Rethink, Reexamine, Reevaluate, Reconsider, Reassess, Reneg, Now


My dear and cherished friend, I think you’re missing the point.

You point out that many other sub cultures such as Teddy boys, Hells Angels Skinheads, Hippies etc. have stood up to the establishment. This may be true, particularly in the case of Hippies and Beatniks, although the manner of their approach to the problem differed greatly. Goatees, duffel coats and badges didn’t ruffle too many feathers and hippies ‘all you need is love’ attitude, whilst morally and ethically commendable was too easy to ignore. Hells Angels didn’t seek anything other than their own isolation, they did not wish to change anything, they just wanted to live according to their own terms isolated and apart from mainstream society – who can blame them? Teddy boys, Mods, Skinheads, Soul Boys and pretty much every other youth cult were really just about the clothes and music and precious little else, and all looked identical, especially Skinheads who were all just mindless carbon copies of each other. The same can be said of that second echelon of punks that really were just formulaic, fad following, soap dodging, mohicaned imbeciles in cheap tartan trousers with lots of zips and the ubiquitous leather jacket, vastly different from the first wave of punks.

The true Punk phenomenon set out to question and challenge in a manner similar to Hippies, however what sets them apart was the omnipresent anger of punk as opposed to the passive aggressive flower waving that was inherent in the hippie cult. It is true, to a great extent, that punk was an aggressive and angry manifestation of the Hippie phenomenon. Plan A failed and turned into a Laura Ashley Holly Hobby secretarial blob managing only to be ignored and mocked.

Time to roll out Plan B. Good cop, Bad cop…

It appears that your argument is really a financial one, as though the end justifies the means.  Do you believe that money conquers all, and everything should be about the almighty dollar?  The fact that clothing manufacturers lack originality and fail to stand out from the mainstream and that all they can do is produce carbon copies from past epochs, a bit sad and pathetic, but ultimately is immaterial.


Horrible Cunt Philip Greed licks his lips as he eagerly eyes up a rupee that has fallen from the pocket of a one eyed crippled child machinist in one of his favourite sweat shop hovels – Finders Keepers

Incidentally, these manufacturers that you cite who manufacture these cheap mass productions providing what you call a public service do so at the huge expense of sweat shop labour and worse.  Profit is their sole motivation, stack it high and sell it cheap and fuck everything except the bottom line on their spreadsheet.

If these abused sweat shop labourers, who are forced to work like slaves for a few red cents a day, who live in abject squalor and horror, who are bereft of any shred of dignity, of security or quality of life, were adequately paid, they could eke out more than a subsistence level existence. There is no danger of them moving forward economically, or of getting an education or improving their hopeless lot in life. They are simply indentured slaves, no more, no less and our neo-feudal capitalist greed based society has every intention of keeping it like that so that the maximum advantage can be taken, Fuck human rights, fuck their existence.


Philip Greed out at London Fashion Week yesterday

Meanwhile odious cunts like that repulsive Philip Fucking Greed waddles around his floating palace, lasciviously licking his greasy lips and throwing the ex-employees child labourers he just finished sodomizing to the sharks as he and his guests enjoy the feeding frenzy.


HMS TopCunt, the tasteless tub of Philip “Pugwash” Greed and his gristle faced sow

There would be a lot less need for charity if obscene scumbags like him and his ilk paid taxes and decent wages. I don’t think there’s too much danger of that though, do you? How many starving mouths would the £1/2 Billion he nicked and the £100Million the cunt lavished on his 3rd yacht feed, what about Little Lord Fauntleroy of Westminster and the £4Billion he managed to ‘legally’ steal, the list goes on and on…    a fuck of a lot more than burning these clothes might deprive.


A rare pair of Belching Dead Eyed Bloodsucking Dwarf Toads, the leatherfaced female is equally toxic, hopefully soon to be an endangered species

The potency of that energy that sought to turn over tables in the temples and set the cat among the complacent pigeons who had grown comfortable in their pecking order. Authority unchallenged enjoyed the unquestioning obedience of a dull witted and stultified society. With every fibre of its miserable being the establishment loathed and despised the phenomenon that was punk doing everything in its power to crush the spirit and spark of rebellion. Such dissidence was not going to be tolerated.

Yes, aggressive dynamism was inherent in the punk attitude. Fight fire with fire. There was absolutely no room for nostalgia in Punk it sought to destroy Nostalgia, there should be none now. The only reason for this whole shambles of a 40th anniversary is a futile distraction. There is no royal wedding or baby so those opiate serving idiots needed a diversion to make sure you didn’t look at the mountainous pile of shit under the carpet, the crumbling walls, and the massive hole in the roof. A different flavour opiate, this seasons fashionable tranquilizer and subjugator of the masses. A dazzling headlight for the little bunnies to look into just in case they try to think for themselves and question austerity and poverty and threaten the cozy little coven.


Sweaty dead eyed Professional Baby Frightener Lady Leatherface Greed proving that you cant get too much of a good thing, even if its collagen and enough botox to kill all of China.

In addition to scaring children she is excellent at choosing furnishing fabrics for Fill “Yapockets” Greed fleet of 3 yachts and his 2 private jets and helicopters and…

Incidentally you make no comment about the likes of Vuitton, Hermes and their ilk that burn every last thing on their shelves rather than let it fall into the hands of the untouchables.

What it is that is offensive is when uber-expensive uber-luxury brands like Louis Vuitton etc who cater exclusively to the uber-wealthy elite fawningly privatize and commoditize punk, creating a fancy dress farce completely annihilating integrity and producing nauseating imitations accessible only to the noble elect. The ‘designers’ have no principles or integrity, producing a whim for the season. The people who purchase it equally have no integrity and simply buy it, reinforcing a distinction between the haves and have-nots and assuring elitism.


