All language subtitles for SLC.Punk.1998.2160p.UHD.BluRay.x265-SURCODE

The thing about me and Bob,
and pretty much all of us

was we hated rednecks
more than anything else, period.

Because rednecks for us
were America incarnate.

And America?

Well, fuck America.

So, hey,
what do you wanna do now?

Let's score.
I gotta get some pelt tonight

-or my balls are gonna drop off.
- I hear that.

Yeah!

Come on, cowboy!

Let's go, come on.

What can I say?

We weren't much more
than a couple of young punks.

Good morning, Bob.
Rise and shine.

Beautiful fucking day.

All right.

Two more hours.

But that's it.

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.

And our tribe was small.
I mean, at the center was me, Stevo

and Bob, my roommate.
Heroin Bob.

Oh, Bob didn't really do heroin.
In fact, he hated needles.

Bob's irrational fear of needles

was in contrast to
everything about the guy.

You'd think he was a madman

which, you know, he was.

But he was also one of the most
uptight guys I'd ever met.

He didn't do anything
about the cut on his hand.

I mean, absolutely nothing.
He wrapped it up

in a dirty old T-shirt
and he left it like that for weeks.

Is he gonna be okay?

Oh, yeah. He'll be fine, I'm sure.
Thank you, though.

Hi. How we doing?

Okay. Can I take a look at that?

Okay. All right.

What the heck did we do here?

That wound's the most infected thing
I've ever seen.

I hate doctors, man. I hate them.

Well, you're lucky those boys
brought you here.

Okay? Because without me,
you'd be dead.

Patty, we need
a gram of amoxicillin in here, stat.

That's a nasty cut you got.
How did you manage that?

I fell off my bike.

Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry.
Does it still hurt?

-That's a nice kid.
-Yeah, sad, really.

-How's that?
-Kids.

There's not much future for them.

-We all die, Stevo.
-Security to the loading dock.

That's true. Very true, Mike.

No, no, no. No, I'm fine. I'm fine.

Get that fucking needle
away from me, man.

No, I don't do needles.
Get off me. Get off!

Goddamn it. No, no.
You pack of murderers. No!

No needles!
Help me. Help. No, no, please.

So Heroin Bob was named as such
because he was afraid of needles.

But not just needles.
The guy was afraid of drugs too.

We couldn't even get him
to take a damn aspirin.

He drank and he smoked cigarettes,
but that's it. He'd say:

You know that shit you guys do?
You're fucking yourselves 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?

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?
-No idea.

-His hair.
-His hair?

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.

-It makes you think, doesn't it?
-Think what?

That chemistry's the wrong
fucking major for you.

-It's the wrong major, Bob.
-You should lay off the acid anyways.

-You heard about Sean?
-No, what happened?

You know he was selling acid, right?

No, man. I told you $25, man, $25.
It's inflation.

Shit's getting expensive.

-Thanks, man.
-No problem.

-Nice spikes.
-Nice fucking suit.

-Thanks.
-Let me ask you something, Sean.

What the fuck
did you become a punk for?

Hey, man. Come on. The kid wants
to be a punk, let him be a punk.

You see, Russ.

Mods are pussies, man.

-Shit's fucking dead.
-If we catch you tonight,

-we're kicking your ass.
-Come on. Kid's all right.

Kick my ass?

-Let's go.
-Get on your bikes and ride away.

-Hey, fuck you.
-No, thanks, sweetheart. All right.

Your mom's driving us to practice?

-Four o'clock.
-You guys enjoy.

So Sean puts all this acid
in his pocket and the school cop--

-Where was this?
-Southeast High, man.

So he takes off running

and he's running through
the track field

and the sprinklers are on.

So the water
soaks through his pants

and melts the acid,
which went through his pants

onto the skin on his leg.

So, you know,
over 100 hits of acid

dissolved into Sean's leg.

Fried him.

I went to see him a week later

and it had just snowed,
and he was sitting outside in the cold.

Sean?

What are you doing outside, man?

Are you him?

-Yeah, I'm him.
-Jesus!

Have I sinned
or am I going to heaven?

You're frying, man.

-How much acid did you take?
-Wait, you're not Jesus.

-You're Bob.
-I'm Bob. How goes it?

-How are you doing that?
-Doing what?

Walking on water. If I get off this chair,
I'll drown. Wanna know why, Bob?

-Because I can't swim.
-Oh, I get it.

So, Sean,
do you see land anywhere?

No. Just water.

-Say, Bob?
-Yeah.

You are Jesus.

That's right, I am. Why do you ask?

Satan is in the house.

He killed my mom

and turned her into a bull.

Oh, I didn't hear you come in.

-What? What?
-Come here.

I gotta kill her!

Okay! Hold still!

Put your hands in the air
and slowly turn around.

-I'm saved! I'm saved!
-Put your hands up.

-Yeah, sure, Sean. You're saved.
-I said, put your hands in the air.

Chemicals, man.
They'll fuck you up.

I wondered what happened
to that crazy little shit.

It's a crazy, fucked-up world and
we're all just barely floating along

waiting for somebody
that can walk on water.

Bob was like that.

A real asshole when it came
to reading into things.

He liked to wrap things up into neat
little packages that implied the world.

See, Sean was fucked up,

not the world.
The world was just confused.

And not the world, really,
just the people in it.

Bob was confused. And more,
Bob was paranoid as fuck.

That's right, quarantine. The doctor
said that Bob's infection was so bad

that it had become a lethal virus.

So he was under quarantine
for some weeks.

It was the beginning of the fall
and the rest of our lives.

We both graduated college
and were taking summer classes.

A feat, considering
our aim in college

was to be as destructive
as possible.

Our mission after leaving high school
as two aspiring young punks,

the only two punks
in Salt Lake City at the time,

was to go to university
and bring down the system.

Why? Well, for obvious reasons.

Anarchy.
The only system of government

that seemed to make any sense.

And the irony was we had
made it through. I did well, even.

My father was hell-bent
on getting me to go

to Harvard Law, like he had done
when he was a kid.

My father tried to get me to go
right after high school.

Thank you for giving us your time.

Your mother and I
found this to be rather important.

You finished high school.

Thank God.

Now it's your time to do good.

This rebellion thing you're
going through, I understand it.

Not completely, but I respect it.

Now, you should think about
what is right for you.

I mean, be free, darling, always.

Yeah. Be practical, Steve.

You got a chance to go to Harvard.
You've got me as an alumnus.

-That can't hurt.
-Only if it makes you happy.

Look, if you wanna rebel there,
you can do it. I went to Woodstock.

Me and the guys had a lot of fun.
We did our thing.

We got behind some causes, though.
We fought for some very strong causes.

We ended-- Collectively,
we ended that goddamn war in Nam

so that guys like you could be free.

There's all these possibilities, Steven.
Carry the torch now.

I can see by looking at you
that you're ready.

-I'm proud that you're an individual.
-Very proud.

So proud.

One thing.

This may not be easy to hear,
but the hair.

Maybe tone it down.
The whole thing that you're doing.

In my day, it was, you know hair--
Long hair, beatniks, paisley.

You know, that stuff and...

Not liked, that kind of thing.
This whole thing you're doing,

this statement about
the American Indian.

I'm baffled, and not just me.

A regular guy in the street's
gonna be baffled too.

And we're hip, we're cool.

It's just those guys on the East Coast
are never gonna get it. With that:

They're not gonna get this
in New York, you know?

Oh, Jesus.

-Darling, we sound like our parents.
-Yeah.

-It's difficult, dear.
-We just wanna support you.

