February 8, 28 J.E.
If somehow you've not yet come to the conclusion that I'm a little "different" than most people, then you've got to be kind of "different", too. If the collection of pet tarantulas didn't strike you as odd, you may be odd. If my fanatical ant-fanaticism doesn't seem unusual, you're definitely not usual. If resolute bitterness toward my evil ex-girlfriends (and insistent denial of such) isn't a little eccentric, then you're a whack job. I do have one more confession, though, that should make even the most liberal, bin Laden-embracing, lovey-dovey sissy want to shun me.
And that shocking confession is...
I never really liked the Beatles.
It's not that they're BAD or anything, and I went through a period in my youth where I just went along with the crowd and said I liked them. As I matured, though, I began to realize that none of their songs really thrilled me. I'm sure they were quite the historically significant band that had far-reaching influence on the music world, but it's just not my bag.
What got me thinking about this is the recent death of George Harrison. It was cancer (at least that what the MAN says). Now half of the Beatles are dead, both far below the average life expectancy. I guess being a Beatle isn't the way to immortality after all.
The retrospective on his life got me thinking though. How is it that 4 relatively normal guys became a bunch of total freaks? All accounts claim that they were just a group of average joes, and apparently superstardom is responsible for their spiral into the dark, brutal world of veganism, communism, and Hari-Krishnaism.
Let's start chronologically, shall we?
First, you have John Lennon, who was so cruelly plugged by ol' Mark David (cruelly, because the bastard couldn't spare ONE bullet to take out Ono). Lennon, as most of us know, was a commie who had a hard-on for Mao Zedong. Somehow being rich and famous makes people want to make other people give all their money to the poor.
Then we have Mr. Harrison. Hare Krishna. Converted when he went to India. Must be something in the water. At least he spared us from seeing him in a orange robe in an airport. When he was stabbed last year, he reportedly ran to his front porch shouting, "Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!" Why could he pick a less freaky cult to belong to? I hear the Branch Davidians have some openings...
Now on to the living ones. Paul McCartney, the vegan and animal-rights freak. So bitterly ironic that his wife died of boob cancer, the same ailment that veganism is supposed to stop. If there wasn't a dead person involved, I'd release a hearty, "Ha ha!" But that would be mean.
And then there's Ringo. Poor, normal-seeming Ringo. Wasn't he supposed to be the "weird" one back in the day? Now look at him. To all appearances, he looks like a normal dude. If he is weird, he at least has the good taste not to trumpet it to the whole world, sitting smugly in his mansion, secure in his belief that his beliefs are superior to everyone else's. He may do that, but I haven't heard anything to that effect, and that's fine by me.
It's sad, but that's what fame and fortune do to people. Perhaps I should ask the government for money so I can investigate why this happens. My examinations will focus on Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Elizabeth Hurley...