Backstage shenanigans and Kim Cocknose’s inspired and visionary Collection for Autumn / Winter ‘17 at Louis Vuitton’s Catwalk Show.

Next year their lowest common denominator ‘designers’ will be churning out Nazi uniforms to the rapturous applause of their cooing sycophant clotheshorse clientele. They wear whatever they are told to, without thought or principle, because that’s all they know how to do, and they have to do something, sometimes, or they couldnt run around in circles congratulating each other on their magnificent banality as they faithfully reproduce whatever those talent–free toadies at Conde Nast have gushingly proclaimed and ordained. These self-important doormats plunder their way through other peoples old ideas for their vapid ‘inspiration’ looting their way through their massive collection of past editions and back issues, duplicating  and reduplicating the same old shit year after year, ad nauseam, as they jostle for pole position amongst the fawning public anuses on the front row at the show.

What is value? What is valuable? Why are these clothes so desirable, so valuable, is it the fact that there are relatively few of them remaining and so their rarity gives them a value. Does that mean, like tigers, eventually we will hunt them down to the last survivor, the ultimate trophy hung on the ultimate frauds wall for bragging rights. Why are they of interest, why are they considered heirlooms of the nation, which suddenly feels all nostalgic about them after decades of hatred? Why do people think they can presume to tell someone what to do with their possessions? Why are they better than a copy that is, to all intents, identical? No one would give a fuck if someone burnt a pile of old, worn out M&S clothes. So what makes these so special? What is it in the physical goods themselves that a copy can’t provide?


A Senior supervisor looks forward to an extra cockroach in his gruel and a sip of meths for his fifth birthday as soon as that jeans order for TopCunt is finished

Equally the bottom end of the market the same sweat shops milked so lucratively by those at the top of the food chain are milked by the bottom feeders, the ‘on trend’ high street chains who churn out anything they can, commercialized attitude to be discarded and forgotten as soon as the next flavor of the month trolls in to town. Yes, even the penurious can pretend they’re special and they too can soar close to the sun…   like Icarus. At least they don’t make the pretense that they are some great designer, they are simply shoddy imitators and content to be insipid, mundane and jejune, they glide collectively, hand in hand, across the millpond. Someone should chuck a big fucking rock in that filthy, fetid, stagnant, weed choked millpond

The textile factory machines produce an intolerable degree of uproarious noise and piercing echoes at the working place of Sobuj (13 years old). Further suffering is endured from the excessive heat; a daily and miserable factor. Textile factory workers start their day at 8 AM and finish at 8 PM. During these working hours these children try to heal the pain of the noise and the heat by knowing that they will be rewarded with earnings of 1’200 taka per month (about US $15). Dhaka, Bangladesh

“Yessir Mr Vuitton Saab Sir please take all the skin from my back for a wallet and do you have a job for my 2year old sister, we have no money to buy food”

What gives them their power and significance is what they stood for. Like holy relics, that bit of bone is of huge significance because that bone represents what the beholder believes it represents. Do they serve as potent signifiers, vessels to carry the philosophy and integrity of rebellion? Surely they would have greater significance if the wearers had actually achieved what they set out to achieve. Or are they important because they signify defeat and failure. War trophies pulled from the cold dead hands of the defeated. Owning them as trophies disarms them.


Dame Vivienne Westwood

It’s not about what a few quid, even £5,000,000 can achieve for the needy. You are thinking in a myopic scale, it’s a diversion. Look beyond the microscope into the big picture. You jump up and down about £5million whilst we spend 100 times that on a daily basis on bombs to chuck at our current enemy in the permanent war that never gets won. World hunger, homelessness and disease could easily be resolved if there was the will to do so…  Greed is the problem.

The anger and discontent that was prevalent at the time is as powerful now in 2016 as then, 1976. The injustice, inequality and social divisions are worse now than ever. We have returned to feudal system, the banks are kings and the corporations their evil barons. The unrelenting, blood sucking greed of a minority of repugnant autocratic, oligarchic and aristocratic parasites, who throw crumbs to distract the scrambling masses, so they can decide which country to invade next, whose children to bomb, which mountain to tear down in search of seams of gold, which ocean to pour oil into as they recklessly pilot spaceship earth on a collision course with the sun.

Lets face it, Sid wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, the stance he took speaks volumes about our society and the sort of disrespect for humanity and life it engenders. Divide and conquer. The lack of respect for life, the malaise that prevails across society, is strongest at the top where the privileged prey. The self-entitled 1% who place themselves on a pedestal to piss on the peasants below.



Everything that was decent and worthy of the punk phenomenon has been pissed on and diluted, disarmed by feigned acceptance and patronizing tolerance. The rebellion was crushed, its potency subsumed by institutional recognition and approval of gurning baby kissing politicians with massive personal agendas. Any possibility of change through harnessing the hurricane has gone and there remains only a fart in a jar on a shelf in a warehouse.

And all this absolute bollocks about the nostalgia and quaintness of punk is as disgusting as it is disturbing.

And now they want to own our dignity and seize our icons, we shouldn’t limit the burning to a few old clothes and hand-me-downs, burn the whole fucking rotting quagmire that is our toxic society and start again.

Time to invoke the scorched earth policy, chuck the whole shower of cunts on the pile, light blue touch paper and retire.

Burn The Lot, Burn Everything, Burn Punk London.

Penny for the Guy, Guv?



Anyone got a fucking match?

This article is in response to A piece by Philip Sallon

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