A hundred percent. Take the ball
and run with it. Make a difference.

But always with love.
Remember that, Steven.

-Always with love.
-Oh, time-out.

I just wanna ask real quick,
if I can,

you believe in rebellion,
freedom and love, right?

-Absolutely, yes.
-Rebellion, freedom, love.

You two are divorced, so love failed.

Two: Mom, you're a New Ager

clinging to any 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 have to say anything else
about you, do I, Dad?

Four: You moved
from New York City,

the mecca and hub of the
cultural world, to Utah, nowhere,

to change nothing, to perpetuate

this cycle of money, greed,
fascism and triviality.

Your movement of, by
and for the people got you nothing.

You just hide behind some lost sense
of drugs, sex, rock 'n' roll.

Oh, "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, "Fuck you!"

Steven, I didn't sell out, son.
I bought in.

Keep that in mind.

That kid is gonna make
one hell of a lawyer.

-Yeah, he takes after his father.
-Well, thanks.

He's a son of a bitch.

Fuck you, dear.

And now, four years later,
I was a college graduate.

We did what we could to fuck
things up, but the system is strong

and they were many
and we were still few.

But this fall was gonna be
the fall, all right.

Bob and the rest of us had made
an oath to do absolutely nothing.

We were gonna waste
our educated minds.

We had no other way of fighting.

As I said,
there just weren't enough of us.

Sure, there's more punks
than there was four years earlier

but there was also
as many posers.

Posers were people
that looked like punks

but they did it for fashion.

-And they were fools. They'd say:
-"Anarchy in the U.K."

You see? Posers.
"Anarchy in the UK"

What the fuck's that?

What good is that to those of us
in Utah, America?

It was a Sex Pistols thing, right?
From England.

British. That's what they did.

They were allowed to go on about
anarchy in the U.K.

You don't live your life by lyrics.

That's all you ever heard
from these trendy fucks.

Like, "Did you hear the new
Smiths album? It's fucking terrif."

Kids walking around Utah saying
"terrif" with a stupid English twang.

See what I mean? What the fuck's up
with the England bullshit?

Union Jack is a fag.

I knew a girl who'd only have sex
with a guy if he had an accent.

Can you think of anything
more ludicrous?

So every asshole in Salt Lake City

and let me tell you, plenty of assholes
in this region,

that wanna do a little of this,

would get her drunk and put on
some stupid accent, like:

"Hey, hey, mistress,
do you fancy a shag?"

And there she would,
knees in the sky.

Sad. It made me really sad.
Poor girl had no self-respect.

See, to me England was nothing
more than a big American state

like North Dakota or Canada.

You gotta look at me and say:

"Hey, buddy, why are you so mad?"
And I'll tell you.

For all the fawning that went
over the English bands,

those English chaps could
only say shit about Americans.

All we were to them was hicks.

Well, you know what?
I'm not a fucking hick.

I don't wear cowboy boots.
I hate the rodeo.

Horses smell like shit to me.

I don't fuck anyone
in my own bloodline.

By definition, I'm not a redneck
and, goddamn it, I ain't a fucking hick.

Oh, the sun never sets
on the British Empire.

Well, the sun never sets
on my asshole.

Another thing that pissed me off,
talking about who started punk rock.

Was it Sex Pistols in England?

Was it the Ramones and
the Velvet Underground in New York?

"It was the Ramones."
"It was the Sex Pistols."

Who cares who started it?
It's music.

I don't know who started it.
I don't give a fuck.

The one thing I do know
is that we did it harder,

goddamn it, we did it faster,

and we definitely did it
with more love, baby.

You can't take that away from us.

Exhibit A.

It's my only exhibit, really,
but you know what?

I think it's pretty fucking good.

Fuck off and die.

If you were a fucking man,
you'd fuck me.

I said if you were a fucking man,
you'd fuck me right here and now.

Fuckers.

Hey, wasn't she with you?

-Who?
-Sandy.

Last week, dude.

We hung out, but nobody's anybody's.
Anyway, I got my eye on Trish.

Hey, where is Trish?
I have to talk to her.

She's setting up for the after-party
for the band.

Hey, isn't Trish, like, 30-something?

Yeah, dude.
She's fucking smart as hell too.

I could listen to her talk for,
like, hours.

Yeah, that's good for you
because all she ever does is talk.

I see Stevo is getting along tonight.

I gotta do something.

So, Mark, how are you doing,
old man?

Fuck!

I am not old, motherfucker.

Oh, no. I just-- You know, I mean,
you're older than anyone else here.

It depends on how you look at it.

I'm young in my heart,

younger than any of these sad souls
over there.

You know, Bob,
he's always looking for pain.

That's why I don't understand
you Americans.

You're always looking for pain.

Yeah, well, you know what?
It pains me to hear you say that, Mark.

It really does.

Hold these.

More pain you're looking for?

No, I have to go take care
of something.

-Hey, that's Bob!
-What?

-Bob.
-Yeah, Bob!

Fuck you!

The police. What an untidy group
of little fascists.

What do you expect
in a town of God?

Mormons run the state

and that is
the state of things, I'm afraid.

-Listen.
-Poser.

Let me explain.

It was my instinct to react that way
because you punched my friend.

I'm the bouncer for the band.
It's my job.

Yes, but this is a punk show.

And mayhem and punk shows,
it's like peas and carrots.

I's common to jump on stage

and then he jumps right off again.

Look, I'm really sorry
about the beating.

I hope your stay
in America is more pleasant.

-You're under arrest, son.
-For selling pot?

-It's harmless.
-No, no, the pot's fine.

However, this shirt happens to be
illegal in several states.

I see. It should be a torn shirt, huh?

With a picture of Ronald Reagan on it,
maybe with a bullet hole in his head?

-That would be more punk?
-Yeah, you're a good man, Mark.

We need more men like you
in America.

I rest easier now that you say this.

-Eddie.
-Bobby.

-Hey. Fuck you, man.
-Hey.

-Hey, you're that singer dude.
-Hey.

So, what'd you think,
good show or--?

No, man.
I'll never play this town again, mate.

It's too tame for you British types?

-No, it's too bleeding violent.
-Thank you.

Come with me.
I've got something to show you.

So here's this band.

ECP, Extreme Corporal Punishment.

One of the toughest,
most hard-core bands in the U.K.

Good band as well.
They come to Salt Lake City,

they think it's too tough.

An 18-year-old punk
beat the shit out of their bouncer.

I rest my case on this.

In a country of lost souls,

rebellion comes hard.

But in a religiously
oppressive city,

which half its population
isn't even of that religion,

it comes like fire.

You're here to visit?

Yes. I think we're all excited
to see how he's doing.

Have you seen The Exorcist?

-Yeah.
-Did you like it?

Yeah. Is this dangerous?

Not clinically.

What does that mean?

-Jesus.
-Hey, Bob.

Are you alive?

I want a cigarette, man.

-I wanna get out of here, man.
-Listen. We got good news.

Now, they say
today's gonna be your last day.

-Today?
-Today.

Thank God.
These doctors can kiss my ass.

Knock it off, tough guy,
or I'll give you another shot.

Woman fucking hates me, man.

You look good.
What's with the tape?

Don't tell me you're going poser
on me, you big loser.

No, dude. I'm going crazy, man.
How long have I been in here?

-Three weeks.
-Oh, my God.

-Anyone come visit you?
-No, no. Just you. Just you guys.

You did. I've been quarantined, man.
They named a disease after me.

-You are a disease.
-What about your father, Bob?

-What about my father?
- I just thought-- He didn't--

Oh, no, no, no. He didn't come.

