Utopian World Championship

I am a product.

I am a product of Africa, the homeland of all humanity. I am a product of the three islands of my immediate ancestors (Sicily, Ireland, Madeira) and the people before them who chose to move apart from the mainland. I am a product of the United States -a country founded upon chattel slavery and maintained by wage slavery- and all the beauty and filth that it has spawned. I am a product of racism and abolitionism, of democracy, deceit, privilege and passion.

I am a product of wonderful parents who set the standard for compas-sion. I am a product of nine loveable siblings, full of mischief and creativity, stubborness and generosity, confusion and humor, deviltry and dedication. I am a product of a fantastic partner who has balanced me with her sense of reason, her determination, and her honesty. I am a product of our two children who helped make me who i am with their charm and their challenge.

I am a product of Sweden, the cold darkness of the soul that grows on oneself like frost, the sense of humanity and decency that brought me here. I am a product of all my friends who have perspired, inspired, and expired -the tragedy, the comedy of life. I am a product of an unholy trinity: the Catholic Church, the punk community, the peace and justice movement. I am a product of my choices - choices guided by a respect for the sanctity of self and the sanctity of others. I am the product of the genetic coding that determined my gender, my physical stature, and my confused creativity.

I am a product of sound - fast sound wired to my heart, sporadic sound rewiring my brain, stereo-noise sound calming my nerves, cricket sound flowing through my veins. I am a product of God and nature; entropy, decay, and flowers of chaos.

Like you, i am a product.

Yet none of us need be for sale.

January, 2002


T.R.O.Y. Photo by Karin Johansson-Mex