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  1. Lone
    Latest Entry

    By Lone,

    Please help us welcome #RevRad Track 5 @AlissaGoesRAWR to the moderating team. She joined as a GDA Staff but we think she'll do awesome as a moderator. Give her all your praise.

  2. 4933457_orig.jpg

    It's Romantic Isn't It?


    Maria Gloria

    One of the many wonderful photographs by Maria Gloria. Take a moment to check out more of her photography and leave a comment


    Make a suggestion for next weeks MasterPiece of the week my sending BeachBum a pm.

  3. Aloha GDC brethren! :ga: 

    Tis time for me to start my my fundraising efforts for the 2016 Extra Life campaign! 

    To summarize, Extra Life is a charity event, in which you play video games for 24 hours to raise funds for the Children's Hospital of your choice. :) I play for the Children's Hospital of Denver, Colorado, as I know some kids who go there, including two kids I used to babysit who go there for diabetes check ups. I love doing volunteer work, and I love games, so this event is really a match made in heaven. <3

    Now, I know you might not want to donate your hard earned cash to someone you do not know, but be aware! There are rewards for doing so! This year - opposed to last year, I will be giving away one of my drawings to one lucky winner. It may be one of the ones I have listed below, another one that I have finished, or a custom piece! You'll be entered into the raffle automatically when you donate any amount to the link below. 

    :woot: http://www.extra-life.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&participantID=198196


    Thank you so much! 


    Fuck Donald Trump, A Love Letter



    Fuck Donald Trump. 

    I’ll be the millionth man to say it.

    I’ll say it once, 

    I’ll say it twice, 

    so you won’t need to replay it. 

    Fuck Donald Trump,

    your hair looks like a bleached skunk,

    and your face looks like the leather couch I sunk in to a minute ago

    but I hope you know your face isn’t the reason

    you ain’t winnin’ this race. 

    No, there’s far more there to ensure you lose your case.

    You chase Hillary around the stage like a dog 

    without a bone, why don’t you act like a grown man and stand down.


    You’ve lost. And at what cost, a bevy of hate and a loss

    of civility? At what point do we find the ability to see 

    through his vision of hell and in to tranquility? 

    He breathes hostility and possibly cocaine too,

    who knew being such a vain piece of shit

    required a quick fix, chicks don’t really love ya 

    cause you’re a fucking dick, so quit whining 

    that the game is rigged since your name 

    earned you more media spots than your policies 

    ever did. You played the game, now they’re trying to wash their hands of the stains

    you left behind. I’m sure you’ll find a new business to 

    bankrupt or another industry to corrupt when you 

    get torched in a few weeks. I hope I speak for most 

    of us when I say you’re a creep and I hope 

    you lose sleep like you lose elections. 


    Go fucking vote. 

  5. New lyrics. Enjoy.





    Holding on for the riots to come

    Holding on for the riots to come

    Holding on for the riots to come

    The destruction of all that you love


    Set the scene

    Migrants on the screen

    Oppression in full force?

    Dilapidated modern discourse


    Open your eyes

    You're permeating what you hate

    Of all the lies

    You spit damage upon their gate




    Frustration running high

    when it is normal to defy

    Punk and justice are too mainstream


    The "heroes" are bigoted

    Oh, pray for the intrepid

    You destroy your own


    (Chorus x2)


    Illustrate demands

    of social contrabands


    You say that you're the light

    but then you take delight


    in the suffering


    of those who don't agree with you.



  6. If I remember correctly, last year I created a list with my favorite tunes for autumn. Today in a bus ride I came up with the idea to create part II, including my favoirte tunes that caputre atumn mood

    Agalloch - ...and the Great Cold Death of the Earth (The Mantle, 2002)

    Blind Guardian - Harvest of Sorrow (A Night at the Opera Japanese Market Version, 2002 or Nightfall at Middle Earth Remastered 2007 (both times bonus track))

    Insomnium - Winter's Gate (Winter's Gate, 2016)

    Yue - In Legend (Ballads 'n' Bullets, 2011)

    Herbstleyd - Nargaroth (Herbstleyd, 1998)

    Alesia - Eluveitie (Helvetios, 2012)

    Wardruna - Helvegen (Runaljod - Yggdrasil, 2013)

    Wintersun - Death and the Healing (Wintersun, 2004)

    Blues Pills - Little Sun (Blues Pills, 2014)

    Tuomas Holopainen - The Last Sled (The Life and Times of Scrooge Mc Duck, 2014)

    Apocalypitca - Cohkka (Reflections Revised, 2003)

    Chelsea Wolfe - The Waves Have Come (Pain is Beauty, 2013)


  7. Trotsky
    Latest Entry

    This is the silence of a thousand insecurities,
    This is forgiveness, this is the end of guilt
    It seems that nothing could have been so unlikely,
    But this life is mine for what it is – it’s what I have built

    This is a vision that regrets can be irrelevant,
    This is a declaration of the conquest of fear
    I’ve heard from my worst critics and most persistent cynics
    But those were voices I created – they’re no longer here

    I spent so much energy listing all that’s wrong with me
    Now it’s time to shred it with the boxes uncrossed
    I won’t worry about falling short or dying in anonymity
    This is growth and not another perfect moment lost

  8. Comrade
    Latest Entry

    Something a little different. The last year or so, I've written to myself a lot. I've not done so much creative writing since around March, but I have had a dialogue with myself. It's a wa of highlighting the good things and processing the bad. I won't be sharing any of that stuff. It's for my eyes only. But it has informed my approach to things and encouraged me to articulate sensations, notions and generally pay attention to thoughts. This is one of those thoughts. 


    I Miss You 

    I think those three words are, as a trio, the most complex and meaningful we have in the English language. ‘I want you’ is up there - but to want is to be greedy. It's temporary and internal. To miss is to need. People will put their hands up for ‘I love you’ too, but personally, I think that ‘I miss you’ is more powerful and specific. 

    We all love a lot of things. Love has been hijacked by materialism and casualty. There is a day for it. The same is true for many deep concepts because we as a Western society fear emotional honesty and authenticity in many of our relationships, especially the less deep ones. 

    But ‘I miss you’ circumnavigates that. Let's just look at what it means. It is directive and specific. Love is an abstract concept with many meanings. To miss someone - anything - is to me so be reduced or lacking as a result of that person or thing's diminished presence. So saying ‘I miss you’ is admitting that you are less, or you are worse off, or things are just not as good as they could be with that person (we'll stick with people from here) actually being there. 

    That, to me, is beautiful.