He's-- He's-- He's drunk, you know.

But I'm free, huh? I'm free.

You know, I love the guy.

Now the fall of hate
could really get started.

The first order of business,
a party at our apartment.

This is, like,
the first party of the fall, right?

The whole tribe's here.
Everyone's in the house.

Let me make introductions.

-You remember Bob, of course. He's--
-Hey, stop fucking with that stereo!

He's also one of the hosts.
It's his fucking stereo.

And this-- Oh, my God.
This is Trish.

She's, like, a bohemian queen.

She is the goddess of the scene.
Everybody really wants her.

Hey, come on. Let's keep going.

Now stay close, because, like,
I don't really know everyone here.

There's a lot of posers.

This kid, though.
This kid, he's not a fucking poser.

He's not a poser.
He looks like a total nerd, right?

This guy looks like a geek,
but his name's Mike.

He's one of the most hard-core guys
in the scene.

Watch. Stay where you are.
I'll be right back.

This is great. It's my favorite part.

This guy.

You see what I mean? Punk rock!

It's punk rock!

The party's in full swing.
Let's continue.

Hey. Hey, Mark, how's it rolling?

Rolling fine.

-Here. It's on me.
-For me??

But be careful,
that stuff can make you stupid.

Fuck you!

More stupid than you already are.

Hey, this is Mark.
Now, Mark is not a punk rocker.

He's nothing, really.
He's not even a peer.

Everybody knew him.
All the tribes love him

because he always had
pot and acid.

What this crazy foreign fuck was doing
behind this iron curtain, I had no idea.

I don't think anyone in Utah
really knew

but we did know that he was rich,
loaded with killer bud

and completely out
of his fucking mind.

Mark was rich,
but not because he was a pusher

which he really wasn't.
He was independently wealthy.

His whole family died in a plane crash
over in Europe when he was 4.

The thing was, he liked
to buy stuff and show it off.

His bank account bulged
from the insurance off the crash.

You'd have to sit through
some shit if you wanted to score

because one thing about Mark,
he loved company.

This looks like a silver record,
but it's not a silver record.

It's a laser disc.

This one is a waterbed.

But it's not a normal waterbed
because a normal one goes like this:

Lots of waves. Funny thing is,
this one doesn't have any waves.

Well, why didn't you just buy
a normal mattress

that doesn't have waves?

This one doesn't have waves.

See, it also comes in silver, but
I bought black because it looks cooler.

-Yeah, but--
-This is the masterpiece.

It has one, two, three,
four, five, six, seven--

Seven settings for optimum comfort,

all of which
I will gladly show you now.

It has this projector in the back.

Five thousand bucks.
You can buy a fucking car for that.

This thing here
has a little platinum thing.

There's a movie on there.

And so it never, never, ever
gets, like, dirty. The--

I don't buy records. I only buy CDs
because they sound much better.

-That's great.
-Hey, there's more.

-A lot more?
-Much more.

Wake up.

It was a character flaw, sure,
but we all have those.

This part didn't concern me.
The main problem with Mark

was that he was intimidating
and he had a tendency to snap.

He was afraid of getting ripped off.

At the same time, he ripped
things off without shame or guilt.

Chaos in man, although hopeful,

could also be, you know,
a little tiresome.

I had two bags of grass
in this kitchen.

They are always trying to stiff me,
you know?

-Who is?
-Who?

Who?

Everybody.

You know I give to everybody, Stevo.
You know that.

And they just go ahead
and try to take whatever they want.

It makes me wanna kill...

which I've done in the past,
believe me.

I'm not saying it makes me a man.
I'm just passing on the information.

When did you kill?

In Miami, I shot two men.

Why do you think I'm here?
Because I love this place?

Salt Lake Shitty?

They tried to rob me,
so I shot them in the head.

You have to put at least one bullet
in the head just to make sure.

Get out of here. Come on.

You didn't kill anybody. Fuck you.

-You don't believe me, huh?
-No.

Well.

-Hey.
-With this.

You wanna be a cowboy,
I show you cowboy.

Just put that thing away.
I hate those things.

Put it away. I get the joke.
Now put it away.

When I was a kid,
my family died in a crash.

-Yeah, I know.
-You know?

My mother told us to buckle up

because things
were going to get bumpy.

So I did.
I looked at her and she smiled.

And then like this, boom,
the plane was going down.

My dad was next to the pilot
and he told us not to worry.

But, hey, even at 5,
I knew we had trouble

because the pilot was crying.

So I looked at my sister. She was like,
"Oh, man. We're getting close."

So I looked at my mom again
and she smiled at me again

and so this time I smiled.

And then we hit the ground

and something
came through that plane

and cut my mother's head off.

So now this head
was flying straight at me

and she never took her eyes
off of me.

That's when I passed out.

And when I woke up, my family
was all around me in pieces.

I saw my mother's arm,
my sister's leg,

my brother's head.

But I couldn't find my father.

I wanted to, though,

because I was going to
kick his fucking dead body.

Because he lied.

You know what
I'm trying to tell you, Stevo?

It's so easy, so easy
to get it taken away from you.

And they try.
Every chance they get, they try.

It's bad.

I mean, it's really bad.

Do you trust Bob?

Bob?

Yeah.

I think he might have taken my stuff.

Well, he's asleep.

What about when we were upstairs?

He could have taken it then.

Right. Well, I don't think so.

I mean, it's not like Bob.
He's not a thief.

How do you know? You know what?
I think we should ask him.

No. No. Hey, Mark. Wait.

Hey, Mark. Come on.
Just chill out, man.

-Oh, Jesus. Hey, wake up.
-Hey, you!

Get up. You have my shit.

Put that shit away
before I kick your ass.

-Shit. Are you all right?
-It's all right.

Get off my back!
I don't wanna hurt you.

Come here.

-What? What?
-Come on. Empty your pockets.

-This is fucking uncool, Mark!
-We'll see about cool in a minute.

-All right.
-He doesn't have anything. I told you.

-Shut up! Man!
-That's it. That's it, dude.

I'm sorry.

-You're sorry?
-Yeah, I just thought you had my shit.

Yeah, well, fuck you, man.

Hey, don't say that, "Fuck you."
I said I'm sorry.

-No, fuck you.
- I said sorry.

-Come on. You're like my brother.
-No. Get away.

-All right. All right. I'm not mad. Yeah.
-You're my friend, huh?

-Give me a kiss.
-All right.

Here you go.

Hey, did I scare you?

- It didn't scare me.
-It was a joke, you know.

-That's funny.
-Yeah. Okay.

-Good one, buddy.
-Okay.

-You shot the couch.
-You know what? I buy a new one.

-Oh, there you go.
-I say we go out and steal a car, huh?

-All right.
-Okay? Okay, let's go.

Punk rock. Maybe you should
just leave the gun, though.

So Mark and Bob made up because,
you know, that's just how Mark was.

What could you do? Later he stole
a car. Not that he needed a car.

He already had, like,
I don't know, three cars.

But I guess fun is fun.

We drove around for a while,
got stoned. Me and Mark.

Bob just drank beers.

We talked and listened to Mark's
nonsense theories about everything.

You know what the funny thing is
about Ronald Reagan?

Actually, it's not that funny

because the poor guy
has only one testicle left.

-No shit.
-It's true. I saw a picture once.

-Fuck, dude.
-That explains a lot.

Ronnie.

The world has no way to clean itself.
That's why there is so much dust.

There's this underground road,
and it leads from Texas to D.C.

You know what?
They smuggle UFOs through there.

It's a bad thing.

Unidentified flying objects?

