Aaron's Two Cents

KEEP IT GOING by Aaron Gilman

As a Russian immigrant, who came to this country in 1978 with stripped citizenship from Soviet Union and not yet an acquired citizenship of the United States, I couldn’t wait to vote. It took seven long years before I finally could. I voted religiously ever since. It meant something, I was passionate about it. However, the last four elections, I found myself voting against someone rather than for someone. I was disillusioned, unimpressed and indifferent. The action lost its meaning. I no longer felt passionate nor driven.

We as a nation seemed to have lost our mojo, became complacent, fat and lazy. It seems as though we do not care or perhaps think we are unable to make a change because we feel it will be imposed on us by the ruling class (corporations) and media controlled by the ruling class. The process that was so revolutionary and noble has become empty and futile. The new generation doesn’t know, doesn’t care doesn’t do anything. Why? Because the prevailing thought is – we cannot deliver change. We are powerless against the multimillion dollar corporations and the supportive media. The grass roots approach is dead. Can we blame them for thinking that way? What is left of hope?

We must carry on, believe in ourselves, believe we can make a difference. But to do so, we must once again become a part of the machine – the political process. We must make our minds up. We must choose. We must vote! Hope will live if we keep it alive.

Chelsea's Crazy Universe

MY FIRST YEAR AT REVOLT - by Chelsea Bauer

When told I was expected to wear jeans, a t-shirt, and whatever else I might wear on a normal day to my first interview, I knew this was the place for me. What I didn’t know was how all the crazy antics, insane employees, and very “special” customer service techniques would actually change my entire life.

Withstanding the first phone interview with Aaron was awkwardly difficult. I hung up the phone (an hour later) knowing just about everything about him, and the company. Or so I thought. Soon enough, we grew closer and developed a bond like a father and daughter would. A bond strong enough that I often suspect my mother may have came to L.A. and cheated on my father with some punk Russian in the 80s. I think the most defining moment between us was a party night at his house. Sitting on a dog bed, in front of the speakers, he had a harmonica, I had myself, and somehow we ended up doing a duet to “Happiness is a warm gun” by The Beatles. Now thinking of it, music is the glue to this whole crazy family we have built.

Marie’s interpretation of music must be one of the greatest things know to the universe. It’s a real shame Canada let her leave; they could have another high grossing musician like Celine Dion. Accent and all, Marie has an uncanny ability to add a very “powerful” vibrato to any song she sings. Also adding a whole ‘nother octave to whatever piece she is singing. Then, when you bring her amazing dancing skills into the equation, you are headed for pure bliss.

Out of all the characters here, Gerry seems to be the most “normal”. In a world of psychotic clowns, he is like a big bar of Xanax covered in Prozac sprinkles. No matter how you are feeling, if Gerry laughs, everything is okay. He has assumed the big brother role around the office, and will always help you no matter what it takes, even if it means driving a car full of people up to the mountains, in traffic, with me being one of the occupants.

Cristina is best known for her gigantic fear of bees. This fear seemed to take a backseat while she was in the front seat on a scenic drive to get brunch. I drove into what appeared to be a huge dust cloud, spanning the entire width of Sunset Blvd. Once closer, I started screaming. The kind I only do when joking. As she laughed, I laughed inside my head because the one thing she didn’t know was the dust cloud was actually a biblical plague style swarm of bees. For a good 5 seconds, there were constant DINKS, PLINKS, and POWS! Once through, I yelled, “That was bees!” When turning back to see the swarm, she noticed there was one in the car. With all the fury that my 4 cylinder Honda could provide, we jetted across the 3 lanes to the side of the road, where we then spent a half hour trying to coax this bee out of my car. Then I collected his brothers from my dash, windshield, grill, wiper blades, hood…

When clients turn to co-workers, it’s great. I first saw Jeremy when I was coming back from a delivery. He was wearing an American Nightmare hoodie (If you don’t know who this is, they are a band that will probably hurt your ears). DUDE, That right there won major points. One night, Jeremy in his American Nightmare hoodie, and myself in my BANE hoodie, had Cristina as company out for a night of star fish hunting. We car moshed as we drove to Malibu, probably making Cristina insane. We scoured the rocks, but an hour later, I accepted the fact that star fish probably hated people who moshed in cars, and wanted to have no part in that. Empty handed we headed back home.

