God is dead.
I needed some good news to counterbalance Bruce’s Super Bowl sacrilege (in terms of cultural desecration, cutting a verse from Born to Run is akin to cutting a chapter from The Grapes of Wrath). This wasn’t it… Recently, I tried to track LT down for a story I wrote. Apparently he only communicates these days via intermittent text messages. And now he’s a dancer. Awful.
