Friday , November 6, 2009

All-Time Top 5 Reasons Why "Hello Goodbye" by The Beatles is the Best Video Ever Made

I. THE DANCE SEQUENCE, THE WAVING-AT-THE-CAMERA BITS, AND EVERYTHING BEFORE, AFTER & IN-BETWEEN

What I mean is: If you've never seen the "Hello Goodbye" video before, you should probably watch it now, as it's maybe the most happy-making thing you'd could possibly do right this instant. What I also mean is: Imagine what a more beautiful world it would be if everybody took "Hello Goodbye" Video Breaks instead of coffee breaks or cigarette breaks? If that was the way you "recharged your batteries"? Like, in the middle of some shitty-hectic day at the office, your pal Susie from accounts receivable would buzz you for a quick chat and you'd be all, "Yeah, cool, just come with me while I watch the 'Hello Goodbye' video" - and then you'd do just that, and afterward you'd both feel totally refreshed and ready to take on the day! And after work you'd probably still feel amazing enough to plant pink daisies in a community garden or calculate an algorithm for world peace. Try it for a week and see what happens. You can probably drink your coffee and/or smoke your cigarette while you watch, even. (Liz)

II. THREE MINUTES AND THIRTY-THREE SECONDS OF RINGO STARR BEING MY FAVOURITE BEATLE

For a long time, I claimed that Ringo looks like a "robot mouse" in the "Hello Goodbye" video, but I have since changed my opinion, because 1) I think it's dumb to write about robots, and 2) I think "mice" is a really pedestrian choice of rodent to say a Beatle, or anybody, bears resemblance to. The truth is, Ringo looks like a gopher in the "Hello Goodbye" video. Actually, he looks like a "tot gopher", which is a term I just invented to describe Ringo Starr's physical appearance in the "Hello Goodbye" video, especially at 1:47, when he shakes his head and smiles. I mean this as an extreme compliment. Also, on "Hello Goodbye" day, Ringo Starr was having the greatest hair day of his entire life.

Richie's such a champ for being the Beatle who agreed to wear the pink Sgt. Pepper suit. He works it. Dudes should take sartorial cues from "Hello Goodbye" Ringo more often, and wear tons of pink. Once, I was on a drug, and I was hallucinating in my head, and I imagined the Ringo album cover came to life, only instead of "RINGO", it said "RINGO IS PINK." It only now occurs to me what my subconscious was going for. Neat! (Laura Jane)

"Ringo, I Love You", by Bonnie Jo Mason, AKA Cherilyn Sarkisian, AKA CHER

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Sunday , October 25, 2009

Liz & LJ Investigate: Who's the Bigger Beardo, John or Paul?

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LIZ: A few Sundays ago Emily "Switchfoot" Richmond and I were hanging out on Bobbie, drinking Tecate and eating oversized chocolate chocolate chip cookies. "I don't think Paul McCartney is sexy!" Switchfoot shouted suddenly, throwing an oversized chocolate chocolate chip cookie at my head. "I don't either!" I responded wide-eyedly, my mouth full of cookie that'd just bounced off my nose. "Unless he's got a beard," I added. "Paul + beard always equals sexy." Then Emily nodded in agreement, and we each shotgunned a fresh can of Tecate and went to Chipotle to buy salad. The salad was soooo good, and we also ate chips with guacamole.

Cut to two or something Fridays later and I'm on the phone with LJ, who asks: "Do you think Paul McCartney is sexy?" "No, I don't!" I responded wide-eyedly, my mouth full of cookie that'd just bounced off my nose. "Unless he's got a beard," I added. "Paul + beard always equals sexy." Then Laura told me I was disgusting, and then after that she emailed me a link to a video of Bearded Paul McCartney singing "Let It Be," accompanied by the statement "Liz has Retarded Beatles Opinions." But I don't have retarded Beatles opinions! Sexiness is subjective, and Bearded Paul McCartney is just the bee's knees in my sexy book. With Pre-Beard Paul I've got this real innocent affection, a sort of pre-adolescent lovey-doveyness: I wanna hold his hand, and maybe neck a little on the couch with my parents safely sleeping upstairs, but that's about it. With Bearded Paul, I wanna hold his hand and more, but in a real romantic, in-love-for-life kinda way - me and him burning matches, lifting latches, and all the rest. It's a rare thing to gaze upon a man and realize, "Dear sir, I'm very interested in having emotionally profound marital relations with you," and I think it's really beautiful that I've found that in Bearded Paul. "Beautiful," as in "not disgusting." So there.

Ugly Beard Paul Singing "Let It Be":

LJ: Subjectivity is the spice of life, and, for the most part, it's pretty convenient how Barker and I have such wildly divergent tastes in dudes (not counting Michael Showalter). It's nice to know that no dude- except maybe Michael Showalter, who once came between us- will ever come between us. So: good. Goody good good, Elizabeth Barker. Take your Anthony Kiedis and your Benicio Del Toro and your Andrew Wilson. Zero judgment, my sister. But Bearded Paul? Bearded Paul?? BEARDED PAUL?!? Out of every Paul incarnation, you pick BEARD PAUL??? That is just so jacked. If it were the 1960s, and Paul McCartney was a friend of mine, and we'd hung out a bunch in '67, fallen out of touch for two years, and then re-hooked up in January of 1969, I would be aghast at how "retardedly disgusting" my old friend looked. I would grasp him by the forearm, look deep into his eyes, nod slowly, and say "Dude- you've really let yourself go."

