-----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Disclaimer: In this essay, I explore the "punk" aspect of "Cypherpunk". I wish to provoke, but not disrespect. I am trying to learn and stir things up, and fend off a certain boredom and inertia that seems to set in when new ideas seem to be scarce, or worse, shunned. I am a fool throwing out ideas. You can learn a lot from a fool. Dedicated to Nikola Tesla and Buckminster Fuller. You ain't punks. Light rock and Muzak for you. Wouldn't want to upset an RFC standard. Oh no no, that would be FROWNED upon! We might loose our Netcom accounts. How can we download Wired and Mondo articles then? Are you crazy? Detweiler and Sternlight might narc on us, and get us in fearful trouble. We don't want trouble we just want to fit in and cruise for babes with our e-money and bOING bOING ties. Please send more e-postage; your remailer account's gone dry. You got a problem; the problem is YOU. -Sid Vicious/Sex Pistols When will all remailers forge mail headers so no one knows which site's sendmail logs to subpoena or hack into? Forge Message-ID's too. Forge everything. You can do it with postal mail, legally. When will every account be a remailer? The internet SUCKS. What's the flag for PGP to output its "random data block" format? Get off the internet. Message up, to satellite, from remailer, message down to the world. No one knows who's decrypting. And besides, "What encrypted message?" God doesn't give out His sendmail logs. Wires, you can't see them. You can't trust them. If you rely on technology for your security, stop using wires. And once your remailers ARE more secure, old Uncle Sam's comin' t' pull the plug, 'cause they know where to find that CPU. I'm comin' too. Sounds like fun. I wonder what sort of sexy pass phrase you're using. What's your address? I want to send you $1. Oh, here's the address in the Thomas Register. You're out a $1. * WWW - World Wide Wiretap * Get Off the Internet and Write Us a Real Encryptor. Get Off the Internet and Write Us a Real Encryptor. Oh glee, the net loonies are sending megajoules not megabytes. Real addresses not e-addresses. Can I still hit 'd' for "diffuse"? I can't see you; I can't touch you. I want privacy. I want real friends. I want off the internet. Get Off the Internet and Write Us a Real Encryptor. -=Xenon=- Dead Kennedys / Bedtime for Democracy and other works: @SONG: Anarchy for Sale Step right up folks Anarchy for sale! T-shirts only 10 dollars Badges only 3.50 I nicked the design, never asked the band I never listen to them either Buy buy buy from Circle A Like hula hoops, it's a disposable craze Another fast-food fad to throw away CHORUS Get your anarchy for sale Anarchy for sale Anarchy for sale Sheep unite! Get your cuddly boots and studs Be sure to rebel in proper style Rebel along the paths we pick Out of fear of peer pressure we create Hey you!- Get those flyers off my wall No commie peace shit in my boutique No one here cares what that all means CHORUS Our town sucks Our scene rules To belong you must buy into it So we sold you metal spike bracelets.... C'mon let's see a good fight CHORUS @SONG: Chickenshit Conformist Punk's not dead It just deserves to die When it becomes another stale cartoon A close-minded, self-centered social club Ideas don't matter, it's who you know If the music's gotten boring It's because of the people Who want everyone to sound the same Who drive bright people out Of our so-called scene 'Til all that's left Is just a meaningless fad Hardcore formulas are dogshit Change and caring are what's real Is this a state of mind Or just another label The joy and hope of an alternative Have become its own cliche A hairstyle's not a lifestyle Imagine Sid Vicious at 35 Who needs a scene Scared to love and to feel Judging everythng By loud fast rules appeal Who played last night? "I don't know, I forgot. But diving off the stage Was a lot of fun." CHORUS So eager to please Peer pressure decrees So eager to please Peer pressure decrees Make the same old mistakes Again and again, Chickenshit conformist Like your parents What's ripped us apart even more than drugs Are the thieves and the goddamn liars Flipping people off when they share their stuff When someone falls are there any friends? Harder core than thou for a year or two Then it's time to get a real job Others stay home, it's no fun to go out When the gigs are wrecked by gangs and thugs When the thugs form bands, look who gets record deals

From New York metal labels looking to scam Who sign the most racist queerbashing bands they can find To make a buck revving kids up for war

