Son, You’re Not Thinking of Fighting the Powah, Are You?

Son, c’mere. Sit down for a moment. It’s time to talk about The Man, and how to co-exist peacefully under his thumb. Look at the newspaper I got this morning. As you can see, scrawled across the front page in red ink in childlike hand, is this message:

MA11 R10t @ sEv3n oh-cL0cK FriEdAy PA55 1T 0n

Now, I may be in my 30s, but I know “fronting” when I see it. Seems to me that that kid with the gold chains and the paper route is trying to start a riot at the local mall because they won’t let him buy State of Emergency for the PS2. Isn’t that the game that simulates rioting and looting and destruction and hurting? Well let me make one thing clear, son: This family has a moratorium on rioting at malls! Particularly after Aunt Mabel led that little uprising at the Piercing Pagoda back in ‘92.

Let me tell you a story. I was a wild young man once. I showed up to my ninth grade homecoming dance in KISS makeup. And instead of mild-mannered games like The Sims, I used to play “hardcore” and “edgy” videogames like Skate or Die. Anyways, back when I was your age, the hot new game at the mall was called NARC. You and a friend got to play as cops – a red cop and a blue cop, as the backstory goes – and you got to kill people, son. Lots of people. At one point, you got to drive a car and run over people so that blood and limbs would fill the screen. Now I realize that you kids can get that kind of thing from a Mario game nowadays, but back then it was a big deal.

I remember my mother telling me – this was before she tipped that vending machine onto herself – I remember her saying that I wasn’t allowed to play that game. She even told the manager of the arcade, and he would boot me out if he caught me. Boy, son, I was mad. I had righteous, youthful rage. The system was keeping me down. Like you, I wanted to TEAR THAT MALL APART. It was like the Beasty Boys told me: I had to fight for my right to party.

I’m not going to go into details about what happened next. But there’s something you need to know about The Power, son, before you try to fight it. The Power has dogs. Dogs, son. Big ones. Sharp teeth. Between you and me, I believe that when the Power isn’t putting you down, it’s sharpening the teeth of its dogs.

Nowadays I’m a different person. I’ve learned to work with The Man, so that I can own exciting, fulfilling things like Sport Utility Vehicles. Don’t get me wrong son, I’m still one subversive mofo. I just show it in different ways. If I have a bad day, rather than breaking store windows, I come home and tell your mother she’s fat. Try it sometime! One time at work, I photocopied my butt. It’s true. I use my TiVo to skip commercials. And I never, ever flush public toilets. Take it from me son – you can have the best of both worlds. Just for God’s sake stay home on Friday night! Riots are bad. The System is GOOD.


Victim Pic Small

In fact, I should’ve been more careful when photocoping my butt and posting it up in the mail room. Astute viewers would’ve noticed the disctinctive teeth marks left by the dogs.


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