The punks reminded me of armadillos: people wearing some kind of armor to protect themselves from the iridium tentacles trying to grab them. Such a thing as the apocalyptic-end-of-the-world-is-near-and-come-on-I'm-ready. You know, like: "Since it has to happen, then come on, I'm ready, throw up on me, so, no problem, I'm washable." There was something individually apocalyptic about punk… a personal apocalypse, a hardening.