Going home actually feels more like a job than coming into the office. These freaks I work with have become a huge support system for me, and the best family I have ever had. Our clients have also become awesome friends of mine. It’s so nice to be excited to answer the phone, especially when I know the customer on the other end of the phone will feel the exact same way this place makes me feel. In a world where a LOT of people are out for themselves, this place has taught me to put that notion aside, and open myself for happiness. It has obviously taught me to be quite cheesy as well. One year past, another coming quick, if “Every day is a Friday”, this year will bring me 240 days of fucking radness!!!!!!!!

Booyah! Didn’t think I’d make it, bitches!

Things you should know!

CINCO DE MAYO! by Gerardo "Gerry" Sanchez
(or another commercial holiday)

The 5th of May is not Mexican Independence Day, but maybe it should be! And Cinco de Mayo is not an American holiday, but maybe it should be. So, why is Cinco de Mayo such a big day for Mexicans? And why do Americans celebrate this day as well?

4,000 Mexican soldiers crushed the French and Mexican traitors army of 8,000 at Puebla, Mexico 100 miles east of Mexico City on the morning of May 5, 1862. The French had landed in Mexico (along with Spanish and English troops) five months earlier at the pretext of collecting Mexican debts from the newly elected government of democratic President Benito Juarez (an american indian). The English and Spanish quickly made deals and left. The French, however, had different plans.



Under Emperor Napoleon III, who detested the United States, the French came to stay. They brought a Hapsburg prince with them to rule the new Mexican empire. His name was Maximilian; his wife, Carolota. Napoleon’s French Army had not been defeated in 50 years, and it invaded Mexico with the finest modern equipment and with a newly reconstituted Foreign Legion. The French were not afraid of anyone, especially since the United States was embroiled in its own Civil War.

The French Army left the port of Vera Cruz to attack Mexico City to the west, as the French assumed that the Mexicans would give up should their capital fall to the enemy—as European countries traditionally did.

Under the command of Texas-born General Zaragosa, (and the cavalry under the command of Colonel Porfirio Diaz, later to be Mexico’s president and dictator), the Mexicans waited. Brightly dressed French Dragoons led the enemy columns. The Mexican Army was far less stylish.

General Zaragosa ordered Colonel Diaz to take his cavalry, the best in the world, out to the French flanks. In response, the French did the most unforgiving thing – they sent their cavalry off to chase Diaz and his men, who proceeded to butcher them. The remaining French infantrymen charged the Mexican defenders through sloppy mud from a thunderstorm and through hundreds of head of stampeding cattle started by the indians armed only with machetes.
When the battle was over, many French soldiers were killed or wounded, and their cavalry was being chased by Diaz’s superb horsemen miles away. The Mexicans had won a great victory that kept Napoleon III from supplying the confederate rebels for another year, allowing the United States to build the greatest army the world had ever seen. This grand army smashed the Confederates at Gettysburg just 14 months after the battle of Puebla, essentially ending the Civil War.

Union forces were then rushed to the Texas/Mexican border under General Phil Sheridan, who made sure that the Mexicans got all the weapons and ammunition they needed to expel the French. American soldiers were discharged with their uniforms and rifles if they promised to join the Mexican Army to fight the French. The American Legion of Honor marched in the Victory Parade in Mexico, City.

It might be a historical stretch to credit the victory of the Union forces to those brave 4,000 Mexicans who faced the army twice as large in 1862. But who knows what would have happened if the French won?

Thousands of Mexicans crossed the border after the bombing of Pearl Harbor to join the U.S. Armed Forces. As recently as the Persian Gulf War, Mexicans flooded American consulates with phone calls, trying to join up and fight in another war for America.

Mexicans, you see, never forget who their friends are, and neither do Americans. That’s why Cinco de Mayo is such a party—A party that celebrates freedom and liberty. There are two ideals which Mexicans and Americans have fought shoulder to shoulder to protect freedom ever since the 5th of May, 1862. So pour yourself a shot of your favorite tequila and kick back! VIVA! el CINCO DE MAYO & VIVA! la REVOLTUCION!