Did you know
that dolphins are man-evolved?

Did you know that?

I saw once a half-dolphin,
half-man in Greece.

And as the night closed,
Mark decided to dump the stolen car.

You know, evidence.

Sink.

Sink, you fool.

Hey, why won't she sink?

Well, it's because
it's the Great Salt Lake.

-And?
-Yeah, dude. There's salt in it.

It's, like,
the saltiest lake in the world.

-It makes things buoyant, you know?
-Buoyant. It floats.

-You've gotta be kidding me.
-No.

Sink, you fool!

You fucking stupid
bastard lake! Sink!

-What are you trying to do to me?
-All right. Okay. No, no, no.

-That's okay. Let's go.
-Guys! Guys!

I'm not done with you!

And when all was said and done,
Mark was an okay guy

and an evening with him
was proof of anarchy.

So we accepted him,
and he came to our parties.

Hey, I'll catch you later, all right?

Not if I see you first.

-I know.
-Excuse me.

-Can I get through?
-Stevo.

-Hey, Jen!
-Oh, I love your house.

Thank you.
Hey, look it, Jennifer, look it.

This is Jennifer. She's 17.
She looks a lot older.

She looks older because
this lifestyle hardens you.

It takes the piss out of you.
And she's got this brother--

Easy over there!
She's got this brother named Chris.

He's this death-rock punk guy,
and he's, like--

I don't know why I'm telling you.
You'll meet that kid later.

Now this girl, absolutely beautiful,
sweet as pie,

is the greatest child
God ever put on this earth.

But you do not wanna mess with her
when she hasn't had her medication

in a dark, deserted alley.

She will-- I repeat,
she will rip your head off.

This girl is a carnivore.

Look, carnivore. Be careful.

-Who else can I introduce you to?
-Stevo.

- I have been looking for you.
-Oh, yeah, baby.

This is Sandy. Oh, my God, Sandy.
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.

This is John the mod.
Now, mods aren't punks.

We get in a lot of spats with mods,
but he's okay.

He's one of those kinds of guys.

He goes in between the tribes freely,
like a diplomat.

-Gandhi!
-He always brings gifts.

-Where'd you get the beer?
-Wyoming. Where else?

This needs some explanation.

Beers in supermarkets
in Utah is weak.

Three points instead of
the normal six of alcohol.

It's the religious influence,
and a pain in the ass.

It makes no sense. If you
got alcohol, you got alcohol.

So why three instead of six?

You know a drunk's gonna drink
twice as many beers to get drunk.

Not only do you have a drunk
on your hands

but you got a drunk
who's fat and gross.

There's nothing worse. So if you want
real beer, you have two choices:

A, the state-run liquor store.

Here, you can buy regular beer.
There are three stores

in Salt Lake City to buy it
and their hours suck. Oppression.

Also, not just beer. These were
the only places to buy any alcohol

outside of private clubs.

Who can afford those,
except for guys like my dad?

Don't. Quit it. Knock it off.
Come on. Don't do that. So, yeah.

What do they call you?
Do you have a nickname?

-They do. Yeah.
-TLM.

-"The long man"?
-"Third-leg material.”

You could get whiskey, gin, wine.

Here's where they kept it.
And here's the worst part:

IDs, boys.

See, now, this teller,
he's not just a teller.

He's a cop. This guy right there,
a fucking cop.

We buy beer, me and Bob

and this guy's calling
a squad car to follow us.

One look at us and he knows:

"Gosh, those guys
are gonna be trouble."

Now, Bob and I
may not be innocent

but we are usually
pretty law-abiding. Usually.

On this occasion, we had done
absolutely nothing wrong.

We looked suspicious, yes,
but in all the years of prelaw,

I uncovered contradictions
in the system

but I had found nothing
that told me looking suspicious

was a crime in and of itself.

Come on. Just give me a shot.
Come on.

-Okay.
-There you go! Come on.

But this was not about the law,
this was about rednecks.

The battle continued.
Who's to blame them?

I mean, the cops were rednecks,
our mortal enemies.

Worse than mods, worse than
rockers, worse than posers.

So we took our beatings
when we could.

But in this complex world of fascism
that was Utah state policy,

we had only one choice
if we wanted real beer.

Choice B, Wyoming.

The state line
was one hour and one half,

a short ride to Evans ton, Wyoming.
You could get booze like a free man.

Like boozers used to go to Canada
for the poison during Prohibition.

So we rode that morning
before the party with Eddie.

Eddie wasn't an anarchist.
He wasn't even really a punk.

Eddie was into women.

But not in a macho, jerky kind of way.
He was a true romantic.

He had his ass beat several times
for being gay, which he was not.

Imagine, fag-bashed
without the benefits.

I could give a shit what
the rednecks in this town think.

I know I'm not gay.
The ladies know I'm not gay.

I have no problem with gay guys.

As a matter of fact, they are
some of the coolest guys that I know.

The only reason
half these guys start shit--

I's not because
they wanna fight me.

It's because they wanna fuck me.

I don't know, man.

If somebody called me something
that I wasn't, I could see getting mad.

The problem with somebody
giving you shit about being gay--

It's not that they're wrong about you,
it's that they're giving you shit.

-Get it?
-So do you like this music, man?

-Yeah. It rocks.
- I think it's for posers.

-Well, I think you're a fag.
-Fag.

-Fuck you.
-Fuck yourself. You'll get more pussy.

If looking the way we did in Utah
was unusual,

in Wyoming, affectionately
called "The Cowboy State,"

we were fucking aliens.

What the hell are you?

We come from the east
in search of the Messiah.

We followed that big star.

Yeah, we bring gold
and frankincense.

-Myrrh.
-Myrrh.

-You do what?
-Followed the star.

Oh, my God. Who let you boys
out of the state institute?

We'd better get you boys
back in the hospital.

No, no, no. It's all right, man.

We're. We're.
We're from England.

-England?
-Yeah.

That's right. That's probably why
we seem so weird to you, man.

England, huh?

Well, that explains it, I guess.

You boys enjoying your stay here
in the good old U.S. of A.?

Oh, sure thing. It's a great land.

-What the hell is that?
-It's all right, Mother.

They're from England.

Oh, that figures, don't it?

What the hell did they do
to your hair?

My God, you look like
a goldurned Indian.

It was a medical experiment,
but he's gonna be okay.

You poor boy.

That's why there's so many
floods and earthquakes.

There is a curse on the land.

-The end is at hand.
-That's so true.

Excuse me, ma'am, but, you know,

there have been, like,
floods and earthquakes

since the beginning of time, dude.

That is so, but never have
so many of Satan's followers

been amassed on the Earth
as there are now.

And the Scripture states clearly

that Satan's followers
will be in the majority

and then God will raise his head

and fire will spew from his snout

and vengeance
will burn in his eyes.

You have not seen such fury
like the wrath of God.

So you guys have lots of devil
worshipers around these parts?

Oh, more than ever.
They bear the mark.

-Amen.
-Well, what about World War 11?

I mean, the Nazis were as good
as Satan's army

-and the world didn't end then.
-Yeah, dude. What about the Nazis?

I don't see Nazis
as devil worshipers.

Oh, you don't?

I see them more like
a gathering of people.

What? What did y--?

What's this about a mark? You guys
said something about a mark.

666, the mark will be on all of them.

The mark.

-Father!
-Oh, my God!

- I fear you, Father!
-Oh, my God!

-My Padre!
-Oh, my God.

Oh, shit.

-Go, go, go!
-Told you those boys were trouble.

Oh, shit.

The Wyoming folk--
Well, they were okay, I guess.