    I have a complex relationship with the words ‘I miss you’. For the longest time in my life, I didn't hear those words too often. I didn't have many friends through school, so not many people missed  me. When I went to university I became a part of something. That's where I learned the meaning of those words. I became missed. I was told it every time I wasn't at a social event. I felt wanted and necessary, but it also fed my underlying lack of ego. Being missed - being wanted and loved - made me hubristic. That's the dark side of ‘I miss you’. If too many people say it, it becomes depersonalised and expecte. Over time, as distance increases, memories fades and new relationships emerge you hear it less, and instead of appreciating the ‘I miss yous ‘that remain, you get angry or upset - your ego is damaged - by the lack of them. All of that happened to me.

    As that period of my life ended I entered into in a long term, long distance relationship that lasted over two years. Everything wonderful about that relationship aside, it had an important role in restructuring my ego. The words ‘I miss you’ played a massive part in that. Suddenly the number of people saying ‘I miss you’ paled in comparison to this one, incredible person who meant it so painfully and specifically was driven to tears over it. It became a daily reminder of how beautiful our bond was. Don't get me wrong. That's healthy in all good relationships; you should miss each other when you're not present. But it became the corner stone. One which I tried, in my deeply flawed and ego-driven attempt to deal with the pain of missing that someone, to distance myself from. Reality, when it came, could never live up to the mythology that came to define us. ‘I miss you’ became a habit, then a platitude and in time lost its meaning. 

    When you become deracinated from the notion of missing a specific person and being missed as a specific person, you become lost. 

    It's hard to miss what can't be found.

    So that ended and we thought we missed each other when it did so - and genuinely did in some sense - but in reality, we missed ourselves. When relationships end, there is an inevitable period of readjusting and redefining oneself. That is a lot of uncertainty. A lot of change. If you don't know who you are, how could anyone miss you? Their version of you, sure. But that's a part of them. Our internal self-value system breaks down. That's why we start trying new things: new hair colours, new hobbies (or approaching old ones with renewed vigour), new people and places - or more destructive but just as naturally - more drinking, shagging around; numbing the pain. 

    And that is where being missed comes in. In the (by some measures) year since that relationship ended, I've been told 'I miss you' by more people. Fewer than at uni, but with more meaning, than ever before. ‘I miss you’ means 'I care about you', and if people still say it while you're at your lowest ebb - battling depression, dumped, hating your job, struggling through daily panic attacks and withdrawing from society - and crucially they act on it, then it's difficult not to gain self-worth again. 

    Perhaps more importantly, I found myself saying ‘I miss you’ more often, to more people, not as a platitude, but because their presence improved my life. I felt a renewed sense of community and connectedness. It is no overstatement to say that while beating depression or getting over someone or rediscovering your passion is a solo job, doing so is put into perspective and made easier when other people have a vested interest in your well-being - and you have a vested interest in theirs. 

    It also helped, I believe, that the majority of those saying ‘I miss you’ to me over the last year were men. No ulterior motive. They simply missed my company. Saying so, as a man to another man, is to tacitly trust the other man with that most unmasculine (so our society says) of things: vulnerability. That our status as alpha-male-hunter-gatherer-supermen-lone-wolf is compromised without our mates is a stunningly intimate thing that goes unsaid, and that requires trust, respect and mutuality. It requires value.  

    That isn’t to say friend-girls didn’t help. But there isn't the same empathy regarding the forsaking and rebuilding of ego. Simply put, being missed by guys has a different value - not more, just different - to being missed by girls. 

    This week one of those guys, called me out of the blue. We'd not spoken for a couple of weeks and started off saying he missed me. He needed a bit of help with something, but nothing a text wouldn't have sorted. My best friend and I speak almost every day. We only see each other every month or so, often longer. About once a week we'll say we miss each other, admitting without saying it that every week that goes by without having spent a few hours over a pint, food, joint or guitar is a week genuinely wasted. Time moves quickly. 

    So if you've taken the time to read this, take a further moment to consider - who do you miss? Doesn't have to be someone who isn't around at the moment. That's not the point. They could be in the next room.

    Now tell them. Without fear of judgement. If they've come to mind for any reason, it's worth saying it. It'll reaffirm their worth to you, your worth to yourself or so, so importantly, it may just make someone's day. 

  9. It seems like my random sharing might be becoming a trend on this blog. So this here is a creative non-fiction piece I wrote last year for creative writing class, so everything in here is completely true and real and from personal experience. People's names have been changed, even though it wouldn't really matter if they hadn't been. The only name that hasn't been changed is my sister's, because she knew I was writing this and I got consent from her so there's that. Places and events mentioned are also unaltered.




    Home is Where the Heart Was


    I’ve been thinking about something, thinking that maybe I should go home. I miss home. My mind leaves, trying to create new memories, to get something out of nothing. As I reach my imaginary street intersection, I start to notice differences. Everyone looks different. Did they…?

    A young man with an orange backpack, always running. Everyday as I wait for my bus, I see him. I know he’s not late. I saw him in Alizade’s, the convenience store a street over from mine, once. It was the same time, I had gone there to get some lead. In he walked; tall, dark hair, dark clothes; no color on him besides the blinding neon orange of his backpack. He stood there for a moment as if he couldn’t remember why he was there before he bought a notebook and promptly walked out. He’s not late to where he’s going, he wouldn’t have time to spare for a convenience store that way. No, he just likes to run.

    Two busses pass me by as I wait. The first one is a faded blue, almost the same color as my own bus. It used to be a red herring, before I learned to differentiate the blues. The second bus is usually an ugly brown, but sometimes it shows up as a red one. Those are the days the driver has to take care of his mother; she’s sick. A friend of mine rides that bus and speaks to the driver occasionally; she waves at me everyday as the bus passes by, her face leaned against the window, her voice trying to break through the glass to reach me.

    Sometimes I go to the other bus stop near me. It’s just a street over, after all. Right in front of Alizade’s. I remember the girl who would stand there. She was a grade below me, quiet until her sharp wit cut you off; that was when you noticed the slight mischievous glance in her pistachio eyes, the hazel in the inner region of her irises expanding as she laughed at you. I can’t remember her name, but it meant something close to ‘mercy giver’.

    None of them are there anymore.

    No. These are not the same people I used to see everyday. These people are all the same, unknown to me. There are new buildings, and a missing one. Alizade’s is gone, in its place lies a grocery store.

    No. This is not the home I wanted to go to. But that’s not a home I can go back to. That home stopped existing, one change after I left. I can’t go to this home, it isn’t there anymore.

    Another home then.

