The Germs were always the Doors of punk rock, with Crash its Jim Morrison — a charismatic but self-obsessed terminal junkie who brutally used those he hoodwinked, burning them with cigarettes and ruling their lives. If Crash had been ugly, then you wouldn't know the words to "Lexicon Devil," but Crash proved for the punks (as Morrison proved for the hippies) that they could be as beauty-obsessed as the teenyboppers they mocked.
Fatwa! For continuing this foul cult, for inspiring yet another generation of teens to stencil Germs logos on their jackets (by inviting a cast member of ER to join the pantheon of punk), you have earned the wrath of rock! In the rock afterlife, may Darby Crash be your overseer.
It is written.
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