Walk tall, act small Only as tough as gang approval Unity is bullshit When it's under someone's fat boot Where's the common cause Too many factions Safely sulk in their shells Agree with us on everything Or we won't help with anythng That kind of attitude JUst makes a split grow wider Guess who's laughing while the world explodes When we're all crybabies Who fight best among ouselves CHORUS That farty old rock and roll attitude's back "It's competition, man, we wanna break big." Who needs friends when the money's good That's right, the '70s are back. Cock-rock metal's like a bad laxative It just don't move me, ya know? The music's OK when there's more ideas than solos Do we rally need the attitude too? Shedding thin skin too quickly As a fan it disappoints me Same old stupid sexist lyrics Or is Satan all you can think of? Crossover is just another word For lack of ideas Maybe what we need Are more trolls under the bridge Wil the metalheads finally learn something- Or will the punks throw away their education? No one's ever the best Once they believe their own press "Maturing" don't mean rehashing Mistakes of the past CHORUS The more things change The more they stay the same We can't grow When we won't criticize ourselves The '60s weren't all failure It's the '70s that stunk As the clock ticks we dig the same hole Music scenes ain't real life They won't get rid of the bomb Won't eliminate rape Or bring down the banks Any kind of real change Takes more time and work Than changing channels on a TV set CHORUS @SONG: Fleshdunce We're world industry's thoughtlords The entertainment wing We keep you all in line By fixing your free will Surround you with pop fantasies Just slightly out of reach To soften all the blows Of your forced daily routine We strip-mine your underground culture Take the bite out and rinse it clean Give ourselves credit for creating it Then sell it back to you At twice the price Our pool of talent vampires Has blown into your town To dazzle, sign and milk you All strictly on our own terms You think you've got a lot to say We'll change that real soon You're not a person anymore We've made you a cartoon By the time we're through remolding you You won't even recognize your face There's no end to the eager beavers Drawn the moths to our Babylon's mirage Conveyor belt of fleshdunce They all want to do the fleshdunce Conveyor belt of fleshdunce Who all want to do the fleshdance @SONG: Where Do Ya Draw the Line Seems like the more I think I know The more I find I don't Every answer opens up so many questions anarchy sounds good to me Then someone asks, "Who'd fix the sewers?" "Would the rednecks just play king Of the neighborhood?" How many liberators Really want to be dictators Every theory has its holes When real life steps in So how do we feed And make room for All the people crowded on our earth And transfer all that wealth

From the rich to those who need it

CHORUS Where do ya draw the line Where do ya draw the line I'm not telling you I'm asking you Ever notice hard line radicals Can go on start trips too Where no one's pure and right Except themselves "I'm cleansed of the system." ('Cept when my amp needs electric power) Or-"The Party Line says no. Feminists can't wear fishnets." You wanna help stop war? Well, we reject your application You crack too many jokes And you eat meat What better way to turn people off Than to twist ideas for change Into one more church That forgets we're all human beings Where do ya draw the line? In Toronto someone blew up A cruise missile warhead plant 10 slightly hurt, 4 million dollars damage Why not destroy private property When it's used against you and me Is that violence Or self-defence You tell me CHORUS Turn on Tune in Cop out @SONG: PULL MY STRINGS I'm tired of self-respect I can't afford a car I wanna be a prefab superstar I wanna be a tool Don't need no soul Wanna make big money Playing rock and roll I'll make my music boring I'll play my music slow I ain't no artist I'm a businessman No ideas of my own I won't offend Or rock the boat Just sex and drugs And rock and roll Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool (etc.) My payola! Drool, drool, drool, drool, drool (etc.) My payola! You'll pay ten bucks to see me On a fifteen foot high stage Fatass bouncers kick the shit Out of kids who try to dance If my friends say I''ve lost my guts I'll laugh and say That's rock and roll But there's just one problem... Is my cock big enough Is my brain small enough For you to make me a star Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far And when I'm rich And meet Bob Hope We'll shoot some golf And shoot some dope Is my cock big enough Is my brain small enough For you to make me a star Give me a toot, I'll sell you my soul Pull my strings and I'll go far @SONG: SHORT SONGS I love short songs. @SONG: Stealing People's Mail Words and Music by Biafra We ain't going to the party We ain't going to the game We ain't going to the disco Ain't gonna cruise down main We're stealing