Late July, 2002
Adventure * mystery * excitement * chaos * the death of boredom * total vacation * no one would ever expect it at all. 50,000 kids in one place – but what are we supposed to do? really, now? play games? shake our booties to today’s funkiest dance grooves? build robots? fight monsters? work voodoo on our enemies? race shopping carts? dig through the garbage for treasure? dig in the sand for china? dress up like silly lunatics and have normal folk stare at us? walk up to them, hellbent on making them be lunatics with us, or at least making them feel like boring assholes? make obstacle courses, mazes and funhouses? cut out stencils to beautify the city’s walls and sidewalks? go trick-or-treating? fly kites? ride bikes? rock and roll? beat the innards out of pinatas? climb trees? slip and slide on wet, soapy sheets of plastic? juggle? explore the obscure corners of our environment? cook food? eat food? poop? pound, pluck and probe musical instruments, even constructing rhythm and harmony if you’re lucky enough? strap on armor and beat your friends with padded swords? pretend you’re brad pitt and kick the shit out of your friends sans wimpy armor? roll around in the hay with a love interest? hang your pretty drawrings on walls for people to look at? build catapults and other such weapons of mass destruction… i mean, innocent, fun toys? parade? watch movies made by crazy punk rockers and wierdos? fall in love? learn something useful or amusing or both or neither? generally live life like it mattered? oh yeah? that’s nuts! yes! Yes!! YES!!! fucking seattle, late july 2002. be there or die of boredom, for surely. THE KIDS are going to do something. they’re gonna have fun. but what is fun? it’s what we’re not supposed to have, it’s treating the city like it was ours, our own world of dance parties and war games, art shows on public walls and theater in the streets, rap videos come to life and mythical beasts rampaging through a city that should not be there. all it takes is some creativity, some energy, some not givin a fuck, and a shove to get the ball rolling. tell everyone you know. tell the kids you know who like fucking with people, tell the kids who aren’t afraid of anything, tell the kids who wouldn’t in a million years so much as dream of being boring, tell kids in bands, kids who make stencils, kids who’re always telling you about a crazy idea they have, kids who will dance all night long and then walk all the way home telling you stories, kids with the fucking spirit of pippi longstocking & abbie hoffman. and send this shit around. haha! love you. chef jeffrey moominmonster footclan@ziplip.com nihil@bikerider.com
The Slingshot Collective