
The Case for Antiguruism
In the winter of 1979, I followed the Sex Pistols to San Francisco. I sat in the balcony at Winterland massively choked up. Not because of the band, (in fact the prize that night belonged to The Avengers, not the Sex Pistols,) but because there were thousands of leather clad, pogoing punk rockers. At long last, and surely for the first time in my life I had found my people. I belonged…. Read More»