Once upon a time,
Apollo and the Muses descended from Mount Helicon to check how music had developed, since Orpheus destroyed his lyra. They hiked from town to town, region to region, land to land, and found out about every style and every fashion mankind had produced. One evening, however, Apollo assembled the jolly group in a circle around him and spoke to them solemnly: "Muses! What is your impression? What is music about these days?" The Muses kept themselves in shy silence first, then erupted one after the other: "Boring!" - "Crap!" - "Disgusting!" - "Puke!", and so forth and so on. Then there was silence again. Apollo nodded quietly, then said: "What are we going to do?", and like one voice, the Muses answered: "Let us give them better music and call it punk rock." Thus punk rock was given to mankind, and everyone, Gods as well as men, were happy. Yet some years later, people began to forget about the lovely kind of punk rock that the Muses had invented to save the earth from drowning in the waters of musical boredom, others imitated the style, but never reached the original. That was why the Torpedo Bones, among others, made up their minds, gave up everything they had (which was not that much, anyway) and dedicated their lives to the maintenance of punk rock. Unfortunately, one of their members got lost on the toilsome way. Maybe he was abducted by extraterrestrials to provide them with information on our species, maybe he simply forgot the way to the rehearsal site. Anyway, those remaining will not cease to hoist the ragged banner of punk rock.
For the sake of punk rock...