    Anna holds my hand in the car, and we dodge MZ’s bites. He is five, and a wild troublemaker. Sometime’s we throw him to the passenger seat, shaking our head at Pearl. “We’re too tired today,” we yawn together. She holds my hand and we joke about bumps in the road, talk about nothing and everything. A bad driver passes by. We look at each other and simultaneously say it: “If only we were in the pickup truck,” then we burst out into laughter, and her honey brown eyes glint. A joke, courtesy of my dad. His work car is a pickup truck, which was our family car, once upon a time. It’s white, still gleaming even though it’s old and beaten up. When we’re driving in our new car and a reckless driver passes by, my dad narrows his eyes slightly, then mutters: “if only I was driving the pickup truck.” That is to say, if he was in the pickup truck he would hit the car. Yeah right.

    We pass another bump. That’s the last bump in the road to school. The air is visibly brown; it’s one of those days. One of those days where there is so much dust you can barely breathe. Anna takes two masks out of her school bag; she knows I always forget. A car passes us, coming from the direction of the school. “Let’s go back, school’s obviously out today.” Anna jokes, flashing me her wide grin, a slight dimple forming on the left corner of her mouth, and I give her the look. We do this everyday, even when the air is clear. Well, as clear as it can get in Ahvaz. No matter how good she is at school, she doesn’t want to go. Neither do I, the difference is, if it was optional I would still go. I’m that kind of person, unfortunately.

    We glance at LP’s empty spot in the car. She changed schools a few weeks into the school year, finally convincing her parents to let her go to art school. I’m happy for her, but I miss her so much. She moved recently too, so I can’t walk to her place anymore. I barely see her, and it saddens me. Last year, in 8th grade, was when we became friends. I had known her for a while, friend of a friend sort of thing, but we weren’t anything more than acquaintances. I can’t remember the exact day, but it was either the Day of Tasu’a or Ashura. Those are the ninth and tenth days of Muharram, and Iran, being an Islamic country, forces the students to take some time out of their class to sit outside and grieve. Stupid, I know.

    It was raining that day, and everyone was sitting on the stands in front of the classes, as they were shielded from the rain, columns holding up extra pieces of roof that were the second floor. I came out of class late, trying to cut the experience as short as possible. I sat in the first empty spot I found, which was next to LP. Both of us were pissed about this, and I could see her rage, fighting to break out. I spoke to her about it, and pretty soon, we were ignoring the ceremony and discussing politics, religion, and how they tied into our school system. I have detailed accounts of that day in my journals. I remember the exact moment I realized how special she was; she spoke with such passion, putting feelings into words that I hadn’t even realized I had felt until she described them.

    It was the Day of Tasu’a, I remember now. We sat together for Ashura as well, and repeated the day before. Before a week had passed, she was one of my closest friends. She was fiery passion, full of thoughts and ideas, but she could also be a soft flame. The days when we bought Falafel sandwiches and shared a bottle of coke, softly speaking until we realized we shared music opinions and got excited. She would go red very fast, her tanned skin gaining a pink hue as soon as she started to laugh; impossibly big almond eyes squinted half shut as a stray tear escaped.

    Angel never liked LP, and LP didn’t like Angel either. In fact, not many people did. I was probably her only actual friend in 8th grade. She was soft and lovely, but insensitive. Her wings were sharp, and always open. She felt her parents didn’t love her, and I could see why she thought that, at least of her father. He doted on her younger brother, sometimes even completely ignoring Angel. She was so hurt, always looking for someone to love her, never knowing how to seek. She didn’t like herself as well as she should have, complaining that she was too skinny, her nose too big. It seemed like superficial whining, but I knew better. I knew how insecure she was about those things; how insecure she was about a lot of things. She didn’t like my other friends, she felt they would take me away from her.

    Oh, sweet Angel. Sweet Angel with your dimples as deep as the grand canyon and lashes that framed your black eyes, as thick as could be. Sweet Angel, crying on my shoulder then trying to laugh it off, as if your feelings aren’t valid and it’s ridiculous that you even have any.

    They made it work for me. The three of them would play nice, even though LP and Anna didn’t like Angel; they wouldn’t show it in front of me. That was home, sitting on a desk holding Anna’s hand, as LP and I fangirled about music and Angel copied my math homework.

    That’s lost; can never be regained, not in this way. Home will never be that again, but it will be them; my friends.

    Another home then.

    I’m seven and crying. Dad just yelled at me, and I feel as small as I could ever be. I curl in on myself, wrapping myself between the several blankets that lie in the closet next to me. I don’t close the closet door; there’s no need. The room’s door is closed, and it’s not like anyone cares enough to check what’s going on anyway.

    She did though.

    She opens the door, helps me out of the closet and onto my bed; holds me until I’ve cried all the tears my feeble body could produce. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. All I need, all I will ever need is her arms. I don’t need to tell her what happened, dad already spoke to her about it. I mumble some incoherent words in the middle of my sobs, words I don’t understand but she does. I bathe in the warmth she emits, and her perpetual scent of comfort wraps around me like a blanket. Mother; loving and caring, the only one to hold me as I cry.

    I’m twelve and in class. The teacher hasn’t showed up yet, and Angel is moaning about how her crush doesn’t like her. I look at the clock. It’s ten-thirty; it should be any minute now. Nervousness and anger bubble inside me. I want to turn around and scream at Angel. Scream at her that while she goes on and on and on about her stupid crush my mother is in Tehran, about to have her head opened up.

    I don’t say anything. I just sit, staring blankly at the clock. I know she’s scared. She had told me, a few days before she left. She was scared of head surgeries, scared that someone would mess up and she wouldn’t be right in the head ever again, scared that she would die.

    I would try to reassure her, but what did I know? They tried to hide it from me when it first started, before it was a brain tumor. They tried to hide it from me that she had cancer, but once she started the chemo, I knew. I would stay up so many nights waiting for her to come back from her chemo sessions, even though she would be upset at me because it was a school night. I would hug her when I saw her look down at her chest in slight distaste, as if her battle scars made her less of a woman. I couldn’t do anything besides hug her, as she would hug me; nothing between us but love. But love wouldn’t keep her alive.

    I’m fifteen. We’ve moved from Iran; left behind a home, a life. But she is with me, and so I endure. She is here and therefore I am still at home. But she’s in the hospital, and I get a call from Anahid in chorus. It’s bad, she tells me softly. I didn’t know what this new development was, how would I? I look up brain lesions after the phone call ends, and put it into context. I stifle sobs in the bathroom until lunch ends, then I go back into class and pretend nothing happened.

