A Rebel Soul Blows on the Wind Like Your Grandmother's Underwear on a Clothesline.

Seymour Mcjagger was a rebel.  When he helped old women cross the road, they ran away when they reached the other side.  When he hit on the good looking girls at the mall, their boyfriends offered them up as sacrifices to his might.  When babies saw him, they grew up to be cat-kicking pedophiles as a result of some deep-seated psychological scarring caused by his very visage.  Yes, Seymour Mcjagger was a rebel.  And his whole life had been leading up to that morning on February 18, 2012, minutes before he turned 21, when he would become the greatest rebel the world had ever known.

Yes, I suppose you could call Seymour a rebel, but to really understand him and his cause, you would have to understand the very moments of his birth.  You would have to go back to the beginning, before he was self-aware, before his psyche had fully developed, before he became the rebel that he became.  To know Seymour, and to know his purpose, you would have to know him as he was.

Seymour Mcjagger was born on February 18, 1991 at the exact time of 5:01 AM.

Almost 21 years later, he was standing outside Bobert's Beer, rebellion smoking out of his rebellious eyes.  He twirled his identification card in his hand, chuckling deviantly to himself.  Yes, he thought, he had gamed the system.  He was going to buy and consume alcohol before he turned 21.  It was lucky for him that bars opened at 5:00 AM because that would give him 1 minute to rebel like no rebel had ever rebelled.  He looked again at the birthdate on his ID.

"No time of birth" thought Seymour triumphantly.  "No time of birth indeed!"

Seymour was going to buy himself a beer while he was still officially 20 years old.

Seymour had been planning to do this with cigarettes at the age of 18, but a car crashed into him, just as he was swiping his mom's credit card at the local QFC.  This time though, he was completely, and utterly, ready.  As he stood outside Bobert's at 4:30 he was confident that not even a speeding car could disrupt him from his rebellious path.

Surprisingly, 4:59 rolled around without a problem.  Seymour peered in through the locked door of the bar, and waved at the approaching bartender who was coming to unlock the entranceway to his rebellious debut.  Suddenly he heard a screeching behind him!  Looking back, Seymour saw a Ferrari going out of control and skidding straight towards him.

Taking out his rocket launcher, Seymour Mcjagger calmly dispatched the Ferrari and turned back towards the now open bar door and walked cooly inside.

With his left hand calmly holding his ID card, Seymour approached the bar and said, "I'd like a double shot of beer on the rocks, no cream, shaken not stirred."

The bartender took a long drag on his cigarette, and slid Seymour Mcjagger a large pitcher of golden, frothy beer.  Seymour looked up at the clock, and saw that there were still 30 seconds till 5:01.  Taking a long sip, Seymour exulted in his deviance.

"This must be what rebellion tastes like," thought Seymour, dreamily.

"I see you're taking advantage of the new drinking age congress passed last night!" said the bartender.  "Now that's what I like to see in a kid!"

Seymour Mcjagger, once the world's premier rebel, and now the most up to date government buff, drowned his rebellious tears in beer that morning and died of an alcohol overdose at exactly 8:23 PM that evening at the age of 21 and 15 hours and 22 minutes.