Author Archives: Sam Teitel

About Sam Teitel

Sam Teitel is a poet and performer based out of New England. His two poetry collections, SURVIVE SURVIVE SURVIVE and THE ASSASSIN AND THE GIANT MAN are available from Bicycle Comics. Sam has participated in five National Poetry Slams and two National Underground Poetry Invitational Championships. He has also been a featured performer at many theaters, bars, cafes, lecture halls, libraries and basements across the country. He has been a part of the No More Ribcage and Two Sensitive Guys ensemble tours and served as co-slam master for The Slam Free Or Die series in New Hampshire from 2010 to 2012. As a writer, Sam is mostly interested in the scary little things that make this life hilarious and excruciating at the same time

I Don’t Care About History: Rock Rock Rock & Roll High School – Sam Teitel


The movie “Rock and Roll High School” is 10% musical, 10% creepy underage sex fantasy and 80% weird love letter to themselves that The Ramones made in 1979. Most of the jokes barely stand the test of time if they were ever funny at all, but there is one bit that I still think is pretty funny. It’s the part where Joey Ramone has to sit there while some condescending record industry asshole forces disgusting looking green health food powder into his mouth and his band mates sit in the background enjoying pizza, cigarettes, and beer. That part is hilarious. I like it because I think I have been everybody in that scene at different points in my life, and I have pretty equal amounts of contempt and grudging respect for all of them.

As of this past summer, The Ramones are dead.


Just to give some context, one of the first T-shirts I ever cut the sleeves off of was a Ramones T-shirt. If you’re a suburban white kid who just happened to stumble into your spoiled, safe, hormone-driven angst in the days when the word “scene” was an adjective more often that it was a noun (like I was), then you know what a big deal that is. If you’re a real punk then this pathetic attempt on my part to show my weak credentials should be making you roll your eyes. Additionally, if you were around in whatever time is “back in the day” to you and feel the need to whip out your dick, condescendingly tell me how old and knowledgeable you are: Yes. Fine. Go ahead. You were there back in the day. You hung out with The Clash one time. Yes, you are more hardcore than I am. Now please go be a real punk somewhere else.
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