Broken Hallelujah

Taj Mahal is back in Berkeley. He stalks the street like a horse, striding down Shattuck Avenue with a thoroughbred's grace. In other places, this mountain of a man in white pants, tropical shirt and straw hat might draw some attention, but on the streets of Berkeley, he doesn't rate a second glance. He dismisses the Berkeley he finds today with a single word.

"It's Yupsterella-land," he croaks. "You know, like Cinderella, but it's Yupsterella." read more