There comes a time–mostly mid-to-late teens–when you want your preferences known. Any and all preferences. Musical, religious, movie, food, drink, fuck partner, etc. You broadcast your preferences anywhere there’s retail space. Could be on a folder you bring to class (admittedly, I’ve never seen, “I fuck Amanda” instead of “I love Amanda” scrawled on a Geography folder, but I’ve been out of school for longer than regolith’s been on the moon), on the side of a building (taggers, you know who you are or were), a tattoo (mom said “No!” you got it anyway), a sticker, a poster on your wall, whatever and wherever! You just people to know who you are by what’s draped on and over you, the things you own, etc. I recently saw a dude (not a kid) wearing an old Cradle of Filth shirt. You know the one. Well, maybe. It’s a pretty old shirt. But on the back it states, “Jesus is a Cunt”, in huge bold letters. Now, that’s broadcasting! Sure, the dude could’ve been a fan of the infamous British (former) black metallers. There are tons, actually. He’s probably not just a fan. He’s telling everyone behind him that he thinks Jesus is/was a cunt. There comes a point, however, when broadcasting everything you do, like, dislike, love, hate, etc. becomes a little, uh, passé. OK, I’ll sport my recently acquired Evocation hoodie all damned day (the back has something do with “burning churches”), but to read that you A) have to be able to read German Gothic fonts and B) uncomfortably close to my hind quarters. Anyway, most of us are no longer teens, but have managed to broadcast our preferences–mostly musical –on our license plates. We’ve graduated from scrawling on a folder, spray painting a wall, and arguing in record stores to stick our favorite bands on stamped metal—which is pretty metal—for every motorist to see and talk about while they follow you on the highway.
Take a look at these license plates. Childish or still fucking cool as the day you finally perfected (no tracing!) the Entombed logo while in Chemistry?