I was born H. Allen Pulley II on July 22, 1972 at a Catholic Hospital in
Downtown Boston Massachusetts. I was the youngest of three children.
Both of my parents were affiliated with Boston University. My Mother was
Assistant Dean of minority student affairs and my Father was a graduate
student of Theology. We lived in the city on Commonwealth Avenue.
Later that year we moved to West Newton, a few miles away. The
following spring we moved to Greenville, New Hampshire near the
Canadian border. Although I spent a lot of time there throughout my
childhood and early adult life, I never really considered New England my
home.
In 1975 my family moved to western Pennsylvania. Although we
didn't know it at the time, It was the beginning of the end. The following
year my parents were divorced. They were both originally from North
Carolina, having met on campus at Livingstone College. Although I
vacillated between them, I eventually came back  to North Carolina with
my mother and two sisters. We lived near Gaston College between the
small towns of Dallas and High Shoals. I spent the majority of my
childhood between there and Pennsylvania with my Father and half
Brother. Beginning with the early eighties, I developed a fascination with
music. I had a good voice but otherwise not musically inclined. I learned
to play a few instruments, but I was not dedicated enough to become
great. I collected 45's and played them on a turntable in my room. I
played any type of music I could get my hands on. By age 10, I became
a vocalist. I sang in competitions until I was twelve. But I grew tired of
constant rehearsal and performance. I stopped singing during puberty,
which is a critical time in voice training. It was the single biggest mistake I
ever made. In 1984, I would hear an album that would change
everything. It was the debut album from RUN-DMC. My friends and I
realized that we could make records
from records. I still followed other
styles; ska, punk rock, reggae, electronic, etc. I was in tune to anything
that was underground, away from the mainstream. In 1985 nothing was
more underground than Rap. In 1986 our hip hop group released two
singles and two B-sides on an independent label. After three years of
performing in high school gymnasiums, festivals and amusement parks, I
wanted to return to my musical and artistic heritage. I fell into an "artistic
phase". I formed my own band, nailed quilts to the walls of my bedroom,
and cut a five song demo. Although I had been writing stories since I was
a small child, I suddenly became proficient. Poetry and song became
part of my arsenal. I was a high school senior in 1990. I won the national
honor society essay award, I was selected for the future entrepreneurs
of America, I had my first article published and won a freelance writing
contest for a music magazine; all in the same year. It seemed as if I was
about to begin a remarkable career. Then everything began to change.
Ambition completely escaped me. I was anti-establishment, but I was also
anti-everything else. Every attempt at College, Jr. College or Tech
school ended in disarray. I made decent grades, but I was bored,
agitated and restless. I had no direction or drive. Every other year I was
a drop out. I switched majors five times. I turned to music, as I often
would, and started to DJ; the way I used to in high school and Jr. High. I
was a local success. I was periodically on the radio and briefly had my
own show. Rapidly becoming an underground sensation only fueled my
real passion; writing and producing film. When an opportunity came in
1996 to direct a music video for a local band, I jumped on it. The
entertainment animal had its hooks in me. I did not want to do anything
else. That summer I started a small production company, called
Soundboy Records. My main focus was music, but I desperately wanted
to learn filmmaking. I finally finished my international business degree in
1998. The next spring I threw all caution to the wind and enrolled in film
school. I was 26 years old. At first it seemed as if I could make it work. I
was no stranger to hardship and sacrifice. But when my resources finally
ran out I had nowhere to turn. It was an extremely bitter disappointment.
For the next year I thought about what my next move should be. Feeling
as if my career was over before it even began, I turned to the only thing I
had left,
Soundboy; the company I had started just three years prior.
Our home base was a record store In Eastland Mall in Charlotte, NC.
