Postcard from edgy Portland

It is very good to be removed from party politics, TV news, newspapers and radio and Huffington Post, but reality takes a while to sink in. We have to avoid fake reality and then realize that it is fake before we can begin to see things as they really are. Time offers perspective. Reading helps.

These days when I am driving Denver traffic and turn on my radio, I enjoy listening to Rush Limbaugh – I don’t care about his content, which is designed to manipulate a broad class of potentially thoughtful but utterly clueless men (yes, men). (Yes, clueless.) His tone is appealing – he is older, and has been publicly savaged and ridiculed by “the left,” but seems mellowed and even occasionally insightful. I recommend him to any who are disenchanted and searching for answers. He doesn’t have any, but he does serve as pleasant elevator music while you move on to your next destination.

I have been wondering about the post below about “Paul/Mike” McCartney turning up now and then as “custodian” at his childhood home. What is striking is how pedestrian he is in appearance and attitude, joking, winking, sharing a secret with us. He’s not wealthy or surrounded by adoring fans nor is he sporting an MBE medal. He’s just a Liverpool bloke. He’s been retired for decades. He cannot help himself in appearing on camera, just as John Lennon returned from death to film Let Him Be. And it is comforting to know that they are just men who were hired to play parts, and who, hopefully got a nice pension out of the deal. Judging by their appearances and circumstances, these are not wealthy men at all.

They are winking at us, and in a friendly non-sinister manner, telling us that it was all for shits and giggles. And I am deeply grateful to both of them. I would love now for Sir Paul to come down off his perch, acknowledge his twin, and maybe they could even sit down and play “The Two of Us” together, one right and the other left-handed. I just realized this morning what that song was about. I wonder who wrote it.

One gratifying aspect of blogging is to meet some nice and really insightful people, who know their own names and stop by here on occasion. Without permission I am going to reproduce two comments from “Tyrone McCloskey,” perhaps a real name, but who really cares? Content matters most.

Implications? Perhaps “Paul” said something and this is his punishment (for those who think like television writers)- Or, the Beatles drew crowds that they didn’t deserve, the hype drawing the kids in live (nobody could hear them play and so they wouldn’t know if they were any good), but the TV and film stuff was understood by the actors to be just a role for which they mimed recordings made by others- They never felt the power because the forces that we thought were swirling around them never reached this troupe- The audiences on film and video could have just as easily been paid extras- (Sinatra a decade and a half earlier went through the same paces with paid bobbysoxers screaming and crying on cue) They never expected royalties, just a pension, and the gig finally ended- This may explain their casual reaction to the mania and their ability to crack wise so easily- None of them took any of it seriously because they knew it wasn’t real- Court historians have been paid since the dawn of writing to fabricate, fabricate, fabricate… so whatever their backstory, front-story, it all came through corporate owned media so all narrative tropes are fair game- Resting…

And later in response to another man who has been all over attacking the notion Beatles were not as they were portrayed to us:

GvdH- I was born in 1958- I marinated in the Featles and the goddamned 60’s- You couldn’t escape every detail of the 4 mop top’s lives if you tried- It was rammed down our throats-Certainly no one wants their heroes outed as frauds, but why are some people chosen over others to succeed? It is never just talent- It’s talent that fits a favored agenda of the culture creators, even as that talent, if it exists at all, needs a firm guiding hand- And that agenda always serves their best interests, not ours- Great music that midwifed the mind destroying drug culture is what the Beatles handlers were after and they succeeded –

Another thing the Beatles were designed for was to create a consensus market for pop music- Thousands upon thousands of musicians followed their lead in pursuit of similar wealth and fame- The market pushed out variance and guided a relatively small number of acts to the charts and the playlists of the corporate owned radio and television networks- 50 years on, look what we have rammed down our throats today: lip synching CGI tramps like Taylor Swift and those other synthetic creations that teach pre-adolescent girls that stripper culture is the highest aspiration- For boys, it’s crossdressing and/or ghetto warriors- There won’t be any chance for stable families to grow out of that muck- The population will continue to shrink in the west- But then, population replacement (hello Syria, welcome to Germany) goes back to the Old Testament, and likely well before that-

Enjoy yourselves … I am in Portland for a few days. It is a strange place, saturated in faux-pwoggy causes, hairstyles, and Boulder, Colorado-like smug self-satisfaction. Again, so nice to be removed from it all.

4 thoughts on “Postcard from edgy Portland

  1. Please do post and distribute liberally- The name is real, tho’ the guy I was named after was actually named Hugh O’Neill, first (or third) Earl of Tyrone- How the name Tyrone got into the African American community is not clear, but I imagine it starts on the plantations in the new world where Irish slaves preceded the Africans by a short time- Miscegenation, place of origin and “Tyrone” being perhaps a praenomen laced with defiance may have helped popularize the name: O’Neill came this close (thumb/forefinger emoticon) to driving the Brits out of Ireland for good, so he’s something of a hero to the victims of the Empire- So too, unnamed slaves, once emancipated, were given high-falootin’ names, ie, Augustus, Toussaint, Tyrone… anyway, I’m a pasty faced, blue eyed white guy who loves his beer and the sound of his own voice… and the Beatles, though listening to their music may be as bad as smoking if you listen to these guys:


    1. Sorry if I took liberty citing your comments without permission, but I assumed since the words were public and attributed already, I was within legal bounds. I’ll be more careful.

      I read that posrflaviana piece with an eye on the craftsmanship. Just as I know these four (five) Liverpudlians did not put together the incredibly clue-laden cover of Sgt. Pepper, so too do I doubt that Lennon wrote the words to Walrus or Lucy … These guys had help, if not outright supervision. You make that point as well, saying that far from royalties, they might get a public pension out of the deal. That’s why in my first draft of the Faul paper I speculated that original Paul wanted out, as the enterprise was so corrupt. Speculation is a pointless game without more insight that I had at that time.

      Our names are often convolutions … Mine, Tokarski, is Tokar with “ski” or “sky” added after arrival here from Austria Hungary, now Czech Republic or thereabouts. Add to that that I am half Irish. I too enjoy beer, so much I do not drink it. Otherwise I’d weigh in fifty pounds heavier than I am.


  2. My last name is actually an alias- In the late eighteenth century, the crown decided they needed more wool than flax and so most of the population of Londonderry county (now Derry) were out of work- The aristocratic popinjays in the Irish salons decided this was a good time to test the mettle of their British overlords and launched the Wolfe Tone rebellion, the unemployed peasantry leading the way- My clan, styled Kahane (a variation on O’Kane) were wiped out save two adolescent boys who were smuggled to the south down to Cork- They changed their names to an off-shoot of the family, Closkey, and their sons became MacCloskey, and theirs, McCloskey- I suppose I’m still technically on the lam from the Lizard Queen’s men-


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