and even PhDs, who dress neatly and are generally in a natural shape and color who define punk. There are punks who would sooner slit their own throats than wear a shirt that isn't secondhand, and punks who'll sign to a major record label and endure the shitstorm of scorn that that entails because they think it's just that important to get their message to a wider audience... or because they love money. There are destructive punks, apathetic punks, poser punks, good punks, bad punks, sellout punks, and whatever other kinds you'll find down in the crowds at your local dive venue.

So let it be what it is. It's not one particular lifestyle, or one attitude, or one key philosophy, I don't think. About the only thing the far reaches of punk have in common is some sort of dissatisfaction, but that in itself isn't very satisfying, so let it be. Keep on resisting whatever you're resisting. And don't confuse growing up with giving up.


More to come shortly. On different topics. I may revisit this one eventually, but I think I've done all I can with my current limited store of experience.