people's mail stealing people's mail stealing people's mail On a friday night Drivin' in the mountains Winding round and round Rummage thru your mailboxes Take your mail back to town And we got license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns Checks to politicians from real estate firms, Money, bills and cancelled checks, Pretty funny pictures of your kids We're stealing peopl's mail On a Friday night We're stealing people's mail By the pale moonlight We got grocery sackful after grocery sackful Grocery sackful after grocery sackful Grocery sackful after grocery sackful Of the private lives of you Ha Ha People say we're crazy We're sick and all alone But when we read your letters We're rolling on the floor We got more license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns Checks to politicians from real estate firms, Money, bills and cancelled checks We cut relationships with your friends We're gonna steal your mail By the pale moonlight We better not get caught We'll be drugged and shocked 'Til we come out born-again christians.... @SONG: NAZI PUNKS FUCK OFF Punk ain't no religious cult Punk means thinking for yourself You ain't hardcore cos you spike your hair When a jock still lives inside your head Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! If you've come to fight, get outa here You ain't no better than the bouncers We ain't trying to be police When you ape the cops it ain't anarchy Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! Ten guys jump one, what a man You fight each other, the police state wins Stab your backs when you trash our halls Trash a bank if you've got real balls You still think swastikas look cool The real nazis run your schools They're coaches, businessmen and cops In a real fourth reich you'll be the first to go Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! Nazi punks Nazi punks Nazi punks - Fuck Off! You'll be the first to go You'll be the first to go You'll be the first to go Unless you think... @SONG: TERMINAL PREPPIE I go to college That makes me so cool I live in a dorm And show off by the pool I join the right clubs Just to make an impression I block out thinking It won't get me ahead My ambition in life Is to look good on paper All I want is a slot In some big corporation John Belushi's my hero I Lampoon and ape him My news of the world Comes from Sports Illustrated I'm proud of my trophies Like my empty beer cans Stacked in rows up the wall To impress all my friends No, I'm not here to learn I just want to get drunk And major in business And be taught how to fuck Win! Win! I always play to win Wanna fit in like a cog In the faceless machine (chorus) I'm a terminal terminal terminal preppie Terminal terminal terminal preppie Terminal terminal terminal terminal Terminal terminal terminal terminal I want a wife with tits Who just smiles all the time In my centerfold world Filled with Springsteen and wine Some day I'll have power Some day I'll have boats A tract in some suburb With Thanksgivings to host (chorus) I'm a terminal terminal terminal preppie Terminal terminal terminal preppie Terminal terminal terminal preppie @SONG: I AM THE OWL I am your plumber No I never went away I still bug your bedrooms And pick up everything you say It can be a boring job To monitor all day your excess talk I hear when you're drinking And cheating on your lonely wife I play tape recordings Of you to my friends at night We've got our girl in bed with you You're on candid camera We just un-elected you (chorus) I am the owl I seek out the fowl Wipe 'em away Keep America free For clean livin' folks like me If you demonstrate Angainst somebody we like I'll slip on a wig And see if I can start a riot Transform you to an angry mob All your leaders go to jail for my job But we aren't the russians Political trials are taboo We've got our secret Ways of getting rid of you Fill you full of LSD Turn you loose on a freeway (chorus) Send you spinning Send you spinning Send you spinning all over the freeway Spinning on the crowded freeway Spinning on the freeway Spinning on the freeway Spin... Spin... Spin - Lookout The Press, they never even cared Why a youth leader walked into a speeding car In ten years we'll leek the truth By then it's only so much paper Watergate hurt But nothing really ever changed A teeny bit quieter But we still play our little games We still play our little games We still play our little games We still play our little games We still play a lot of games I am the owl (chorus) -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: 2.3 iQCVAgUBLVPbtQSzG6zrQn1RAQHIwAP/VW6tak/NGsOeHdD57Aj1NgsGaRkJaojQ R96d91Kdh7f9n0QQiC+l3FRb+utKB6Clf2EIjnWLbG1ZGesKpRLAaKaaL3lcwHrT 8yNGuVDk4nmCHzBbI/uC+z9U6qrY7HWwjSU6fq5Gd9EpirBtmFHO8AyZtF+ZgiZe xSL7rwOdJ4U= =lMsr -----END PGP SIGNATURE-----