SLC Punk! Page #3

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Maybe tone it down a bit.

The whole thing that you're doing.

In my day, it was long hair,

beatniks, paisley.

You know. That stuft.

Not like that kind of thing.

This whole thing you're doing...

this statement about

the American Indian...

I'm baftled.

And not just me.

A regular guy in the street's

gonna be baftled too.

And we're hip, we're cool.

It's just those guys on the east coast

are never gonna get it.

They're not gonna get this

in New York.

- Darling, we sound like our parents.

- Yeah.

- It's ditficult, dear.

- We just want to support you.

A hundred percent. Take the ball

and run with it. Make a difterence.

But always with love.

Remember that, Steven.

- Always with love.

- Oh, time out.

I just want to ask real quick,

it I can.

You believe in rebellion,

treedom and love, right?

- Absolutely. Yes.

- Rebellion, freedom, love.

You two are divorced,

so love tailed.

Two:
Mom, you're a New Ager, clinging to

any kind ot scrap ot eastern religion...

that may justify

why the above said love failed.

Three:
Dad, you're a slick,

corporate, preppy-ass lawyer.

I don't really have to say

anything else about you, do I?

Four:
You moved

from New York City...

the Mecca and hub of the cultural world,

to Utah... nowhere...

to change nothing...

more to perpetuate...

this cycle of money, greed,

fascism and triviality.

Your movement ot, by and for the people

got you nothing.

You just hide behind some lost sense

ot drugs, sex, rock and roll.

Ooh, Kumbaya.

I am the tuture.

I am the future of this great nation...

which you, Father,

so arrogantly saved this world tor.

Look. I have my own agenda.

Harvard, out.

University ot Utah, in.

I'm going to get a 4.0 in damage.

I love you guys.

Don't get me wrong.

It's all about this.

But for the tirst time

in my life, I'm 18...

and I can say, "F*** you!"

Steven, I didn't sell out, son.

I bought in.

Keep that in mind.

That kid is gonna make

one hell of a lawyer, huh?

Yeah, he takes atter his tather.

He's a son of a b*tch.

F*** you, dear.

And now, four years later,

I was a college graduate.

We did what we could to f*** things up,

but the system is strong...

and they were many

and we were still few.

But this fall

was gonna be the fall, all right.

Bob and the rest of us had made an oath

to do absolutely nothing.

We were gonna waste our educated minds.

We had no other way of fighting.

As I said,

there just weren't enough of us.

Sure, there was a lot more punks

than there was four years earlier...

but there was also as many posers.

Posers were people that looked like

punks, but they did it for fashion.

And they were fools.

They'd say, "Anarchy in the U.K."

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