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In a college town, with olive green all around, professors and skate punks rock SG Paul's wall of sound. There's an anarchist bookstore that has more than you'd look for.
A core of local folks wait for a late lift. There's often a great drift to the shop for the Wednesday night five-to-eight shift. The clerk at work is the prettiest gal in town. She cries during the video for "Allentown." She's a precocious socialist and willing to pal around. She's twice as cool as the kids at her high school. Every Wednesday after French Club she rides to work with a stuffed mastodon in the basket on her bicycle.
Voice Talent, a rapper, said, "If Noam Chomsky was from the Bronx he'd have been assassinated promptly."
The clerk said, "He was from the Bronx"
He said, "You know what I mean... ignoramuses"
"Oh boyee, what a pain this is," said the only paid employee, the manager. "I came for culture not accounting," and a girl put a flyer up above the water fountain. She carried clandestine two dollar mescaline in her blue collar mess tin plastered with stickers that said, "Food Not Bombs," "Sex Not Proms," and "Critical Mass."
That bastard, Voice Talent, snickered. He thought, "Nice graphics but that's just half-assed agitprop to piss off a traffic cop. Aww shucks. Can it be I'm too lazy for potlucks? If not my friends who am I willing to cook for," and they're chilling at the Anarchist Bookstore.
Will Barnes and Noble harm the global?
Will Amazon.com be around when gramma's gone, mom?
Voice Talent, the rapper, had a rapport with a stripper whore who he'd vote for long before he'd vote for Tipper Gore. He equipped the store with a credit card machine and put zines in their places. He said, "Take Back the Streets is more like Take Back Four Parking Spaces at the most," and left to host the Sunday Showcases. He was all dressed in tinsel, yo, but he couldn't convince his friends to go. They were like, "Voice Talent, you put on a minstrel show." He said, "Someone's psychotic. Someone took too much semiotics." "Furthermore," he thought, "Someone can tzuck my Tzadik," but VT was the opposite of TV.
He'd never accuse someone of being PC because it's so frigging dumb to say. The term arose on the Columbus Day Quincentennary when the republic was honest about the conquest and wouldn't party as previously promised. If someone uses a nonoffensive vocabulary that person is considerate, not PC. If someone has a heavy-handed agenda that person is narrow-minded, not PC. Unless you mean Providence College, PC is as meaningless as the president's apology for slavery. Maybe PE should be on the radio, not just in the African-American Norton Anthology. |
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