Our Beloved Revolutionary SweeTART

This is what I looked like when I was chillin' in Frisco with my homeboy M.C. Kosher P and his posse on February 4th:

Somehow my greatly-missed mentor Julian Boyd's term "Cocktail Marxist" -- applied with fervor to certain UC Berkeley professors who were sure to be on the barricades, provided there was sufficient wine and cheese laid out -- comes to mind. The sad irony is that I do keep it real, like the tip of a knife.