Mikey, in his natural habitat
This is Hot Dice. Hot Dice is Serious Business.
I marvel at Hellarity. Every square inch of it, inside and out, is covered in murals, graffiti, writing of various sorts, and it is not so much inhabited as occupied or infested. It it maze-like, a warren of chaotic and fluid living. I felt like a tourist, not a guest, and I wanted to take pictures of everything. The first thing, when you come in the door, is a chalkboard with the pronouncement, "Fancy House has head lice." (Fancy House is another squat in Oakland). Hunter had been there a few months previously, with the band. He had described as a dirty crazy punk house. Which it is, of course, but I am often struck by the differences in the way the he and I react to various situations. In the past few months we have stayed at places like Hellarity, toured with an anarchist gypsy punk band, lived on a bus, eaten in soup kitchens, and listened to the anarchists expound on the virtues of cop killing. Hunter appears to take this all in stride. I, however, have kept up a constant internal monologue of "Holy shit! I'm living on a bus with anarchoprimitivists!" or "Holy shit! Do you see how they built bunk beds all over this room that used to be a vestibule so that now it houses like six people and how the walls are all covered with graffiti and that there are people's bags and little bikes and toys and things hanging from the ceiling and people just live here like it's the most natural thing in the world?"
I feel guilty for this in some ways, like I am a tourist in other people's lives. On the other hand, I am maintaining a constant state of wonder and taking nothing for granted, so that can't be a bad thing, right?
Also: Just 'cause they're anarchists doesn't mean they don't have rules.
nobody ever really followed those rules haha
ReplyDelete