God forbid someone call me out on the things I said with the utmost seriousness in my early 20s, the things I drew the hardest of lines on: the person I'd never be, the things I'd never do, and so on. Who can live up to that?
And, more to the point perhaps, why do the same to someone like Bob Dylan?
Call it recording technology's most baffling "problem": the strange, beautiful, and irreplaceable way it collapses time. It's entirely possible that you began your Sunday hearing Dylan admonish that "money doesn't talk, it swears" from Bringing It All Back Home's "It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding" and ended it by seeing him spit nonsense like "Is there anything more American than America?"