    It’s March 5th, 2015. I’m looking at my health notes in preparation for the midterm that is next week. Mom is in bed, as she always is these days. The lesions did their work fast. At first she had trouble moving, and then she was bedridden. After that came the slowed speech, and now she barely knows what’s going on. Her eyes open from time to time, and it’s similar to a disinterested child; she can’t understand what’s going on or put it into context. I suppose this is what they call a vegetative state. It burns, to see her fall apart like that. To have to hear the sound of her impairment everyday with every breath. The oxygen mask makes a loud noise when she breaths, and it hurts because I know she hurts. I know that it pains her to breathe, that she is uncomfortable and in agony. I know that dad wants to transfer her back to the hospital soon because he doesn’t want her to die here.

    Too late.

    I’m looking at my notes and I freeze. I hear it; or rather, don’t. The sound of her breathing mask stops, and it’s like the world does as well. Then my aunt’s crying and screaming and dad’s frozen as I call 911, and Anahid and I push down on her chest as the lady on the phone instructs us to. Then there are more people and everything is hectic and I want to be with her but the ambulance takes her body away from me, shuts it behind metal gates and drives away. The cops ask me questions : our names, social security numbers, phone numbers, etc. I can barely breathe; my legs are shaking. I forget my answers as I’m giving them, and the cop speaking to me says it’s ok.

    It’s ok. It’s not.

    I can’t cry, I’m suffocating. There’s so many people around me; family members that show up and cry, or hug me and tell me they’re sorry. I’m shivering.

    I can’t breathe.

    Not this home. I can’t have this home, in any way ever again. My first home is dead, gone.

    I don’t want to think anymore.



    Moods: semi-permanent state of having no clue about anything


    Stay Dirty


  10. Dirntbag
    Latest Entry

    A night out with people you barely know,
    dancing dizzy, skinny spinning,
    all midriff show; cheapskate too
    stingy to check a coat -
    we are queens these nights, 
    first time connoisseurs of sensation and aesthetic;
    delight in that tiny feeling:
    the sticking the unsticking of
    crop top cotton to the skin of my back
    with sweat – my purse an almanac of this time,
    and I, coy coquette; my receipts
    chronicling adventures unfinished as of yet.

    This is Georgia’s face in the strobe light’s flash,
    fragments of her doing her dance,
    and Nick watching his feet, and his
    head snapping up again, beaming, to the beat.
    It’s permanent marker on my arm
    proclaiming me an honorary member of Hugh Stewart hall -
    and Broadgate late eats; nutella toast at 2am,
    then propping up my tired feet.
    It’s collapsing into hysterics and swapping 
    slang – full hot and plastered and sloshed,
    pulling boys and causing disasters,
    and when it’s time for a nosh,
    putting all the food you have left
    between bread, calling it dinner,
    and going ahead.

    It is a million faces, the ones you draw
    in art soc, the ones you smile at
    for nervousness, the ones you will never
    see again – it’s being completely free.

    Fresher’s week is going for the double shot of vodka,
    sharing black seal rum, wine glasses smashing
    or cheersing, then crashing before we see the sun.
    My flat mates’ faces popping out their doors
    one by one, making conference room of the hall
    and collapsing into giddy, giggling free-for-all.
    It’s when I can’t hear the bar tender, I’ll just say yes;
    it’s getting a pint when you needed much less,
    it’s a 3 pound 50 bumper car ride under neon flashing lights
    and Georgia by my side, faces grinning wide… 
    it’s the feeling curled inside like a sleeping dog,
    the warm contentedness of knowing you belong.

  11. So, I put this together fairly quickly. Here's to the new album, Revolution Radio! I had fun doing this so I may do more. 


  12. Albums:
    Blink 182 - California
    Green Day - Revolution Radio
    NOFX - First Ditch Effort
    Sum 41 - 13 voices

    1st place: 3 points
    2nd place: 2 points
    3rd place: 1 point
    4th place: 0 points

    Album covers:
    Green Day - 4h place (It's just a burning radio without any text on it)
    Blink 182- 3rd place (Cool drawing, too much white)
    NOFX - 2nd place (Nice black and white image, NOFX style)
    Sum 41 - 1st place (Clean design, just perfect)

    Number of songs I like:
    Blink 182: 4/16 -> 25% -> 4th place
    Green Day: 6/12 -> 50% -> 3rd place
    NOFX: 11/13 -> 85% -> 2nd place
    Sum 41: 10/10 -> 100% -> 1st place

    Good singles (promotional songs):
    Blink 182: 0/3 -> 0% -> 4th place
    Green Day: 2/3 ->75% -> 3rd place
    NOFX: 3/3 -> 100% -> 1st place
    Sum 41: 3/3 -> 100% ->1st place

    Production and mastering
    Green Day - 4th place
    Blink 182 - 3rd place
    NOFX - 2nd place
    Sum 41 - 1st place

    Blink 182: 2 points
    Green Day: 2 points
    NOFX: 9 points
    Sum 41: 12 points



  13. Hey all! I wrote my newest article for HerCampus and it is all about Green Day! I would really appreciate it very much if you guys could check it out. If there are any errors in information, please let me know. @Todd luckily corrected a lot for me already. I got some of my info from sources that are not 100% reliable so if I could be corrected, it would be great. I also had a graduate student edit this, so I hope there are no grammatical issues. 



  14. Alissa's Blog

    (This is already posted on GDA with awesome photos by @MooreClick, but I wanted to post it here for those of you who are solely GDCers and for my own easy access. Enjoy! :))


    After a two-year break from touring, Green Day was clearly itching to get back on the road. And in case anyone doubted it, Billie Joe Armstrong made it known early Monday night at the band’s first promotional show for Revolution Radio, its new album that releases Oct. 7.

     “You know what sucks? Taking time off of playing music. It’s hard,” he said, just a few songs into the setlist, gazing out and smiling at the eager, sold-out crowd inside Columbus, Ohio’s Newport Music Hall.

    “Look at this fucking place. Look at this. We’re back.”

    Cheers and applause erupted. Yes, they're back — in every sense of the word.

    Despite the hiatus, and after recovering from an illness that led them to postpone tour dates last week, the band thankfully didn’t appear weary or out-of-practice. In about two hours, they ripped through a 25-song setlist with no frills but all the high-energy antics of an arena show. The intimate feeling of seeing the orchestrated chaos just a few feet from your face is almost indescribable. From the second row of the 1,700-person venue, I could see all the tiny details usually only spotted in professionally shot videos: the beads of sweat rolling down their faces; Billie Joe’s quirky starred-and-striped socks; an adorable message, “Hello Again!”, scribbled in silver marker on the front of Mike Dirnt’s black sleeveless vest.

