Opinion: It’s Actually Punk as Shit To Sob While Watching ‘Over the Garden Wall’ Episode 9
Sup fuckers. Been hearin’ some murmurs throughout the basement (from MIDI drummers no less…which, like, those who squat in glass houses…) that I’m “soft.” There’s talk that I burst into tears during sound check because the arpeggio for our latest track “Guillotine Yuppie Scum While We Slamdance at Manitoba’s” is similar to the theme song from the Cartoon Network miniseries “Over the Garden Wall.” Well, guess what? It’s actually punk as shit to cry at the “Over the Garden Wall” series finale! Hell, if your heart doesn’t ache with the paternal desire to protect Gregory, you’re a fucking rotter, and you can shove your lack of childlike wistfulness up your ass!
If any of you posers were TRUE anarchists like me, you’d internalize Marx’s motherfuckin’ dialectic and realize that two seemingly opposite things can be true at once. I can be the baddest motherfucker to step inside the Fireside Bowl AND need confirmation that Lorna and Auntie Whispers are on good terms. I can burn pictures of the Pope onstage Sinead O’Connor-style while hoping a similar flame lights the Woodsman’s lantern so he can see his daughter again. (And before you hit me with “Um, actually, the lantern was a lie from the beast.” I FUCKING KNOW THAT! I’M NOT A POSER!) I just hate spoilers unless they’re fronted by Snuff bassist Dan Goatham. And if that reference is too niche for you, how about you refresh your UK punk revival knowledge instead of policing my taste in animation?) Just because I put anthrax in Sean Hannity’s house doesn’t mean I don’t get misty-eyed when Beatrice reunites with her family. Kapeesh?
Look, I know this might sound strange, but I grew up on the REAL MEN OF PUNK (Joey Ramone, Iggy Pop, Kathleen Hanna) and they taught me punk masculinity is about what you can build, not what you can destroy. Well, I want to DESTROY fascist scum, and BUILDING a realistic miniature of the Unknown using terracotta fabric paints from Michael’s is what will inspire me to do it. Hell, seeing the melancholic autumnal beauty of Pottsville is the VERY REASON I started my ecoterrorist zine!
If you share my vision, we’re doing a watch party at our concert next Friday, and when we play Wirt’s heartfelt poetry tape for Sarah, I want to see all you bitches in the motherfucking pit!
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