Just confused like the rest of us.

But Nazis always pissed us off.
There were a few Nazi punks in town.

Now, I don't know
what these guys wanted.

They had the shaved heads
and wore those stupid armbands.

Rebellion is one thing.
That I understood.

But there are some things
that are just sacred.

Not to mention that anarchy,

a system less society,
which is what I wanted,

no government, no rules.

Well, that was the complete opposite
of Nazi fascism.

So we kicked the shit out of
these kids every chance we could.

-Bitch!
-And that was that.

Hi, my name's Eddie.

You exist in a world of dreams, Bob.

You know, I was just sitting over there,
in that chair in the corner.

I didn't feel the particular urge
to talk to anybody

and then I saw you walk in.

You are like a treasure.
I have found a treasure.

Something came over me,

this unbelievable urge
to come over here and talk to you.

I am Aladdin and this is my lamp.

I wished for you and here you are.

-You"re like a poet, dude.
-No, it's you who are the poet.

Your face is like Ginsberg

or Wilde or even Hawthorne.

Great fucking party! Fuck, yeah!

What are you?

I'm an ant
staring up at a human being.

I wait with great intensity
to be squashed by you.

You wanna--?
Who the fuck threw that?

Great fucking party!

The fight. What does it mean

and where does it come from?
An essay.

Homo sapien. 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 a pit at a show, it is.

But when we fight for a reason,
like rednecks, there is a system.

We fight for what we stand for, chaos.
But 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 cheaper versions
of conventional warfare.

War implies extreme government

because wars are fought to
enforce rules or ideals, even freedom.

But other people's 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 I still don't understand it.

It goes against my beliefs as
a true anarchist, but there it was.

Competition, fighting, capitalism,
government, the system.

It's what we did,
what we always did.

Rednecks kicked the shit
out of punks. Punks, mods.

Mods, skinheads. Skinheads
took out the heavy-metal guys.

Heavy-metal guys beat
the shit out of new wavers

and the new wavers did nothing.
They were the new hippies.

What was the point?
Final summation?

None.

So I'll just close up
if you guys give me a second.

Dude, she's, like--
Like, responsible, you know?

She's a businesswoman.
Owns her own store.

She's making a contribution
to society.

Bob, she owns a head shop.
She sells bongs, Bob.

No, no, no. It's not what you sell.

Why do you gotta be so cynical?
Why don't you grow up?

You bitch.

-Hey, Mark.
-Hey. Great party last week.

-We aim to please.
-Animals. I've always loved animals.

It was a little violent at the end.

Violent? Look who's talking,
Mr. NRA.

What are you doing here?

Well, actually,
I came by to say I'm off.

-Where are you going?
-I'm going to Miami.

-What the hell is in Miami?
-Hell is in Miami.

Don't worry, I'll be back.
You can always count on that.

Why would you ever come back
to a place like this, man?

It's like any other place, Bob.
People, houses, roads, cars.

What else do you think is out there?

-Freedom.
-Yeah.

Freedom.

It's not out there.

Freedom is another way
of saying death.

You know what I mean?

You're pretty fucking weird, man.
You know that?

-I'm off.
-All right, man. See you.

Hey, Mark, if you ever get lonely

or if you ever need someone
to talk to,

Bob's there for you.

Hey, Stevo.

Fuck you.

That was the last
we saw of Mark.

Never came back from Florida,
if that's where he was going.

Rumor flew around

that he had died in a plane crash
like he was supposed to years ago.

Anyways, that was Salt Lake.
People came in and they went out.

-Oh, no. Fuck you.
-Fuck you.

So, Trish, are we hanging out later?

I'll tell you what, Bob.
You're coming with me.

- I am??
-That's right.

-I own you now.
-Oh, yeah. That's right.

I forgot to tell you.
I sold myself to Trish for 36 bucks.

Thirty-six bucks?
Wow, Trish, that's a good deal.

Salt Lake City.

Land of the dead sea.

Zion, as the Mormons call it.
It really is the Holy Land.

See you, Stevo.

You can't afford me, old man.

-How are things going these days?
-Not so bad.

-How are the ladies treating you?
-The ladies?

I tell you, the women in this town
are so miserable.

I'd give anything to get the hell out.

You know, you gave up a good thing
in my mother, sir.

Maybe so.

So, good news.

The world is coming to its end?

-Better.
-Shit.

Better than that?
The people are revolting.

-You...
-Yeah?

...have been invited
to attend Harvard Law School.

Yeah.

Dad, you and I really gotta work
on your definition of "good news."

Steven, this is great news.
You've already gone through prelaw.

Why not finish the process,
and in the best possible way?

That's so funny,
because, gosh, Father,

don't even remember
applying to Harvard Law.

- I applied for you.
-You mean you signed my name?

-Yeah.
-Hey, congratulations, old man.

Hope you enjoy your second tour
of Harvard Law School.

Steven. What, are you gonna
walk around like this forever?

You went to school, you got
great grades, and what else is there?

I cheated, Dad.
I cheated all through college.

Oh, that's right.
Yeah, you cheated. But why?

You obviously cared enough
about your grades to do well.

See, I know you, Steve.
You're just like me.

I'm like you maybe,
but not completely.

Then why prelaw?

Why not liberal science?
Why go at all?

I studied law
because I wanted to learn

how completely full of shit
your life's ambition was.

That's crazy, you know that.

You know what I think it is?
I think you've become a fascist.

-A fascist?
-You're a Nazi.

Nazi. I'm Jewish.
How can I be a Nazi?

That's the worst. Dad, look at this.
What kind of car is this?

This would be a Porsche.

A Porsche that you bought
at a Volkswagen dealership.

Volkswagen.

You know, right?
For the people. Who designed it?

Who made that possible?
Let me give you a hint. Adolf Hitler.

-It's just a car, okay?
-Yeah, absolutely.

I completely understand that point.

But it's a car that was built,
designed and created

on the blood and pain
of your people.

-Let me take you to lunch.
-Okay.

Hang on.

My dad wasn't all bad.
He just, you know, had no clue.

I liked to bust his balls.

What pissed me off, though,
was he was right about one thing.

Why'd I do so well in school?
I didn't want to.

I mean, I tried not to give a shit.
I knew it was all bullshit

and they were just trying to mold me
into cannon fodder for their wars.

And I knew
that meaning lie elsewhere.

But somehow [ studied,
and somehow I got the grades

and now somehow I was accepted
to a fucking Ivy [League school.

Last place on the planet
for a guy like me.

I mean, I wouldn't go there
unless it was to set it on fire.

Hey, what are you staring at?
Did you get a good picture?

There was this issue of
a lifelong struggle with poverty

which was beginning
to cause reflection

after I ran into someone
from my past a few days earlier.

You guys wouldn't happen to have
a dollar or a little something?

Yeah, I got something.

Oh, shit. Sean.

-Yeah?
-Hey, it's me, Stevo.

-Bob.
-No, Stevo.

Stevo. How you doing, man?

There you go. You have
no idea who I am, do you?

Remember?
High school. Mohawk.

Yeah, you had the fucking mohawk.

-Yeah. Punk.
-How you doing?

Good. How are you doing?

-I heard they put you away.
-But they let me out. I'm a free man.

Oh, hey, this is Sandy.

Sandy, this is Sean.
Sean, this is Sandy.

-Hi.
-Hi.

-Nice to meet you.
-Likewise.

So, what you been
doing with yourself, man?

Oh, man, I'm a fucking beggar now.
It fucking sucks.

-Wow, you should get a job.
- I tried that.

I fucking tried that. Okay?

-Hey!
- I gotta go.

