ʕ •ω•ʔ

just remembered music is real

organisms commonly known by their binomial name with the genus name abbreviated:

“Swastikas in punk are basically another way for kids to get a rise out of their parents and maybe the press, both of whom deserve the irritation. To the extent that most of these spikedomes ever had a clue what the stuff originally meant, it only went so far as their intent to shock. “It’s like a stance”, as Ivan [Julian] says. “A real immature way of being dangerous.” Maybe. Except that after a while this casual, even ironic embrace of the totems of bigotry crosses over into the real poison… Something harder to pass off entered the air in 1977, when I started encountering little zaps like this: I opened up a copy of a Florida punk fanzine called New Order and read an article by Miriam Linna of the Cramps, Nervus Rex, and now Zantees: “I love the Ramones [because] this is the celebration of everything American — everything teenaged and wonderful and white and urban…” You could say the “white” jumping out of that sentence was just like Ornette Coleman declaring This Is Our Music, except that the same issue featured a full-page shot of Miriam and one of her little friends posing proudly with their leathers and shades and a pistol in front of the headquarters of the United White People’s Party, under a sign bearing three flags: “GOD” (cross), “COUNTRY” (stars and stripes), “RACE” (swastika). Sorry, Miriam, I can go just so far with affectations of kneejerk cretinism before I puke.”