I went to see Jello Biafra this week. The same Jello Biafra who sang for the Dead Kennedys, the same Jello Biafra who was charged with obscenity by the L.A. district attorney over the album cover of Frankenchrist (many penises in the H.R. Geiger artwork--Geiger's the guy who designed the "Alien"), and the same Jello Biafra who complains about everything he can.

He made some good points. He ranted about the rich having all the money (which they do), about religions not being taxed (which they aren't), and about how the mainstream news is swallowed by a handful of Monica and Diana stories while other newsworthy items are shelved (which it is). He had some poignant lines and some amusing anecdotes. He bashed corporations and praised independent thought. He mocked the greedy rich and celebrated the work of zines and pirate radio. Basically, he did what was expected for almost three hours, and the full crowd stared.

As interested as I was in what Biafra had to say, I found myself equally enthralled by the folks in the full auditorium who came to see him. First off, it felt like Punk Dress Up Day at school. People had orange hair, blue hair, spiked hair, nose rings, eyebrow rings, lip rings, leather jackets, torn jeans, and everything else that coincides with "the punk look." I wore what I had been wearing all day which consisted of tennis shoes, jeans and a long sleeve gray shirt. I don't have much of a punk wardrobe.

The crowd whooped and applauded with the "down with capitalism" message while some people slipped in and out to get something to drink at McDonalds. Biafra may have been preaching to his choir, but that doesn't mean they were listening.

Biafra gave the advice of not buying corporations' products as much as possible (which I practice), to change the media by becoming the media (I'm writing this column every week for no good reason, aren't I?), and be aware and vote on local issues (I voted in the February election this year, for goodness sake). All in all, I should as big a punk as everyone else.

Unfortunately, I've become too punk for punks. Which is to say I just don't care. I don't want to announce my beliefs and attitude through my clothing. I don't care if anyone knows that I gave up most fast food, that I'm disgusted by the extremely wealthy doing nothing but hoarding their riches, or that all of these travesties occur despite our strong economy. Biafra said to start a zine. I wrote columns for Lies Magazine throughout its duration and received the same amount of comments as I do for Shut Up I'm Talking. But I continue to spout off in my own special way, and I don't care if I ever get the accolades and scorn from the punks or anyone else. I have personal reasons for what I do, and it has more to do with self therapy than changing the world.

But Biafra spoke where his message would be received the best--a college campus. The place where students learn to define themselves by the causes they choose to support. "Did you know thousands of cattle are slaughtered everyday to satisfy the world's craving for meat?" "Did you know corporations are strip mining our land and shredding our forests?" "Did you know hemp is a strong fiber which can be turned into rope, clothes and other useful products even though it is outlawed?" Yeah, I knew all of that, and like Biafra said, the fall of Rome could be near. But I can't believe in the causes any more.

I worked a homeless shelter for a winter, and there are still homeless. I took care of emotionally and mentally-problemed kids, and there are more and more everyday. I hid from the world hoping and wishing all the sickness, evil and scorn of the human existence would go away forever, but it's still around as much as ever.

The world is evolving, partly in ways I'm in awe of and partly in ways that disgust me. I will be happy and sad as life goes on. I will have a punk mind without a punk body. I will blend into the masses regardless of how many unique thoughts I conjure up. I will be part of the human existence regardless of whether I decide to care or not.

What a good punk am I.

Chris Jungle has been to McDonalds once this year and purchased a McRib Extra Value Meal and chose an orange soda to wash it down.