The label itself and accompanying magazine generated enough revenue
for me to purchase some camera equipment. Together with my film
school textbooks, four years worth of screenplays and friends as foolish
and reckless as myself, I began to make independent film. The first was

free radicals, 1999 a documentary of  life in filmmaking, pro
skateboarding and raising hell in general, followed by
the ides of march, 2000. The next, was one of my proudest. I colected
10 hours of footage from WWII in order to produce
World Warrior, 2001, a film in my natural style of music video that I felt
most comfortable with at the time. Just before its release in the spring of
that year, the circumstances associated with being independent began
to overwhealm me. It appeared that even without having a successful
film under my belt, I was still regarded as as an obvious "threat" to the
establishment. But I come from a family of fighters, rebels and
revolutionaries. Being methodical has made me relentless. I pulled it
together that summer. I wrote a group of essays called
the Glint of Bayonets 2001 and began to try to get a grip on my life.
Then in September, on the eleventh, I was watching morning TV,
something very rare for me
but there was an interview with a guy who
wrote a book on Howard Hughes. Suddenly, they broke in with a report
that a plane had hit on of the WTC towers. Even though it had just
happened, even though no eyewitness at that point said they saw a
plane, even though nothing like that had ever happened anywhere, they
already had a news helicopter broadcasting images of a hole in the
tower (which was disproportionate to one a 767 would make) yet no
plane crash debris on the ground or outside of the tower. It was surreal.
Something about it was wrong, very wrong. A little while later I saw
something even more ridiculous. There was a lady eyewitness on the
phone live with the morning TV anchors. As the television audience is
seeing what they believe is a jet crashing into the other tower, the lady
screams and shouts that there was another explosion. She never
mentioned a plane. The NBC anchors tell her it was a plane. She said
she just saw an explosion. They hung up on her. A little while later, even
though no steel and concrete building in the history of the world had
ever collapsed from fire, including the one in Iran that was struck by a
crashing 737, the towers began to fall. I realized I was witnessing one of
the biggest travesties in the history of mankind. I had always been a
revolutionary, but now the ideal was cemented. Never again would I
believe in the consensus of mass media or the public at large. The
following month,     I committed to making films, making It my top priority. I
changed the name of the company to Soundboy America. I spent the
next year writing, unable to shake the questions in my head about the
supposed attack. As the country fell deep into depression, I followed.
None of my writing projects seemed to break through. In the fall of 2002 I
met people who would become critical to my career. They didn't fully
understand me, but they supported me and gave me confidence, and
that was enough. Gradually things improved. In 2003 I turned to spoken
word, and published
the glint of bayonets, the book of essays and prose
from two years before. In 2004, I decided to record some of the tracks
and realesed it on my own label. It was called
Infusion:Charlie and Me,
2004. I began to tour with poetry groups and perform live in the art
circuit.        I was in the best physical and mental shape of my life. I shot
some screen tests for my first independent short,
lady luck, 2004 and
learned animation. Despite the attention and minor critical acclaim, I
could not complete a breakout project. It appeared that I was destined to
live my entire life as "the next big thing". In early 2005, I finally had a
viable idea. I was planning to make a movie about a civil war regiment
from North Carolina. Gradually it became a movie about symbolism.
Then, it became a movie about the history of my family. I spent all that
year filming it.
Freedom vs. Liberty, 2005 in its long awaited premiere
was watershed for me. I became disciplined, organized and professional.
The next year brought a feeling of exhaustion. I decided to take a short
break from film to do some corporate work to make some money. Much
to everyone's surprise but me, it did not make me happy. During this
period of disillusionment, I was bombarded by fans of my now infamous
9/11 blog to make a film. That summer I capitulated. It was warm work at
first, then I began to wonder if it was a mistake.
the Big Takeover, 2006
has proven to be my most successful film to date. I do not measure my
success by the commercial success of my films, but on how they are
received by those I respect, and how I feel about myself when they are
complete. I understand now what I did not when I began, that I am a
threat to the establishment, because my integrity is not for sale, at any
price. I am not driven by ideology, I am driven by a search for the truth. If
I die tomorrow, or as the old folks say, "if tomorrow is my great getting up
morning", then I will die knowing then no man ever owned or controlled
me. The things I sacraficed and went without were as matter of course.
Since I started making films I have become an existentiallist and a
pacifist, which is the definition of a true Christian. If you must judge me,
do it not on who you think I am, but what I made out of my life.
I know at the very least, whatever happens from now on,
I am and always will be the Singular Soundboy.

Skip Pulley, Soundboy America
My Industry Bio & Resume
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