The seventy years of Bruce Springsteen, a Ulysses version of country & western

That day from New Jersey he saw a dark plume of grey against the sky, as if the city itself, spewing a volcano of wickedness. A few hours after the attack on the Twin Towers, Bruce Springsteen was in the car. He was going to take the kids to school. At the traffic light, it was a machine. The man who was driving turned around, recognized him and pulled down the window. He said: “now we need you”. And he did not pray, returned back to work, for the umpteenth of its continuous rebirth. Here, Springsteen is exactly this, one of which the world needs, a hero without stain, a honest and kind warrior who uses his Fender like a laser sword of the army of the good, a preacher on a mission for the account of causes beyond their control.