-Can I help you?
-Yeah, I called about the job.

-You called?
-Yeah, I wanna sell clothes.

Women's clothes.

I don't know.
Have you had experience?

-With what?
-Women's clothes.

What the fuck would I be doing
in women's clothes?

What do I look like, a transvestite?
I'm not no fucking transvestite.

No, no, no. I mean,
have you ever worked in retail?

You know, selling clothes.

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 bad attitude, lady.
In fact, I don't even want your job.

I don't care how much you'd pay me
because I got integrity.

In-fucking-tegrity!

It's like impossible. It really is.
It's like the hardest thing.

-There's nothing out there for me.
-That's really tough.

And I'm a bum now.
That's what I do.

-Here, man.
-Oh, hey.

Thanks.

-What about your parents?
-My parents?

Oh, you mean my mom.
My mom is scared of me.

She won't even let me in the house.
It's not like

I killed anybody
or hurt anybody, you know.

-It's just, you know, she's scared.
-Yeah.

Hey, you know what?
We gotta get out of here.

I couldn't even look at the guy.
I felt a pain in my stomach.

Take it easy.

I didn't like it so I turned my back,
just like everybody else.

-I'll see you guys in the rebound.
-On the rebound.

Right. On the rebound. On the fuck--
On the fucking re--

It really fucked me up.
Not Sean, but turning my back.

Ignoring the truth.

So what did I do? I dropped acid
with Sandy in Highland Park

as to further ignore the truth.

This shit is good. I got it from Trish.
Trish got it from Mark.

That's a weird couple,
Bob and Trish.

-Do you think they're in love?
-Don't know.

I'll have to ask him that.

-It's weird.
-What's that?

The park is so dead.

-This town is dead.
-It's what?

It's dead. Dead, dead, dead.

-Maybe we're dead.
-Wouldn't that be nice?

That's the canyon
where the devil worshipers go.

You wanna check it out?

Look at the colors.

You know, before the--
You know, before the--

Before the Mormons
settled this valley

this is where
the Donner Party came through.

-Cannibals?
-Yeah, the cannibals.

Two families. Two families.

The head of the one family was right.
He said, "We should go south.

We shouldn't go over the mountains.

We should go down around
the Sierras and get to California.”

But they got in this fight,
and this guy

ended up killing one of the members
of the Donner Party.

There was a raging battle.

They kicked him out. Outcast.
By himself, alone in the wilderness.

He did it. He went south, around
the Sierras to California by himself.

Alone in the wilderness,
to be by himself.

It was actually him. That guy.
That guy came back

and he saved
the Donner Party's ass

when they got snowed in.

Stevo! Come here.

Help me. I'm dying.

Feel me. Look. I'm--
All right? I'm just right here.

I'm right here. Feel, all right?
Do you feel me? That's it.

They just threw him out
for him to die.

They threw him out while they're
sitting there eating themselves--

I can see everything!

What the fuck is happening to me?

-No, I'm not.
-Yes, you're dying.

Why are you always dying?
Why is everyone dying?

I think the world will really end.

-Why do you say that?
-There's no place else for it to go.

You're right.
But when's it gonna end?

-That I can't tell you.
-No, that you must tell me.

I can't.

Come on, little kooky surprise.
Come with us!

-Please tell me.
- I can show you.

-See it? It's beautiful, right?
-As beautiful as it can be.

I guess. Beautiful like you.

You wanna see
something else beautiful?

Sure.

Beauty's the end, Stevo. The end.

The question lingered in my mind
about Bob and Trish.

Were they in love?
So I thought I'd just ask outright.

-You guys in love?
-Who?

-You and Trish.
- I don't know.

- I have to think about that.
-It's not really a thinking question.

Well, you know, I...

I worship her and all.
She's like a goddess, you know.

If she died, I'd die.

If she told me to cut off my left arm,
I'd probably do it.

If she told me to lick a cop's asshole,
I'd probably do it.

-All right, all right, I get it.
-30, yeah, I guess I love Trish.

It's weird, man.
I never thought I'd fall in love.

Yeah, I was just wondering.

-Always thought you were a poser.
-Why am I a poser?

You fell in love with a girl.

Only posers fall in love,
SO you're a poser.

-All right, fine. I guess I'm a poser.
-That's what I said. You're a poser.

Bob. I don't really think
you're a poser.

- I was just busting on you.
-No, I know, I know.

I didn't think you thought I was.

Where were we going?
I mean, really, what was happening?

This life, it was crazy.
And I felt tired.

Halfway through the season,
I just felt inside I was so tired

and I had this wave of melancholy

just, like, sweep through me
and this impending sense

that my philosophies, anarchy,
was falling apart.

What do you do when your
foundation falls apart? I don't know.

They don't teach you that in school.

Then there was this party at Chris's.

Chris lived on the outskirts of town
in suburbia, surrounded by Mormons.

His house was like a commune.
I told you about Chris earlier.

At that first party
he had that sister Jennifer, red hair.

Remember her?
Really sexy-like, carnivore.

You remember, right? This is Jen.

-Stevo. Stevo, how you doing?
-Good. How you doing?

Great. Great. I'm really doing--
I'm really doing well. Really.

-God, what are you on tonight?
-Nothing. That's exactly my point.

I stopped taking my medications
and everything just--

It feels so much better.

Chris told me to stop taking them
because then I would believe in God

and that, like, I would dissolve.

And so I stopped
because I'm really superstitious.

Everything is so much clearer
right now.

-Seriously. So pure, you know?
-Right.

This is Jen,
looking a lot like Ophelia tonight.

So Chris's house was kind of like
a commune. All the regulars were there.

Freaky Deaky,
Bob was hanging out with Trish.

Then there was Mike. He was quiet
all night, just sat in the corner.

The whole party was weird.
This vibe was going on. Strange night.

Stevo, I see things clearly,
like my brother sees them.

-Where's your brother?
-He's downstairs just talking.

They talk all the time
and it's so lame--

-Right. I wanna go talk.
-No, no, no.

Hey.

It's Stevo.

Hey, Chris. Definitely a hippie.

There you-- There you go.

I can't tell you how good it is
to see you.

-Yeah, it's good to see you, Chris.
-My heart has been so heavy, Stevo.

That's a mighty nice hookah.

Yeah, I've been trying to get stoned,
but it won't happen.

I've been smoking since I was born.

Why'd you tell Jennifer
to get off her medication?

You know she completely is out of her
mind when she's off her medication.

Isn't she beautiful?
I mean, have you seen her gown?

That's my sister.
She's not a lithium Barbie doll.

-She needs to be who she is.
-Yes.

And she should be who she is.

-But who she is--
-Is evaporating.

Well, I don't think she really knows
who she is.

I think we're starting to talk
about pain here, Stevo.

A human being
must go through pain.

-What is Jones doing?
-Satanic bible.

I'm gonna prove there's no Satan.
He doesn't exist!

He's going to try to summon the beast
tonight at midnight

and he isn't going to come.
When he doesn't come

Jones will have proved
that science is the only truth.

-Have you met my other sister?
-There's a lightning storm coming.

I need to get a picture of it.
Hi, Stevo.

-That's my sister.
-Your whole family is a little strange.

Yes, but we are strange.

-Let's speak of anarchy.
-Yeah.

So we started our debate.
This was our custom.

He believed in structure,
I believed in chaos.

It was an ongoing fight.
He seemed to be winning.

Parties are like this in Salt Lake
for us punks.

The days would pass.
There would be a party

and then a fight,
then another day.

This was the cycle.
It was getting old, though.

I was feeling old.

