Rotten
This is the first word in the title to John Lydon’s autobiography that I have started reading. The remainder of the title is not politically correct enough for some of my readers, so I shall not print it. I think that Lydon and I could be very good friends. He and I share a fondness for rebelling against institutionalized ideologies, even ideologies that we helped to create. He believes in individualism; individualism to a fault. So, I’m not saying that individualism is the mode of being that is exactly right, I’m just saying that I am sympathetic to that attitude.
John writes that he grew up in a slum in the Finsbury Park neighborhood of London. His entire family lived in a one bedroom apartment with no indoor bathroom. Surprisingly, he had a fondness for children and worked at a day care center in his teenage years. He was also a responsible older brother, feeding and changing the diapers of his younger siblings. He also had a surprisingly good relationship with his parents, rather than being the type of guy whose young adulthood was based on rebelling against his parents. He talks about the massive riots between opposing soccer fans over there. That is something that I have never experienced. There are also pictures of him with long hair.
Cool,
I.C.