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In the early 1980s Stevo and Heroin Bob are the only two dedicated punks in conservative Salt Lake City.
Stevo: What do you do when your foundation falls apart? I don't know. They don't teach you that in school.
Stevo: Only posers die you fucking idiot!
Stevo: Wait, time out. I just wanted to ask real quick, if I can. You believe in rebellion, freedom and love, right? Mom: Absolutely, yes. Dad: Rebellion, freedom, love. Stevo: You two are divorced. So love failed. Two: Mom, your a New Ager, clinging to every scrap of 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 dad? Four: You move from New York City, the Mecca and hub of the cultural world to Utah! Nowhere! To change nothing! More to perpetuate this cycle of greed, fascism and triviality. Your movement of the people, by and for the people got you... nothing! You just hide behind some lost sense of drugs, sex and rock and roll. Ooooh, Kumbaya! I am the future! I am the future of this great nation which you, father, so arrogantly saved this world for. Look, I have my own agenda. Harvard, out. University of Utah, in. I'm gonna get a 4.0 in damage. I love you guys! Don't get me wrong, it's all about this. But for the first time in my life, I'm 18 and I can say "FUUUUUCK YOU!" Dad: Steven, I didn't sell out son. I bought in. Keep that in mind. That kid's gonna make a hell of a lawyer, huh? Mom: Yeah, he takes after his father. He's a son of a bitch. Dad: Well fuck you dear.
Stevo: And so there I was. I was gonna go to Harvard. It was obvious. I was gonna be a lawyer and play in the God-damned system, and that was that. I was my old man. He knew, so what else could I do? I mean, there's no future in anarchy; I mean let's face it. But when I was into it, there was never a thought of the future. I mean we were certain the world was gonna end, but when it didn't, I had to do something, so fuck it. I could always be a litigator in New York and piss the shit out of the judges. I mean that was me: a trouble maker of the future. The guy that was one of those guys that my parents so arrogantly saved the world for, so we could fuck it up. We can do a hell of a lot more damage in the system than outside of it. That was the final irony, I think. That, and well, this. And "fuck you" for all of you who were thinking it: I guess when all was said and done, I was nothing more than a God-damned, trendy-ass poser.
Heroin Bob: Well, it's a crazy fucked up world and we're all just floating along waiting for someone who can walk on water, man.
Clothing Store Woman: Can I help you? Sean: Yeah, I called about the job. Clothing Store Woman: You called? Sean: Yeah, I wanna sell clothes, women's clothes. Clothing Store Woman: I don't know. Have you ever had experience? Sean: With what? Clothing Store Woman: Women's clothes? Sean: What the fuck would I be doing with women's clothes? What do I look like a transvestite? I'm not no fucking transvestite, all right? Clothing Store Woman: No, no, no, I mean, have you ever worked in retail? Sean: Huh? Clothing Store Woman: You know, selling... clothess Sean: Well if I was selling clothes already, what would I be doing here? I really don't think this is the right way to start a working relationship. You got a real, a real bad attitude, lady. In fact I don't even wan't you job, I don't care how much you'd pay me, cause I got integrity, in-fucking-tegrity. WAAAH.
Stevo: You see life is like that. We change, that's all. You see, the guy I am now is not the guy I was then. If the guy I was then met the guy I am now he'd beat the shit out of me. Those are the facts.
Stevo: Posers were people who looked like punks but they did it for fashion. And they were fools, they'd say "anarchy in the UK." What the fuck's that? Anarchy in the UK. What good is that to those of us in Utah, America? It was a Sex Pistols thing. They were British, they were allowed to go on about Anarchy in the UK. You don't live your life by lyrics.
Stevo: Where were we going? I mean, really, what was happening? This life, it was crazy. I felt tired. I mean, halfway through the season, I just felt, inside, I was so tired. And I had this wave of melancholy just like sweep through me.