Anyway, it was a weird night.

The school of science says the world
moves from order to disorder. Chaos.

They're fools, Stevo.

I mean, you know, life goes
from order to disorder to order.

Atoms come together randomly
to form a structure.

-An infant is born--
-A child, yeah.

A child, exactly. It grows,
it gets older, it dies, it decomposes...

-Exactly.
-...back to the ground and into chaos.

-Nothing. Exactly. Anarchy.
-Right--

But then those atoms
are reformed into something else.

A blade of grass, a tree,
a flower, whatever.

-The cycle, man.
- I got it.

Stevo.

The cycle, man.

Yeah, I get you. The cycle.

The time is now. I'm gonna go out
and I'm gonna prove

that all your faith and
all your prayers are unfounded!

You coming?

-Is he serious?
-He's always serious, Stevo.

I'm gonna go watch.
I'll see you later.

- I treasure these talks, Stevo.
-Not as much as I do.

We've got science to celebrate
and demons to dispel.

Off your butt, Pippy. Come on!

We're gonna go show that science
is the only truth.

-Hey, dude. I think we're gonna cut.
-This makes me uncomfortable.

He shouldn't be playing
with something he doesn't know.

I don't blame you. I'll get a ride home
with Sandy. Have you guys seen her?

- I saw her in the back earlier.
-So did I.

-All right, I'll see you later.
-Okay.

What?

What? What do you want?

It wasn't that I loved Sandy.
I knew that we had an understanding.

I discovered then
that Chris was right.

All things had systems, even me.

I was about to
beat the 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,
nature was order

and order is the system.

Stevo! Stevo!

-Shut the fuck up!
-Stop it! Stop it!

Stop it.

Get off me! Get the fuck off me!

You're such a fucking pussy.
What the fuck did you do that for?

Fuck you.

In the name of Satan,
ruler of the Earth

and king of the underworld,

I command the forces of darkness
to dispel their infernal...

Jones didn't need to prove
the devil did not exist,

not as a supernatural being,
because I had seen the devil.

He was in that room with Sandy.

He was me, he was Harvard,

he was my mom and dad,
he was all of us.

Jones was just making
all of this up anyway, so who cared?

"Fuck them," I thought.
"Fuck him, fuck this party

and fuck everything.

Above all, fuck anarchy."

I don't know.
We were, like, just kicking it,

smoking cigarettes.

And Trish had, like,
candy corn, dude, and...

We were just watching birds
and I was thinking.

I just started thinking,

you know, Salt Lake
ain't that bad, you know?

You know what I'm saying?

No, I mean, I know it sucks and all

but, you know, this is, like--
This is, like, home, you know?

Dude, what the fuck
are you talking about?

All I'm saying is that,
you know, if you think about it,

no matter where you go,
you gotta have a home.

And Salt Lake is,
like, you know-- It's home.

This place is never
gonna be my home.

-No, I'm just saying--
-You said what you were gonna say.

Get it? Now you fucking listen
to what I'm gonna say.

Look at this fucking place, all right?
It's a shithole!

Look out there, Bob,
and tell me what you see. Nothing.

Nothing piled upon fucking nothing.

It's like fucking Jesus Christ
took a shit and it landed right here.

So you can be happy
all you fucking want. All right?

See, I used to think we were alike,
we were similar.

We had something together, like this.

You know what I mean? We thought
alike, we felt the same way.

But you...

Fuck you.

Grow up, Bobby. All right?
Look around and grow up.

Because I swear to God, man,
I'll fucking write you off like that.

Fucking...

This is your home?
You know what? Fuck your home.

And this city was still the same.
Just look at it.

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.

I mean, look at this thing,
this temple.

When I was 7 and we moved here,

my mom and dad told me
this was Disneyland.

Rightfully so. Been living with Mickey,
Donald, Daffy, the whole crew since.

And now Mike, a good friend of mine,
was getting out.

What?

I'm leaving.
I'm going to Notre Dame.

-Mike, how could you do that?
-I'm 18. I gotta go to college.

Mike, I'm gonna miss you, man.

It's gonna suck around here
without you.

-What's your major gonna be, dude?
-Botany.

-What's that?
-Plants.

-You're gonna study plants?
-I wanna save the rain forests,

you know?
Somebody's gotta fight for them.

You believe this guy?
He's going off to save the plants.

This guy, he was one of the most
hard-core sons of bitches I ever met

and he's going off
to save the plants.

I mean.

I remember this time,
he was drunk

and he got the idea in his head
that all the cars on his block

would look better without windows.

Get down, bitch!

He took them all on, all of them.
They needed to call backup.

Finally they got him
in the back of a squad car.

The cops thought
he was on angel dust.

"The only way he could do it."
Not so. Just-- That was just Mike.

He broke those goddamn handcuffs,

kicked the window
out of the squad car, drunk.

That's it. Never got caught either.
Story was all over the papers.

It took weeks for us to get him to
admit that it was him that had done it.

Now he's going off to hug a tree.

I kind of knew it was the end.

All that was left was Bob and me.
Me and Bob. First two punks.

Last two punks.

Then again, I was getting
the impression I was all that was left.

Bob was in love.

Stevo, I wanna introduce you
to a young friend of mine.

I think you'd like her.

Yeah? Why do you think that?

I don't know.

She's smart

and she's ambitious.

-I'm not ambitious.
-Not yet, dude.

Stevo.

I love you, Bob loves you.

-What's the matter?
-Nothing.

Nothing's the matter.
I'm right as rain.

Dude, why are you always
depressed all the time?

I'm not depressed.

I think Sandy really got you.

No.

You know, dude, it's no big deal.

I'm, like-- You're like my brother
and I love you and all.

But what that fucking bitch did,
you should fucking kill her.

No, she had the right.

She had the right.
It was the agreement.

Just, you know...

should've been more careful.

-Stevo's got a big heart.
- I don't have a big heart, Trish.

I have a heart the size of a pea.

It's okay, though.
I mean, you guys are--

You guys are happy. That's okay.

Please, just don't pity me.

I get off on pain. Hey, Bob,
tell her I get off on pain, please.

Yeah, he does, you know.

I've mellowed out a lot,
but Stevo's fucking hard-core.

Hard-core or not,
I think he should meet Brandy.

She's having a party
at her parents' next week.

Yeah, she's a rich girl, dude.

That's okay.

I'm a rich boy, right?

Yeah, but, I mean,
you're a cool rich boy.

I don't know about that
anymore but...

Brandy. That sounds kind of fun.

Yeah?

See?

Nothing.

Miles of nothing. Just space.

You could fall in
and never come out.

So it came to this.

A blind date, my first.

What the hell? I didn't wanna let
them down. They were good people.

The thing was, I didn't need a date.
I needed an answer.

The year was a waste, all right,

but not the kind of waste
I was looking for.

Not a glorious wastefulness filled
with parties and fights and good sex.

No.

Instead...

it was more like the waste.

The waste that is the salt flats.

What are we doing here?

It's his birthday, dude.

Oh, yeah?

How old is he?

I don't know.

I don't think he knows.

He's old, though. I know that.

You wanna look presentable
for your old man.

Aren't you gonna wake him up?

I don't know. What do you think?

I don't know, man. It's your dad.

Yeah, I know. It's just, you know,
he's kind of crazy sometimes.

What do you mean by crazy?

Well, I mean, like, you know, he thinks
the CIA's after him and stuff.

What the hell do you want?

-Hey. Dad, it's me.
-What do you want with me?

It's Bob.

Your son. Happy birthday.

How do you know it's my birthday?

You people know everything.

