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Discover the Magic Of Jose Nation

Don’t believe everything you hear. Rock and roll will only die when you pry Jose Nation’s Strat from his cold, dead hands. Click on the play button above and listen to him scream.

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Follow our pal Nicky as he navigates the trials and tribulations of office life, and watch as he discovers that not everything that glitters is gold. Sometimes it’s just wet.

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Pedestals are nasty. Cold and unapproachable, they’re a relic from a bygone era; a tool for oppressors. Jose hates anything placed on top of them, and works tirelessly to topple arrogance from its perch.

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Hell Is For Children traces the exploits of a modern-day Holden Caulfield named Pendel Haight as he tears through the lives of everyone who loves him in this blistering social media experiment by Jose Nation.

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Having a problem picking sides? No worries, Jose has enough opinions to go around. Find out what to think about a diverse range of topics by clicking above. Delicate sensibilities should steer clear.

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The vibe for everything Jose is New York City, and nothing communicates life in NYC like the unique experience of riding the rails of the subway. Visit the Jose Subway Tumblr feed and groove on it.

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Listen To Jose Nation Tear It Up

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About Jose Nation

strip1aJose Nation, a resident of Brooklyn, NY, attempts to rock on a regular basis. He drinks beer, eats meat, listens to rock music, and until recently could be seen behind the drum kit for the explosively popular NYC band the Shallow Divers.

Times have changed.

Jose was crushed to witness the band grow apart over the years, but has spiritually regrouped and begun his musical aspirations anew as a hotter than all-fucking-get-out solo act.

Jose is the last of the truly renascenceian men. Just as adept with the pen as he is blazing the neck of his Fender Strat, Jose smokes a trail of pure, epic, cultural madness as he smacks the shit out of what you think pop culture is supposed to be.

When the others zig, Jose zags…and vise-versa. Anything you place upon a pedestal, Jose will knock to the ground and tear from it the mask of bleak hypocrisy keeping you bound in empty allegiance.

The things you love, Jose scorns. And through his scorn, he frees you.

And is it easy, this freedom? Does it taste the way you remembered? Or is there a bitter undertone not recalled from the dickless days of your youth?

Don’t let Jose catch you crying. He was the first to tell you how badly freedom sucks.

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Reach out and touch Jose