Stevo: I like Sandy. Now Sandy has nothing to do with anarchy in general, she's just a beautiful, wonderful, funny, witty, loving, sexy, tough-as-nails, little weird girl, and I absolutely adore her. I like Sandy a lot.
Mark: SINK, YOU FOOL!
Stevo: The Fight: What does it mean and where does it come from? An Essay: Homosapien. A man. He is alone in the universe. A punker. Still a man. He is alone in the universe, but he connects. How? They hit each other. No clearer way to evaluate whether or not you're alive. Now. Complications. A reason to fight. Somebody different. Difference creates dispute. Dispute is a reason to fight. Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain. So to fight with reason is to be alive with reason. Final analysis: To fight, a reason to live. Problems and Contradictions: I am an anarchist. I believe that there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam in the pit a show it is. But when we fight for a reason, like rednecks, there's a system, we fight for what we stand for, chaos. Fighting is a structure, fighting is to establish power, power is government and government is not anarchy. Government is war and war is fighting. The circle goes like this: our redneck skirmishes are cheap perversions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals, even freedom. But other people ideals forced on someone else, even if it is something like freedom, is still a rule; not anarchy. This contradiction was becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party, "Why did I love to fight?" I framed it, but still, I don't understand it. It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist. But there it was. Competition, fighting, capitalism, government, THE SYSTEM. That's what we did. It's what we always did. Rednecks kicked the shit out of punks, punks kicked the shit out of mods, mods kicked the shit out of skinheads, skinheads took out the heavy metal guys, and the heavy metal guys beat the living shit out of new wavers and the new wavers did nothing. What was the point? Final summation? None.
[handing Stevo a bag of weed] Mark: Here you go, but be careful, that stuff'll make you stupid. [Someone throws a beer can at Stevo] Stevo: FUCK YOU. Mark: Well, stupider than you already are.
Stevo: The sun never sets on the British Empire... well the sun never sets on my asshole.
Stevo: See, to me, England was nothing more then a big fucking American state like North Dakota or Canada.
Stevo: Do you love her? Bob: I don't know. I'd have to think about that. Stevo: It's not really a thinking question.
[on whether punk music started in England or America] Stevo: I don't know who started it and I don't give a fuck. The one thing I do know is that we did it harder, we did it faster, and we definitely did it with more love, baby. You can't take that away from us.
Bob: You're pretty fucking weird you know that?
Stevo: I rest my case on this: In a country of lost souls rebellion comes hard. But in a religiously oppressive city, where half it's population isn't even of that religion, it comes like fire.
Bob: You know that shit you guys do? You're fucking yourself up man. Fucking acid. Acid; it never leaves your body. It's in your fucking spinal cord forever. Let me tell you something about the nature of chemicals man: You know that dude Napoleon? Yeah. Uh, he was banished to an island when the French got sick of him. That's right. He supposedly died of stomach problems, right? wrong! He was actually poisoned over a long period of time. Murdered by arsenic; a preservative. And you know how? Stevo: No idea. Bob: His hair. Stevo: His hair? Bob: His fucking hair. It was arsenic. You could tell how long he was being poisoned by following the traces of poison up his hair. Dude, dude, dude, if you do enough hits of it you're dead! Stevo: It really makes you think, doesn't it Bob? Bob: Think? Think what? Stevo: That chemistry's the wrong fucking major for a guy like you. It's the wrong major, Bob! Bob: Well you should lay off the acid anyways man.
Bob: Hey Eddie, do you like this music? Eddie: Yeah. It rocks! Bob: Well I think this music's for posers. Eddie: [brief pause] Well i think you're a fag. Stevo: FAG!
