...and the fury
...or how the bastard is proud of his idols
the bastard is so happy. not just happy because i had some high tech bbq for dinner with some pleasant company. not just happy that he can go to a bar and throw back a gin and tonic while "rudy can't fail" was playing on the jukebox (i secretly pogoed to myself for a sec). i'm happy because john lydon answerred me. rather he didn't answer the bastard directly, more like he lived up to my expectations.
OK QUICK BACKGROUND: the bastard woke up one morning in his teen years and forsook everything he had listened too up until that point. finding the music that he had listened to up until that moment just pointless. void of meaning. this was roughly after ...and justice for all by metallica came out and i had been listening to a lot of punk. i decided that everything else had no real value and i focused on it. punk was pure (i was young), it was raw (i was stupid), and it made me feel like it could enact more change than anything coming out of L.A at the time (i was idealistic). now the official bastard works fact checker that is my darling elder brother will remind me that it went down different, and he will no doubt be right. but, the bastard is a romantic. a spitting and cussing romantic that wants to be in love with the world again but he'll settle for romanticizing the past. you'll never get it back anyway, so why not polish it from time to time so that it looks all perty?
anyway, late last year the sex pistols were nominated into the rock and roll hall of fame and i pontificated on that as well then. i had wonderred what would this man, john lydon, who i idolized as a teenager do with this newfound faux recognition from his "peers". he spat on it. here's the note:
you know, people find that when you get older, you get more and more disillusioned by the things that you believe in as they get exposed to the elements. age breeds apathy for the things you once held dear. i know alot of what i was is a load of crap these days and i'm wiser for it. but for a chance one little thing wasn't and tonight i'm happy for it. thanks lydon. thanks for reminding an old bastard that the kid he used to be believed in the right shit. goodnight.