Punk was not love. I was there—not as a punk, I was a new wave kid in Hawaii, Smiths obsessive, pastel button-down, Converse—but I spent enough late nights orbiting the actual punks to know what they were. Leather jackets in eighty-degree heat. Homeless or close to it. Moshing in parking lots. Fighting because people wanted to fight them constantly just for existing. The circle-A on everything. Anarchy, not community. I just bought the "Punk Is Love" mug for $20. It is completely wrong.