    Monday night’s set opened with new singles “Bang Bang” and “Revolution Radio” performed live for the first time, in that order. It’s a thrilling one-two punch that’s hard to top. The songs sounded just as good live as in the studio, if not better, as the band fed off the enthusiasm of a crowd that already had the lyrics memorized. The two songs blended in seamlessly with an otherwise greatest-hits-heavy setlist dominated by singles from American Idiot and Dookie. The show mostly followed Green Day’s tried-and-true formula for live shows, peppered with a few pleasant surprises in-between, including the return of “Scattered” and “Hitchin’ a Ride” from Nimrod and Kerplunk’s “2000 Light Years Away” and “Christie Road.” Billie Joe even sang a few lines from the trilogy’s “Nuclear Family” during the bridge of “Scattered” and looked quite amused with himself during the seconds-long medley.

    Many fans, myself included, were initially surprised the setlist wasn’t filled with deep cuts from the past or more new songs from their upcoming album. But as the show continued on, with little deviation from what longtime fans have come to expect from a Green Day concert, I focused less on the songs’ rarity and more on enjoying the performance. This show, I realized, wasn’t meant to be like the last club show I attended, at the House of Blues in Cleveland, the night before the band’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction. It wasn’t a nostalgic trip down memory lane. It was, it seemed, about looking forward to the future and getting back into a groove to prepare for a lengthy world tour that's likely in the works.

    From my spot in the pit, in front of Mike, the crowd was nothing like the House of Blues, either. For me, that was a good thing. There were fewer crowd surfers, fewer angsty fans clobbering each other to get a closer spot and few, if any, moments where I felt overwhelmed, at-risk or exhausted. Due to a strict policy that prohibited cell phone recordings of the show (which some fans, unsurprisingly, disregarded anyway), there were also fewer people blocking others’ views to get shots for YouTube. At first, I thought the policy was bogus, but in hindsight, I appreciate it. At my first Green Day show, in Pittsburgh in 2013, I spent more time fending off a violent girl who was desperate for YouTube footage than enjoying the music. Here, everyone seemed more focused on having a good time than anything else. The crowd wasn't dead by any means, but my experience with it was tamer and more controlled this time around.

    The band was having a blast, too, and that was evident by the smiles that never left Billie Joe and Mike’s faces and their frequent laughter. I couldn’t see Tré Cool much from my spot in the pit, but I did catch him chuckling a few times, too. During “Minority,” Mike planted a kiss on Billie Joe’s cheek. Billie Joe playfully bantered with the crowd during “Hitchin’ a Ride” and joined saxophone player Jason Freese on a harmonica during “King for a Day.” The pink bunny made its return in the preshow. The show was filled with good, genuine fun and emotion.

    Mainly for those reasons, I was really bummed to see Revolution Radio’s third single, "Still Breathing," was listed on Monday’s setlist but not played. The recently released song, which alludes to dealing with addiction, epitomizes the message of moving forward and positivity that Monday’s show seemed to symbolize. Because the band delayed its tour a week, it’s possible the song was scrapped because isn’t ready to be performed live yet, but I hope it’s added to the setlist soon. I could easily see it becoming a crowd favorite and it’s a song full of raw emotion that clearly resonates with the band, too.

    Given the political nature of Revolution Radio’s titular track, it came as no surprise that Billie Joe devoted a little show time to political talk, too. He joked about the presidential debate occurring that night and encouraged people to vote and "bring sanity back" into political discussions. He also mentioned it was fitting to kick off the tour in Ohio’s capital city, presumably because it’s a swing state that heavily influences elections. Personally, I also found it fitting that the band debuted the song “Revolution Radio” in Columbus because the city has recently sparked several Black Lives Matter protests, following a fatal police shooting of a 13-year-old black robbery suspect this month. A similar protest in New York inspired Billie Joe to write the song. Just moments before the concert doors opened Monday, a protest formed (unrelated to the concert) and prompted police to shut down a portion of the street adjacent to the concert venue. An eerie coincidence and a powerful reminder of the song's relevance.

    The show closed with two acoustic songs, “Ordinary World,” Revolution Radio’s beautiful, but simple closer, and the classic “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life).” "Ordinary World," written for a namesake movie starring Billie Joe that releases Oct. 14, didn’t receive nearly the same reaction as the fast-paced new songs, but those who were familiar with it, including me, seemed to appreciate hearing it.

    A friend of mine and longtime Green Day fan attended the show with me, and on our drive home, he mentioned how differently the band, especially Billie Joe, presented itself compared to recordings of shows he’s watched in the past, such as fan videos and Bullet in a Bible. Since, at this point, I’m a bit jaded to the band’s criticism, I assumed he was being critical. The statement that followed surprised me.

    “He just seemed… happy. Really aware and appreciative of what was going on.”

    I think that’s a message any fan who criticized the show’s setlist could learn from. Just appreciating the moment. One such instance that really struck me Monday was during the performance of “Waiting,” listening to the lyrics referencing the “dawning of a new era,” while the stage lights faded into a soft white glow around the band. It just seemed so fitting. Revolution Radio releases in just nine days. Its supporting tour, and Green Day’s newest era, is just getting started.

    If Monday’s show is any indicator of what to expect, I can’t wait to see what it brings us.

  15. Well, well, well. Look who's back in town, probably not for long since I'm starting uni (!!!!!!) in 2 weeks, plus I'm moving in exactly 1 week. My god, have my anxiety been sky high these couple of weeks after founding out that I actually have to move outside my comfort zone, leave all my friends (sure they're still gonna be there, but still) and just.. start all over again. It's kinda scary actually. Last time you saw me here, I was... emotionally unstable. Still am, but it's better. Sometimes I get so much anxiety that I just want to end it, but I don't (obviously because I'm here). I don't want to cause more pain to my family than there already is. So much pain going on in our family, you have no idea. 

    I'm still damaged inside, but I don't show it anymore. 

    I have no idea why I wrote this post, just kinda felt like it.

  16. It's now 3 in the morning and instead of sleeping, like I promised myself I would do, I'm listening to the 21st Century Breakdown album and having emotions (ew right?). I literally got out of bed to grab my phone and spent way too much time trying to figure out how to create a damn blog post on mobile. A decision I will probably regret in the morning, because tired-out-me behaves scarily very similar to drunk-me.

    I was trying to stop myself from googling the leak, even thought about how useful a straight jacket would be now. So I was listening to Stop Drop and Roll for the first time ever, to distract myself, and when that album was over I thought "why not listen to Peacemaker... 10 times in a row" because why the fuck not. When that was done, I started over and listened to the album from the beginning and was hit by nostalgia like a fucking cargo train at full speed.