Young Bob: How about, how about we turn this off? Young Stevo: Don't touch my stereo, Bob. Young Bob: Give it a chance, give me a chance. I got this from a guy I know in L.A. Young Stevo: You know a guy in L.A.? Young Bob: You tell ME... this doesn't rock. [stereo starts playing "Kiss Me Deadly"] Young Stevo: This isn't anything. Young Bob: Just give it a chance. Young Stevo: [pause] ... Well, what is it? Young Bob: What is it? Young Stevo: Yeah, what is it, Bob? Young Bob: It's new.
Mike: So Mark. how you doin' old man? Mark: FUCK! I'm not old motherfucker. Mike: Oh no, I just... no, I mean... you're older than anyone else here. Mark: It depends on how you look at it. I'm young in my heart! Younger then any of these assholes over there.
Stevo: To be an anarchist in Salt Lake City was certainly no easy task, especially in 1985. And having no money, no job, no plans for the future, the true anarchist position was in itself a strenuous job.
Bob: Chemicals man, they'll fuck you up.
Stevo: [about the "beat the shit" out of a guy who was having sex with his female friend] It wasn't that I loved Sandy, I knew that we had an understanding. But I discovered then that Chris was right, all things had systems, even me. I was about to beat the living shit out of this guy because he had invaded my territory. It was MY territory, no question about it, just like in the wild. I was following nature, and nature was order and order is the system.
Stevo: [in British accent] 'Ello, mistress. do you fancy a SHAG?
Bob: Sean, what are you doin' outside man? Sean: you're him? Bob: ...yeah... I'm him Sean: [claps hands together] JESUS! Have i sinned or am i goin' to heaven? Bob: [laughing] you're fryin' man, how much acid did you take? Sean: you're not Jesus... you're Bob Bob: I'm Bob!... how goes it? Sean: how are you doin' that? Bob: doin' what? Sean: walkin' on water? if i get off this chair I'll drown, you wanna know what Bob? 'Cause i cant swim! Bob: oh, i get it! so Sean, d'you see land anywhere? Sean: [looking around] no... just water... say Bob, You ARE Jesus. Bob: Thats Right, I am, why do you ask? Sean: ...Satan, is in the house, he killed my Mom and turned her into a bull! Cops: [after flashback to a scene with Sean threatening his mother with a knife but being scared by Satan and a bull, his mother] [bob waves to Seans mum at the window who reluctantly waves back] Cops: [the Cops pull in] Put your hands in the air and slowly turn around! Sean: [happy as happy can be] I'M SAVED Bob: yeah... sure Sean... you're saved...
Stevo: You're a Nazi! Dad: Nazi, I'm Jewish, Steven, how can I be a Nazi? Stevo: That's the worst. Dad, look at this. What kinda, what kinda car is this? Dad: That would be a Porshe. Stevo: A Porshe, that you bought at a Volkswagen dealership. Volkswagen, right? For the people who designed it? Who made that possible, Let me give you a hint, Adolf Hitler. Dad: IT'S JUST A CAR!
Bob: So, you see any land around here? Sean: Nope, just water.
Stevo: I love you guys, don't get me wrong. But for the first time in my life I'm eighteen and I can say fuuuuck youuu.
Stevo: There were quite a few punks in the SLC back in '85, but there were equally as many posers. Posers were kids who would dress and act like punks but they did it for fashion. They were fools! They'd say shit like... Poser: Anarchy in the U.K.! Stevo: See what I mean? Posers. "Anarchy in the U.K." What the fuck's that? It was a Sex Pistols thing. That's where they were from, they were British! They were allowed to go on about anarchy in the U.K. but what does that mean to us in Utah, America? That's all you ever hear from these trendy fucks like [in really bad British accent] Stevo: "Did you hear the new Smiths album? It's fuckin' terriff'!" Stupid posers walking around Utah saying "terriff'" with a stupid English twang. [Grabs a poser with Union Jack patch] Stevo: See what I mean? What's up with the England bullshit. Union Jack is a FAG! I used to know this girl who would only have sex with a guy if he had a stupid fuckin' accent. So these assholes... and there are plenty of assholes in this general area would get her drunk and then put on some stupid fuckin' accent and go to her and say Stevo: [in really bad English accent] Stevo: "'Ello misstress! You fancy a shag?" And there she'd be, fuckin knees in the sky. It was sad, it made me sad! Girl had no self respect!
