“Once upon a time, this writer, still a wet-behind-the-ears thrash aficionado, met his first brother-in-metal. He was a lanky fellow who’d rattle his neighbors’ windows with sessions of Cannibal Corpse and hit the pits so hard he’d be out of class for a week. So strong was our bromance that I cut my very first class to hit my first real show with him — I even had a beer (underage!) — what a rebel I was. I owe him, specifically his deification of Glen Benton, for a good portion of my listening habits.” Beers, Benton, bromance, Battlestar Galactica.