    I started liking Green Day in 2007 or 2008, so before 21st CB was released, when I occasionally heard Boulevard of Broken Dreams or Wake Me Up When September Ends (I can't believe I didn't just abbreviate it) on the radio or when we sang those songs in our music lessons at school. I still remember how a classmate brought the album to school and I thought "what a stupid teacher's pet ass kisser nerd", but secretly fancied the idea of Green Day sitting in my classroom while we sang their songs.

    That's when the infamous 7th grade emo phase began. Since I was an insufferable copycat back then (not much has changed though... I'm still insufferable but I'm original and insufferable!), I did everything my cousin did, who did everything her cousin did. So all three of us started wearing black, dyeing our hair, wearing converse, using eyeliner, black nail polish and cutting our bangs ourselves because no decent hairdresser wanted to tarnish our hair like that. And obsessing over Green Day. Because they were emo, obviously. Duh, they wear all black and guyliner. Thus we became the three little emo brats of the family (with her cousin being the emo leader, our supreme). We talked about Green Day the entire time, even though we knew absolutely nothing about them. I mean it. I only figured out years later that pre-American-Idiot-Green Day existed, when I accidentaly stumbled upon Warning on YouTube and thought "oh neat, a new song!":mellow: 

    I couldn't buy the album back then, so I downloaded each song from AI from some sketchy website to gift it as a CD to my cousin for New Year's. I think Extraordinary Girl was on there twice because I was stupid and couldn't tell the difference between two songs. 

    Then came the time 21st Century Breakdown was released, and my slow descend from "casual wannabe fan" to "hardcore fanatic" began... my cousin had stopped listening to them, and so had I. But then in the middle of their tour an acquaintance from school told me about how she saw them in Cologne and I was like... damn, remember when you liked Green Day? And I was back on the Green Day track and got 21st CB and Kerplunk for Christmas. I listened to that album every day on my way to school and begged my mother to let me go to their concert, but she wouldn't let me because I was only 14 or 15. My brother also kinda liked Green Day, but not as obsessively as I did and wouldn't go with me.

    Green Day had started to become a really big part of my life. When I was 16 I had started to discover myself (ugh that sounds dirty) and began to question things, my religious upbringing for example. Back then my parents dragged me to church every Sunday, which I was never a fan of. But mostly because I'm the biggest slugabed there is and hated getting up early on Sunday mornings just to sit through an hour of a boring mass. But when I thought about everything the church stood for, I realised that I didn't want to be part of it. I thought that if I just broke to my parents that I didn't want to go to church anymore or go to confirmation, it would be fine. But I was wrong and my parents, two very conservative catholics, wouldn't have that. They still dragged me to church every Sunday and fought a real war with me every week. The tension in our family was so incredibly high and my siblings blamed it on me and my stubbornness. I should just suck it up and do it for my parents.

    After some time they forbid me to see my best friend because she was a bad influence on me (they overheard us discussing religion once), became aggressive and threatened to kick me out if I kept refusing to go to my confirmation. I even looked up shelters who picked up teenagers and made a plan to run away from home, after a panic attack when I got the letter from our church. I thought I would be homeless soon.

    I was listening to East Jesus Nowhere very day on our way to church and back, it was like a mantra. It kept me sane and gave me so much strength, that there was somebody out there who understood how I felt about religion and I was not in fact crazy for my beliefs. Hanging the lyrics on my wall was my own little way of rebellion and I felt so incredibly pleased with myself when I showed the song to my mum and she told me she liked it. I didn't answer her when she asked me what it was about, because she doesn't speak English, just felt really accomplished that I made her like a song about religious criticism.

    Things got better eventually, but now I lie here and think "well, what if Green Day didn't exist? Or what if that girl from school never told me about the concert, resulting in me never finding back my interest in Green Day?" What if there is a parallel universe, some hellish dystopia, where I had to go through all of that shit without Green Day keeping me sane? 

    Not only do I believe I would be a completely different person without Green Day than I am now, I think I would have also clocked out long ago. Green Day made my life better in so many ways - only because of them did I start talking to one of my best friends, who lives in England, 4 years ago. I've met so many great people because of our common feature being our love for this stupid band who thought it was a good idea to call themselves Green Day. My life would be so boring without them.

    I've been writing this for two straight hours now and the time to the new single release inches closer and closer... I am way too anxious to sleep. My brain just can't seem to fully realize what is going to happen in a few hours. This is honestly so surreal. At this point it's hard to imagine what else they could do and what else is going to come with the new era. I can't wait...

  17. Green Day: Still Relevant.

    Green Day status as a band is colossal. They’re true wisdom chasers, chroniclers of punk rock, masterminds behind the art of rock operas. And their hearts are completely drawn to music and its values, its magical aura, its stronghold. The act from California are still relevant and fresh. Their music has always evolved and flourished, it has always been truly monumental. Their style may have changed over the years, but their true humbleness has stayed rooted.

    Since 1986 Green Day have explored different musical angles and have morphed into a punk machine, tapping into genres and merging them together to create unique sounds. But are the band still relevant? That’s the question on the lips of many. And you know what? They’re still relevant, they’re still a band that many love.

    The band has created some of the most infectious and lyrically cohesive songs of the last 20 years. From their bratty major label debut Dookie to the politically drenched American Idiot, the contributions have always been golden. Billie Joe Armstrong’s sneers and poetic strands have caught the imagination of millions. The leading man writes with verve and precision, opening up worlds and creating stories. He’s gifted and often misunderstood, but truly entertaining. The band as a collective are truly purposeful. They’re focused on ascending and overtaking what they’ve done previously. Their minds are tuned in and ready to empty fables when needs be.  

    That’s why the Californian punk kings are still relevant!

  18. Ok so maybe I lied when I said it wouldn't take me another 5 months to post again. Actually since my last post it's been a literal year. Sorry I couldn't upload anything else but in all honestly up until May of this year I couldn't finish a song. I had ideas right after Inner Monologue but either couldn't come up with lyrics or could only think up a small amount of them. Those songs may be finished one day, but after these two songs I'm kinda out of ideas for full songs. Well I do know what I want to write about next it's just a matter of actually being able to do it. For now here's two new songs

    The first one is called "Plot Twist" which is about my other group of internet friends suddenly confessing shit all in the course of a few weeks or something (and the first verse TOTALLY isn't about me, what the fuck are you talking about that's such an unwarranted accusation)



    Confessions soon began
    With some online friends
    One wasn't so open with his life
    Then one day everything changed
    He decided to show his face
    Turns out he's not even a guy

    Everything I knew was wrong
    You've been different all along
    No ones what they claimed to be
    One reveal after the next
    It's a soap opera at its best
    Does anyone else want to speak?