Sean: Satan is in the house. He killed my mom... and turned her into a bull.
Liquor Store Man: What the hell are you? Stevo: ooo, we come from the east in search of the Messiah! We followed that big star [points upwards] Eddie: Yeah, we bring gold, and frankincense. Stevo: [Still pointing upwards] You see it? Eddie: and myrrh. Stevo, Eddie: Myrrh. Liquor Store Man: You do what? Stevo: Followed the star. Liquor Store Man: Oh my God. Who let you boys out of the state institute? We'd better get you boys back in the hospital. Bob: No, no, no, no, no, it's all right, man. We're from England. Liquor Store Man: England? Bob: Yeah, that's right. That's probably why we seem so weird to you, man. Liquor Store Man: England, huh? Well that explains it I guess.
Sean: [Police cars pull up to arrest Sean] I'm saved! Heroin Bob: Sure Sean, you're saved.
Stevo: There's nothing going on. That's what I saw when I looked out over the city: nothing. How the Mormon settlers looked upon this valley and felt that it was the promised land is beyond me. I don't know, maybe it looked different back then.
Mark: Now you see the problem with water beds is that they have these waves like this, [makes motions of waves with hands] Mark: Right? But you see this water bed is special, [draws his hands across the bed] Mark: , you see? It has no waves. Stevo: Why didn't you just get a normal bed... that has no waves? [awkward silence] Mark: But this HAS no waves.
Stevo: It really makes you think, doesn't it, Bob? Bob: Think what? Stevo: That chemistry's the WRONG FUCKING MAJOR FOR A GUY LIKE YOU. It's the wrong major, Bob. Bob: Well you shoud still lay off the acid.
Mark: That's what's wrong with you Americans, you're always looking for pain. Mike: Yeah well... it pains me to hear you say that, Mark, it really does.
Sean: I can't get off this chair or I'll drown, wanna know why, Bob? 'Cause I can't swim.
Nurse: You here to visit? Mike: Yes. I think we're all excited to see how he's doing. Nurse: Have you seen "The Exorcist"? Mike: Yeah. Nurse: Did you like it? Mike: Yeah. Is this dangerous? Nurse: Not clinically. Stevo: What does that mean?
Sean: You know what Bob? You ARE Jesus! Heroin Bob: That's right... Why do you ask?
Mike: I wanna save the rain forests, y'know, somebody's gotta fight for them, it's just... [can't seem to find the right word, so he slams the table instead]
Stevo: [to Mark who is leaving Salt Lake City] If you ever get lonely, if you ever need someone to talk to... Bob's here for you. Mark: Hey Stevo. [good naturedly] Mark: Fuck you. Stevo, Bob: Noooo. Fuuuccckkkk yooouuuuuuu.
Sean: No, you're not Jesus, you're Bob! Bob: I'm Bob!
Bob: Fuck you! Stevo: No, fuck yourself. You'd get more pussy.
Stevo: I mean, I knew a girl, right, who'd only have sex with a guy if he had a fuckin' accent. Can you think of anything more ludacris in your life? So every asshole in Salt Lake City, and let me tell ya, plenty assholes in this general region, that wanna do a little of this, would get her drunk and put on some kind of stupid fucking accent like 'Ello mistress, do you fancy a shag?' And there she would, fuckin' knees to the sky. It was sad, it made me really sad. Poor girl had no self respect.
Bob: You know that shit you guys do? You're fucking yourselves up man. Fucking acid, acid, it never leaves the body. It's in your fucking spinal cord forever.
Stevo: It's like fucking Jesus Christ took a shit and it landed right here, so you can be happy all you fucking want.
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