Resisting Tyrannical Government

(It's a dirty job- but somebody's gotta do it). Why don't we all strap bombs to our chests and ride our bikes to the next G-7 picnic? It seems easier with every clock tick. But whose will would that represent? Mine? Yours? The rank-and-file's? Or better yet: the Government's? But I don't want to catalyze or synthesize the second Final Solution. I don't want to be the Steve Smith of the Revolution. Do you see the analogy? We're the Oilers. The World Bank- the Flames! And just 2 minutes remain in the 7th game of the best of 7 series! Yeah, Jesus saves! Gretzky scores! The workers slave. The rich get more. One wrong move and we risk the cup. So play The Man, not the puck. Why don't we plant a mechanic virus and erase the memory of the machines that maintain this capitalist dynasty? And yes, I recognize the irony that the very system I oppose affords me the luxury of biting the hand that feeds. But that's exactly why priviledged fucks like me should feel obliged to whine and kick and scream- until everyone has everything they need..

Remain

I can't believe the things that have been said. Remain for the purpose of remaining.. I can't believe all the things we've done. And still we've learned nothing..

Refusing To Be A Man

Purina Hall Of Fame

Pigs Will Pay

Ordinary People Do Fucked-up Things When Fucked-up Things Become Ordinary

Oka Everywhere

The best thing I ever saw on tv was that s.q. (securite quebec) cop catching a bullet with his teeth. condolence, madame canadiana, but your husband was a fucking (stuck) pig. but this song's no.

No Title

Disregard their suffering. spoon-fed fuck taught not to care.. It's easy for you to think everything is okay. this is ok?. I've never seen worse. they want what you have..

Party Time People

I see you shaking on the kitchen floor. It's the little things that give you away. You're gone you're gone, like yesterdays wine. But there's no line between mad and divine.

No Exchange

I never promised you nothing,. Never said I'd be your perfect shackled slave.. If success to you is measured in dollars and cents then I decline.. That's nothing. that's not my dream..

New Homes For Idle Hands

Natural Disasters

Nailing Descartes To The Wall/(liquid) Meat Is Still Murder

Mutual Friend

There was nothing remotely romantic about it. no hand-me-down sob-stories, either nurtured or genetic. so what was so goddamn important that I felt I had to shelve each and every one of my convi.

Middle Finger Response

Mate Ka Moris Ukun Rasik An

Dickheads shit-talk huddled and single-file. First-world frat-boys and prairie skinheads who will never walk a mile or mourn a murdered friend in this tiny woman's shoes. Drink up and mumble your abuse. I'm still humbled by it all: around the same time that i was riding with no hands, busting windows and getting busy behind the sportsplex (with Labonte's older sister decked out in her Speedos), Bella was flinching from the sting of a Depo Proveran "family planning", her own Pearl Harbour and a holocaust spanning 25 years to the rest of her life. A prison my country underwrote in paradise. And in the shadows of Santa Cruz, she crossed her fingers behind her back. Built Suharto a Trojan horse and lay still till the motherfucker sent her north where as night fell she emerged with a box under her arm that held her pledge of allegiance and her uniform. She laid it at the gates of the General's embassy and her whisper echoed into dawn as she disappeared:.

March Of The Crabs

Letter Of Resignation

Takes a dried up ballpoint, lemon juice and water, keeps diary invisibly. in the kitchen corner of a basement bachelor suite, there's a certain search for certainty, you know we'll never see her.

Less Talk, More Rock

Leg - Hold Trap

All answers seem to come to easily, to you the word rhetorical is wrong. these questions blur the things we need to see and simplicity beneath a song I try to make her see there is no way. attem.