The Muse gig campaign was a Stonewaller. With great inspiration we laid a trail of destruction in our wake, living off the land, taking no prisoners before triumphing without any casualties. We had reached our goal within a few songs. In front of us, swelling as big as a carpet burn, stood the mighty legions of fans of the medieval torture instrument. They would be a more formidable foe.
Our numbers were only three: Chibber, Steff and me, sometimes less is more as stealth can win out in a crowd of 10,000. None of us knew the difference between tactics and strategy, all we knew was that our objective was to get to the front row. The front row is the ultimate in concert-going. Continue reading “The War Journal : Three Spartans”