Friday, April 3, 2009

(*) There is a strange man outside my house, but I'd rather tell you a story (blog)

Here's a little vintage action for ya...

Last August, (and I'm about to throw the A-word around a lot, due to our "not guilty" plea) an "alleged" friend and I were "allegedly" caught "allegedly" spray-"alleged"-painting an "alleged" train.  Enough.  The point is, I was 4 months into being a legal adult, I had a short temper, and an underwear drawer-ful of spray paint (from an art project, I swear, Your Honor!).  Here's the blog post from way back when, which will explain why I sold my soul to work at a video store.  Which in turn, explains how I've been able to slowly accumulate the entire horror section from my local video store in my living room.

"I feel like I've said this before, but I know, I know.  You don't have to tell me,

"I feel like the negligent alcoholic mother who keeps her kids in the basement and keeps promising to let them out when she's sober, but then drops some acid and thinks it's Cinco De Mayo for, like, three weeks.  As is the case with updates on this issue.

"Pressure to take on more hours with my day job has been building, since my final court date is tomorrow.  As horrible and abusive the court system has been to me over the months, I don't hesitate to say that I'm amused (to say the least).  What feels like centuries ago, a friend and I were responding to some nasty misogynistic graffiti on an abandoned train car by... well, obviously covering it with some loving, pretty paint of our own.  Thank God the real vandals were caught: meaning us.  We were interrogated about some neo-Natzi skin-head bombings from earlier this year... and you guessed it... they didn't get those kids, but they did manage to catch the hippie girl with peace signs and the pink-haired feminist.  

"New Jersey: you may not unlock your doors and rest in peace.

"Well, aside from riding in a police car that had been blasting Z100's countdown of Usher's Greatest Contributions to the Music World (surprisingly long, it turns out), getting dragged to more court dates than necessary, then being tagged with a fine of over $1800, this whole situation is really quite funny.  For one thing, there was a **public outcry** about the train vandals, or GRAFFITI GIRLS, as we were being called.  Granted, this mob was made up of about 5 crotchety old pricks, but they still got under my skin when they responded to what I considered a 'feminist' act with ignorant, sexist comments.  The bulk of them ran along the lines of telling the "girlies" to give up a life of crime for nail polish and boys like the "good old days."  What that means entirely, I don't know.

"Luckily, while this entire mess has yet to invoke anything less than rage from my end of things, I'm still somewhat amused that all this is going on around the same time as this issue.  Before being tried as a tagger, I was already interested in covering graffiti artists and the thin line between political/artistic protest and censorship.  

"This issue's gonna be fuuuuun..." 

Rest assured, suburban justice was served, and I got my due spark lit under me.  Really, what's the point in trying to write about something you don't Know?

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