yuppie revolutionaries

I remember driving down the road (on the right side of the road) listening to the radio, and all of a sudden being assaulted with the most innovative, angry, intense music I had ever heard. It was a sophisticated anger, with a musical core, very different from the hardcore punk stuff I listened to. When the song was over I actually stopped the car to write down the name of the band and the song. That very afternoon I bought the Rage Against the Machine CD that contained the song killing in the name of. This album was unbelieveable! one of the most intense recording I had ever listened to. And on the track, killing in the name of, there was a different ending than the one played on the radio. On the cd for many bars, Zack screams "F you I won't do what you tell me, F you I won't do what you tell me" It was very pleasing to my inner rebel.

Fast forward about three years, and I am working at a bar in the OC. Newport Beach California is one of the most surreal places I have ever been. The beautiful people, the beautiful cars, the beautiful beaches, it really is the American dream gone wild with a strong case of sun stroke. There are barbie dolls with fake boobs, and ken dolls with fake tans as far as the eye can see. And Margaritaville was one of the popular eating and drinking establishments in this yuppie wonderland.

It was great working security at this place, as most of the time there wasn't much to do. Word got around that all of the guys working at the bar were professional cage fighters and we really didn't have a lot of "action," most of the time it was just telling a drunk fella he wasn't allowed to drink anymore. There was a rotation of cover bands that played each weekend, and this particular night was one of the security's favourites. They played the more aggressive stuff, Nirvana, Social Distortion, and even KISS, but their big show stopper was Killing In The Name Of, but Rage Against the Machine. This night they left this song for the last song of the night.

And I will never forget the scene. One hundred ken and barbies are on the dance floor, with their highlighted hair, and designer clothing. Their bmw's, Mercs, and even a few Ferraris are waiting for them out in the parking lot. Their enthusiasm is swelled by the ridiculously priced mexican beers they have been drinking all night long. And then it happens, they begin to jump as one, shouting defiantly along with the singer FUCK YOU I WONT DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!!!FUCK YOU I WONT DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!!!

And I stood in the back of the bar, and laughed.

I probably don't need to tell you that every one of these rebels left the bar when we told them to, with no incident.

rev