What the hell do you want?
I don't know anything.

Now you're in trouble.
This is my house, you dummies.

I was born here. I'm an American!
This is my piece of the pie.

I don't give a shit who sent you.

I'm gonna blow
your goddamn heads off.

Next time, you'd better
bring back the army.

Goddamn CIA.

In all those years,
! had never met Bob's dad

but I suddenly felt
I knew my friend a lot better.

I felt bad for him.
I didn't like that feeling.

He's kind of a lunatic, you know?

Yeah, I'll say.

Sorry.

Don't-- Don't be.

It's not your fault.

You're my friend, that's all.

I'm sorry.

It was the last party of my youth
and I was to meet Brandy.

I'm gonna say it, people. Brandy
was the woman I was gonna marry.

I didn't know it then.
Didn't even know what she was like.

Hell, I wasn't even sure if I was gay,
asexual, or a punk, or a mod,

my dad, Bob, Sean the beggar.

I didn't know
a goddamn thing that night.

If I knew what was ahead of me,
I may have stayed in bed

or I may have felt better
about that night. Who knows?

Life is like that.
We change, that's all.

You see, the guy I am now
was 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.

But still, I lied awake.

Was I afraid?

Was I angry?

Or was it just the end?

Was it just the end and I knew it?

Stevo, this is Brandy.

Come on in, you guys.
Drinks in the back.

It was the hardest punch I ever took.
Knocked the wind right out of me.

I was hers. That was it. One smile.

We got acquainted
as the party raged around us.

I have to ask you something.

Yeah, go ahead. Ask me.

Well, why do you go out of your way
to look like a bum?

- I look like a bum?
-Well, not in a bad way.

-I mean--
- I look like a bum in a good way.

Aren't you, like,
rebelling against society?

-Put that simply, kind of, yeah.
-Hey, Brandy. What's going on?

-What are you doing with this fucker?
-Just talking.

-Shit.
-See you later.

You were saying something
about the way I looked.

Wouldn't it be more
of an act of rebellion

if you didn't spend so much time
buying blue hair dye

and going out
to get punky clothes?

It seems so petty.

Stop me if I'm being offensive.

Oh, no, go right ahead.
It's-- No, it's fine.

You wanna be an individual, right?

You look like you're wearing a uniform.
I mean, you look like a punk.

That's not rebellion, that's fashion.

-Then what's rebellion?
-Rebellion happens in the mind.

You can't create it,
you just are that way.

Right.

How old are you?

I'm 19. What does that
have to do with anything?

Nothing. I was just, you know--
I was just wondering.

What you're basically saying

is that you wouldn't like a guy
like me because I have...

You know, I have silly hair
and I dress kind of funny, right?

No, not at all.

I like you, actually.

I mean, we just met.

This is my party
and I'm hanging out with you all night.

I mean, wear what you want.
I don't care about things like that.

I was just posing a theory

and trying to understand.

So...

then you do like me.

Mildly.

What was I doing?
What, was I an asshole?

I was in love
and I just met this person.

I hated her ideas
because they were critical of me

but I loved her anyway.

It was a curse.
No, it was a punishment.

I went with it
and we talked all night.

You okay?

I got a headache.

I gotta go to the bathroom.

-Bob! How goes it?
-What's going on?

- I got a fucking headache.
- I have some pills for that.

This fucking music.
No, I don't take pills, dude.

-It's candy.
-They're just vitamins. Here you are.

Headache in a bottle?

-What'd you do?
- I don't like the mirror.

-What happened?
- I don't like fucking mirrors! All right?

-You're drunk, Bob.
-I'm sorry.

What did he do?

He just-- He gets crazy
when he's drunk, that's all.

-Okay, everybody out.
-That's it. Party's over.

Out, out, out.

I'm sorry about that window.
I didn't mean to--

You know what,
I'll buy you a new one.

-No, I'll tell them it was an accident.
-It's seven years bad luck.

No, it's seven years bad luck.
It's seven years bad luck!

All right, I'll take him home.
I'll get him out of here. Let's go.

-Where are we going?
-Come up here. Let's go.

All right, you guys.
Everything's cool.

-Hey, can I call you tomorrow?
-No.

I mean, yeah. That'd be cool.

-Yeah, okay. Good.
-Okay.

Sorry. I had a great time tonight.
I really did.

Me too.

-Great time. It was a good party.
-Yeah.

How you feeling, buddy?

Dude, I'm not like my dad,
you know.

I'm not gonna cry, dude.
You know what I mean?

Fine. Don't cry.

You think I let him down?

-Think I let my dad down?
-No.

If anything, I think he let you down.

I wanna marry Trish.

-I'm serious, dude.
-Yeah, all right. Yeah.

Come on! Jesus Christ.

Come on. I swear to God, you're
like a high school girl. Come on.

Jesus Christ.

Good night, asshole.

Oh, Jesus Christ.
Hey, Bobby, get up.

Get up. It's, like, 3:00.
Let's get something to eat.

Oh, fuck.

God.

Fucking poser.

Only posers die, you fucking idiot!

Now what am I gonna do
for a friend?

You're my only friend!

Please wake up now!

Please! I'm sorry!

Oh, fuck.

Oh, man. Oh, jeez.

Oh, my God.

I wasn't ready for this.

I wasn't ready.

And we put him under the ground.

The official cause of death?

Overdose from Percodan.

That's what John's girlfriend
gave him for his headache.

That, mixed with the booze,
did him in.

Heroin Bob, the guy who never did
any drug in his life outside of beer

died from a narcotic overdose.

And that was it.

He fell

and I went on.

What else was I gonna do?

You know, Bob got me into this whole
punk-fashion-anarchy trip

in the first place.

It hit me after the funeral.
It was always Bob.

Started way back when we were Kids,
maybe 14.

We were such losers back then.

Those guys that sat alone
in the cafeteria

getting shit from the jocks,

wishing to God they could be cool
for just, like, one minute.

And then one day
Bob had had enough.

Being a dweeb was not
what he had in mind for our future.

-Hey, Bob. You're early.
-Dad was flipping out. I had to get out.

Mike and Eddie are coming
so it should be a good game.

- I have this really good dungeon.
-You know, Stevo,

this D&D shit, it sucks.

-What'd you say?
- I said it sucks.

But you're a seventh-level magic user.
What do you have to complain about?

Things are going great
for your character.

Stevo, it's bullshit, though.
"Magic user." What the hell's that?

These elves and dwarves
and dragons, man.

-This music--
-Rush is a very good band.

Their music is very complex,
and the perfection...

I'm not saying they're not talented
and all, and yeah, they rock

but it's not the only music
out there.

-I've got a John Denver record.
-I'm serious.

Anyway, I like them.
You know, they rock, man.

There's a whole world out there.
People are having fun.

We should be
going to parties, dude,

and getting drunk and getting laid
and being wild, you know?

The last time we went to a party,
we got our asses kicked.

Well, maybe we should have
our own parties.

Just give me a chance.

-How about we turn this off--?
-Don't touch my stereo, Bob.

Give it a chance. Give me a chance.

- I got this from a guy I know in L.A.
-You know a guy in L.A.?

You tell me if this doesn't rock.

-This isn't anything.
-Just give it a chance.

Well, what is it?

-What is it?
-Yeah, what is it, Bob?

It's new.

Okay.

And so there I was.

I was gonna go to Harvard.
It was obvious.

I was gonna be a lawyer
and play in the goddamn 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.

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 troublemaker 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.

I could 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
if you're already thinking it.

I guess, when all was said and done,

I was nothing more than
a goddamn trendy-ass poser.