    Everyone was blown away
    But that's not the end
    The tables continued to turn
    One friend came back from the dead
    Another wanted to confess
    She's really a guy not a girl

    Everything I knew was wrong
    You've been different all along
    No ones what they claimed to be
    One reveal after the next
    It's a soap opera at its best
    Does anyone else want to speak?

    There's enough lies to fill a page
    No one's their gender or their age
    The pictures we've made in our head
    In an instant, all made dead
    But somehow nothing has changed

    Everything I knew was wrong
    You've been different all along
    No ones what they claimed to be
    One reveal after the next
    It's a soap opera at its best
    Does anyone else want to speak?
    Speak now or forever hold your peace

    The second song is called "Tired" which is essentially me being done with people's shit



    You sure can hold a grudge
    I didn't know you'd hold this up
    For more than a few days
    But still that's not enough
    Cause you decide to
    Take everyone back
    You claimed to hate

    You push and pull me 
    From your life
    It took to long for me
    To open up my eyes

    I've had enough of you
    I'm sick of your never ending,

    Always changing mind
    Don't even try to 

    Deny this, it's true
    If you're gonna be this way 
    Maybe I should decide
    I don't need you

    For once I try to help
    But then months go by
    And still nothing's changed
    I thought I knew you well
    Then you go behind my back 
    And won't talk to my face

    I never thought 
    You'd reach so low

    I guess I was wrong and
    Now I know that 

    I've had enough of you
    I'm sick of your never ending,

    Always changing mind
    Don't even try to 

    Deny this, it's true
    If you're gonna be this way 
    Maybe I should decide
    I don't need you

    We don't stick together at all
    I guess it was to good to be true
    Is this really our final fall
    Did I mean anything to you

    -woo solo- 

    I've had enough of you
    I'm sick of your never ending,

    Always changing mind
    Don't even try to 

    Deny this, it's true
    If you're gonna be this way 
    Maybe I should decide
    I don't need you  (x2)


  19. howi
    Latest Entry

    hello all GDC'ers...;)

    i just let my drawing speak for it self..

    this time i post 15 my recent drawing.




    self portrait. acrylic, pen on a3 paper.



    my lonely riot. pen,marker, pastel, ink on a3 paper



    journey. acrylic on a3 paper.



    she saved my head. acrylic on a3 paper



    dead head. acrylic,pen on a3 paper.



    dead poet society. acrylic, pen on a3 paper.



    untitled. acrylic on a3 paper



    prometheus. oil paint and pen on a3 paper.



    cactus poem. acrylic, water colour, pen on a3 paper.



    exorcism #1. acrylic on a3 paper



    exorcism #2. acrylic on a3 paper



    death star of the year. acrylic on a3 paper.



    artist plant. acrylic on a3 paper.



    untitled. acrylic on a3 paper




  20. So ive been 18 for a few days now, still dont feel like an adult but thought everything was going great. Then this morning things took a real turn for utter shit. My boyfriend (some quick background on him, we were dating for 2 months, hes in the army, and hes supposed to go on leave today and come home for almost 2 weeks) dumped me this morning via text basically saying I can keep the birthday gift I got him and whatnot and he just cant do/ doesnt want a long distance relationship. Like what the hell man... you go on leave EXTREMELY soon and you break up with me, and a few days after my birthday no less. Like wouldn't a person not date someone if they aren't into long distance? Why date me for like 2 months and dump me =/ (even more background, his base is between 4-6 hours away so not that far either) How is about two states away even really long distance? GAH men are confusing as all hell. 


    ~Very frustrated person

  21. Blink-182 has never really been a "great" band, but their music has always been fun and relatable. They're one of those bands that sticks with you emotionally. I can remember exactly what my life was like during each Blink album release, and a few of their songs remind me vividly of people and places of my younger days. However, after losing their most talented member in Tom Delonge to CIA/alien investigations and overall insanity, the band is lacking in creativity.

    Blink wasn't the same after their reunion. Neighborhoods was a good album that pushed the band creatively, but it wasn't their sound. Then it all fell apart when Delonge quit the band AGAIN and Matt Skiba was recruited to fill the void. This band just makes me long for what could have been. Their self-titled album was the most creative of their career, but they've never quite been the same since.

    Their new album, made without Delonge, is just really really boring. The producer, John Feldmann, known for producing rushed, glossy, and robotic albums with the likes of 5SOS, Story of the Year, All Time Low, and Black Veil Brides (what a group, right?) should be all the proof you need to realize what's wrong with this record. The vocals are in the forefront for the first time ever on a Blink album, and on top of that they are unsettling in their pitch perfection. See, smart producers keep "vocal mistakes," such as throat clearing, coughs, swallowing, and some vocal errors in order to make the vocals seem more real and more alive. They're usually not even noticeable, but they are typically there. Feldmann took the often-bad singing of Mark Hoppus and vocally corrected it to almost perfection. He's never sounded worse. But if the goal was to make a pop pop poppy punk record like 5SOS or All Time Low, Feldmann nailed it.

    The next issue is the lyrics or topical nature of the album. Old Blink songs stuck out for being weird, catchy, and for making you uncomfortable. These songs have no impact and are largely about nothing. They attempted to make some classic funny Blink songs in "Built This Pool" and "Brohemian Rhapsody," but these songs together last less than a minute and leave more to be desired. "Built This Pool" is probably the catchiest song on the record, and it is 16 seconds long. Why wasn't it developed into a full song? Which bring in Feldmann again. Interviews about this new album say that Feldmann "rushed" the band through the writing process to give the album a more gritty and spontaneous feel. Given that the album doesn't feel gritty or spontaneous, just very rushed, shows the questionable decision-making of this guy. Some good lyrics and classic Blink metaphors shine through at time, but they're surrounded by garbage like "dear head: shutup" from "Rabbit Hole" or the choral phrase "she's aaaaaantisocial" over and over again in "She's Out of Her Mind." The record is filled with "ooos" and "ahhhhs" and "woahhhhs," often at points were they just sound lazy. But Feldmann is known for rushing albums, and there's already another Blink album in the works, so this fits nicely into his production history. Overall, all the songs sound the same. "San Diego" and "Bored to Death" literally have the same opening baseline.

