Maarten wrote some time back about a phenomenon in music we call “ear worms,” though I cannot locate that specific piece. I’ve been suffering a bad case lately. Two songs have haunted me, one that I resent, the other that is just fun.
The one I resent is “Paul” McCartney, the original Paul, singing “For No One” from their 1966 album Revolver. It is a haunting melody about losing a lover, that devastating feeling most of us know when after deep emotional involvement, we simply don’t matter anymore. Nothing can be done but get over the pain and move forward.
A commenter, Den, some time back suggested that I watch the movie Give My Regards to Broad Street, put out in 1984, written (supposedly) by “Paul” McCartney.” I say “supposedly” because I have no belief in the man’s integrity, knowing as I do that there are two of them. A lot of great songs have come our way from this pair, but the question I ask is that even if we assume Paul McCartney wrote that stuff, well then which one?
For a change of pace, I am putting on my energy healer hat for the time being. I offer this post today to help uplift minds, bodies, and spirits, on this sunny Sunday afternoon as I take a brief in-breath from all the dismal narratives, of which I often contemplate, analyze, and discuss. This soundtrack, featuring a very talented sound healer and medicine woman named Vylana, resonates deeply within me, and perhaps it may for you . . .
For those who may want to learn more about sound healing:
I spent part of this morning reading the Wikipedia page on Bill Maher. To the left is a photo of him in his early twenties. I look back on such hair styles with a sense of “presentism,” that we should not judge past styles, even things like mullets, as uncool. They made sense at the time. But I must say, the look does not become Maher, who seems just a tad dorky.
Where am I going with this, you wonder? The photo above is said to be not one of Bill Maher, but rather a British rock star who faked his death in 1975, Pete Ham. He was a lead singer and “songwriter” for the group Badfinger. But I look at that photo and think “I see you, you son of a bitch, Maher. I see you. You cannot hide from me.
We are on the Amalfi Coast today, having down time. We are meeting our daughter for dinner later this evening, and the town of Almalfi is just wall-to-wall shops and tourists, so inside is better than outside. So I have been laying here on the bed looking at old photos of the Beatles, trying to figure out the Paul/Mike dynamic.
A reader suggested that I take a look at Charlie Sheen as being a Matt Damon Batch member, and I didn’t have to look long. There are certain characteristics that immediately jump out at me, among them the part on the left side of the head, the square jaw, and what has to be considered ruggedly handsome features of leading man quality.
I start from the basis of the theory that James Paul McCartney is dead since September 1966 and that he was intentionally.
I do not get involved in theories such as, many doubles, twin brother or that he is alive. Nor do I get involved in comparisons of faulized photos that flood the web or in declarations of the same faul who does not know their own history. All this has no chance of integrating into the context of the environment that surrounded the Beatles until 66 and has prevailed to this day, which explains why the lie is still valid.
A premeditated death must have a motive, a cause. It’s a matter of thinking, who has the power to keep a lie for so many years. Faul alone could never have done it. He was only fortunate in having some resemblance to the victim, he was selected, his reward was adjudging property, money and fame of a deceased. And he keeps working for them.
The intellectual authors are those who have much to gain, and for them winning is not money, it is power. They have their plans and if some get in these, they eliminate them. The world is full of these examples.
The music industry is just one of the many ways they use to achieve their desires. They just have to find those who have the potential to serve their plans.
In those days the plan was to manipulate the youth, with music and drugs to instill ideologies.In this context the Beatles were found when they became famous and were targeted. First they would involve them in any way and make them try LSD. Three of them gave in and were caught, but not one of them. The result is PID. (Salvador Leopoldo Vanda Soler)
I just got done with an interesting journey this morning and yesterday, fueled by commenters on the post below. I’ll go through the links one by one, and urge you to follow my path for your own entertainment. Otherwise, I will summarize.
440 vs 435: Tyrone took us to this link. His comment was in part
“Separating emotion from critical function is the mandate of all pop culture, corporate division. “
That’s an important insight. I have long avoided advertising in all forms for that very reason, that the object of advertising is to distract us with one message while subtly inserting another. Of course, most often that “other” message is simply “buy this product.” The larger point is, however, that advertising is never straightforward. As one young ad executive told me once in a candid moment, the purpose of advertising is to get us to change our behavior. TV has long been the best medium for dispensing this message and altering our behaviors, as we are in a mild hypnotic state while watching.
I had fun with this video. At twenty minutes in length it asks for more of your time than you are likely willing to give, so if that is the case, jump ahead to minute 7:00 where Thoughty2 discusses modern songwriting. He credits most of the big hits of our era to two men, a Swede named Max Martin, and American Lukasz Gottwald, or Dr. Luke. Sure enough, a quick search shows that these two men are acknowledged to be behind many hundreds of songs.
Thoughty2 talks about many other aspects of our modern music scene, why the tunes and lyrics seem so mediocre, why LOUDNESS drowns out lack of quality. Last year my wife and I were in a station on a mountain side in Switzerland waiting for a tram. We had about forty minutes before it arrived. Even though we were the only people there, loudspeakers were blaring popular tunes. It was horrible! I now consider it to have been a near-death experience (NDE). I had to leave the building.