    It's not all Feldmann's fault, though. Mark and Travis show that they really weren't the driving force behind Blink-182, and as much as they resent Tom, they can't make a good album without him. Tom wrote all the riffs, and his vocals are THE Blink vocals. Mark sings like a Mr. Potatohead toy singing through a pillow. His vocals used to work when he and Tom played off each other with constrasting deliveries, but now Mark's monotone delivery for 30+ minutes is like a club to the face. Matt Skiba doesn't take anything from the band, but he certainly doesn't add anything either, aside from some crossover fan support. Delonge may be coming off as a jealous, lonely, and psychotic individual recently, but he's a cornerstone of Blink and should probably be very happy with how poorly this album without him came out.

    So the album feels rushed and glossy and lacks all emotion, but I will be buying. First, I like the artwork. Second, I'd rather a world with some form of Blink-182 than a world without it. I'll support this band and probably get a few good listens through the album driving around during the summer. The sad thing is that the new Sum 41 song and every new Good Charlotte song has been better than anything on California. Even weirder, the producer for the new Charlotte album? Feldmann, which makes me wonder why their album sounds so much better. This dude is monopolizing the market of aging pop punk band production and pumping out rushed ,uninspired albums. You could say that he's the Adam Sandler of pop punk album producers. Anyway, songs to check out are probably "Built This Pool," "Los Angeles" (which is sort of creative for Blink), "She's Out of Her Mind" (which sounds close to classic Blink), and "Bored to Death" because it's the lead single or whatever. 2/5 stars: one for being an easy-listening album, and the other for making a nice-looking coaster.

  22. I recently Jason White had a band named California, which at first I thought it was gonna be like a surf band or something, but then I just gave it a chance and I was pretty impressed by the band. If you want to give them a listen, I suggest first listening to Hate the Pilot.

  23. Viva La Sonia!'s Blog

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    Recent Entries

    Latest Entry

    Hello GDC, :)

    I've started writing again lately. Not as much, and maybe not as well .  but I've decided to get this blog started up again. Apologies if they're not very good. And feel free to go through some of my older stuff, if you've never read my work before.

    I hope you enjoy all future posts!! 




    I didn't intend on invisibility 
    But that's how I feel when you look at me
    I've gone back to the comfort.
    Of a cold empty room
    Ridden with stories
    Ended too soon.
    I've curled back into my shell
    Of feeling like everyday alive
    Is a day in hell.
    I've retreated into the safety 
    Of my mind like a hurricane.
    With only the slightest
    Memory, of when I was sane. 
    I know I'll never feel that way
    And I curse your name to this day
    For making me this way.
    Hollow, empty, broken, insane.


    Where did you go?
    from what I remember, 
    You were supposed to be here forever 
    Will you ever return?
    If so, what's your excuse
    You needed to run away to see my use
    Will you ever stay?
    The forever you promised.
    Will remain worth the dirt.
    You're buried under 
    With my tears and rose petals 
    Over, where I deserve to be. 
    What's my excuse?
    For crying over someone 
    Who was never mine to lose.
    For making the same mistakes
    I've been taught not to make.
    I could cry in the pouring rain
    Hoping I turn as cold as you are now. 
    My blood as still and eyes as dim
    As yours will remain from now on. 
    But what's it worth to know 
    If I'll never know where you really did go.

  24. For anyone who's been waiting on part 2 of my research on socialism leading to communism - I apologize that it's taking a while. I've been swamped with looking into other important subjects, such as confirming on how the monetary system is loony business, reading up about the Montessori way of education, etc. I have these 2 PDF files I'll want to look at, one that I'm absolutely sure is about the use of RFID microchip implants on kids (ICK!), and one that is about Whole Child Education - something I need to get a better understanding of. My friend Anita Hoge had suggested that I read up about Maslow, and I just got started doing that.  

    As soon as I'm done going through those 2 PDF files, I shall look into Karl Marx, and Engels. ...I REALLY want to start on putting together the pictorial video towards the fifth podcast my dad and I did some weeks back, and put that on my YouTube channel. *sigh* I'll start getting pics together next week. To hear all 5 podcasts ahead of time, before I start sharing them on this blog, you may listen them on NewGrounds: http://silverfoxjams.newgrounds.com/audio/ The first one is titled "Hello Interwebs...", and that is quite a mind boggling webisode. This conversation between my dad and I, it's quite a debut! Anything that has "Discussion Podcast" to the right are the parts of the series.

    Another way of educating oneself is through listening to certain songs through the ages that describe the various real world problems that just never cease. It's another way to show that throughout history, certain tragedies and crimes keep repeating over and over again. To quote from a lyric from a Puddle of Mudd song; "Same old shit, different day." 

    I'll pick some from my YouTube Playlist custom soundtrack to share with you all, "The Awesome Anti-NWO Soundtrack/Ultimate Soundtrack for Humanity". As I type, 249 songs in all are on it! I'm sure there's more than that out there, lol. I've found songs that are really old ones, such as those by Robert Johnson, Fela Kuti, and Billie Holiday. There's more by older musicians, and a handful that are more recent; The Offspring, Linkin Park, Staind, Michael Jackson, Muse... (Of course I put songs by Green Day on there, too. I've got about 5 or 6 songs by them on there so far!)

    Here are the 5 I'll share at random. Enjoy!

    1. Muse - "Uprising" (This band for one is AMAZING! The front man vocalist, Matt Bellamy, he's got a helluva range! Example, have you heard how him sing on their song "Supremacy"?!? Everyone in this band is so good at what they do. ...Anyways, this is a great song that calls for revolution, to resist against the tyrants who want to dumb the masses down.)

    2. Rage Against the Machine - "No Shelter" (This is one of my favorites by this band. This song tells the truth about the kind of propaganda that's been put out there to keep the many distracted and unaware of the reality outside the American Dream. The video to go along with the song to me is powerful! Warning: there's some intense imagery in this!!)

    3. The Clash - "Clampdown" (This one is a classic, describing how people have been conditioned on how to live. The lyrics are in the description box if you check this one out on the YouTube website.)

    4. The Who - "Won't Get Fooled Again" (This would be another classic song! My parents and I like The Who a lot...)

    5. Lauryn Hill - "I Get Out" (She used to be in the 90's group The Fugees! [Do you remember their cover of the songs "Killing Me Softly", and Bob Marley's "No Woman No Cry"?] This song is about her rebelling against the filthy bastards in the music industry. This is also her message toward the masses, to wake up and realize the reality that is the Tyrant System.)

    Haha, okay I lied about picking 5 songs. Why not choose a BONUS one?! Here you go, guys and gals; one of Green Day's songs I put onto this playlist. ;) This is one of my most favorite songs, from their Warning Album.