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Sunday , September 27, 2009

"Getting Back To Where We Once Belonged," by Elizabeth Barker & Laura Jane Faulds

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INTRO. "THE VERSUS A" (Laura Jane)

The other night, I was talking to Elizabeth Barker on the telephone. We were talking about John Lennon, Paul McCartney, "dichotomies," and how "John v. Paul" is pretty much "The Ultimate Dichotomy." If you're ever trying to further your understanding of "good vs. bad" or "cool vs. lame," "sex vs. love" or "crazy vs. sane"- you may as well just spare yourself a whole lot of hassle, and examine the polarity in question through the "Lennon v. McCartney" lens. From Hamburg to HELP!, "Helter Skelter" to "How Do You Sleep?"- John and Paul already did most of the work for you.

That night, Barker was talking about how Philip Norman's seminal Lennon biog is called The Life, whereas the upcoming Paul McCartney mondo-bio is entitled A Life. Facetiously, Liz suggested that perhaps "The vs. A" is the most enlightening "John v. Paul"-specific opposition of all. We laughed, bantered, moved on, and later, hung up. Some hours passed, the night fell, I got bored, was alone. I got to thinking about "The vs. A," and, hilariously, reached the surprising conclusion that "The vs. A" actually does say (almost) everything about the "John v. Paul" dichotomy.

Paul McCartney as an individual is not particularly compelling. He's "just a guy." He's adorable and charismatic of course, but Paul's gift is for storytelling above all else. Paul's stories are golden. They are meticulously-crafted, and they are perfect. Paul songs sound like Paul (jaunty; well-rounded), but they're never about Paul. They are objects unto themselves.

John Lennon, on the other hand, is the object. John songs are haunting and disorderly, because John Lennon lived a haunted and disordered life. John songs are explicitly about what it felt like to be John Lennon on the day he wrote it; each one is imbued with the same beguile, neurosis and emotional intensity that makes John Lennon's life story so captivating within itself.

Paul McCartney is a genius because he wrote those songs; John Lennon was a genius because he wrote those songs. Paul McCartney nails it; John Lennon wings it. Paul McCartney was a Beatle, but John Lennon was The Beatles.

Perhaps Elizabeth Barker would beg to differ, but instead, she'll tell you a story...

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Wednesday , August 5, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: The Compleat Beatles Astrological Analysis

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I believe in astrology, but I don't only believe in astrology. Mostly, I believe in my belief system being "believe whatever you want," and if one of those beliefs is "believing in astrology," then I believe in that.

Another thing I believe is that, whether or not you believe astrology is real, astrology is real. It accounts for approximately one-twelfth of why any and/or everybody's life is the way it is. This belief applies even to the Beatles! I mean, really- the fact that the Beatles happened at all is so epically crazy-mazing that shouldn't it be proof enough that Zodio-Cosmic* action is active in the Universe?

Astrology is tons more than the shlock of schloppy Schlitz uptight, narrow-minded, short-sighted little hypocrites blindly believe it to be. I wish I could condemn half-assedly Wiccan NoCal soccer mommies and the horoscopes page of Cosmopolitan magazine to the deepest depths of Satan's harem for ruining astrology for the rest of us. The world is not just Twitter, public transit, and Big Gulps. It's also planets, moons, constellations, and eclipses. It's semi-naive to discredit the impact of cosmic flux upon our lives and liveliness. If everybody believed in astrology, we'd be way more attuned to the natural environment, and then maybe there wouldn't be an eco-crisis and/or a dumb economic recession that is presently fucking my, and everybody's, life/lives over.

Maybe that statement is one-twelfth true. But enough hemming and hawing; my moon's not in Whiny, it's in Abbey Road. Let's ASTRO-BEATLES it!!!!

*"Zodio-Cosmic= the astro-equivalent of "socio-economic."

I. HOW JOHN LENNON NARROWLY ESCAPED THE LIFE OF A MENTAL PATIENT

astrojohn.jpg No duhsville, John Lennon's sun sign is "Libra." John (October 9th, 1940) is the posterchild for the Libran temperament. Librans are imbalanced, quick-witted, unsettingly charismatic, and plagued by self-doubt. Anytime anybody ever asks me to explain Libras, I just say "John Lennon was a Libra. 'Nuff said." Then, I yell "BOOYAH!" and do that thing frat boys do where you shake your hand really fast and it makes a snapping noise. Just lying! I would never say "Booyah."

Second most importantly, about John Winston Lennon's astrological profile: his moon is in Aquarius. Generally, a person's moon sign is representative of his or her Internal Experience. Your moon sign tells the story of how you process and understand your Sun Sign Self. It's your "Dark Side of the Moon," as it were.

Having an Aquarius moon is supposedly kind of awesome, because Aquarius is all about sensitivity and perception and self-reflection. But it seems to me that John Lennon's getting stuck with an Aquarius moon was kind of shit breaks for him. Aquarius and Libra are the two flakiest, flightiest, spaciest signs of the whole Zodiac. A Libra-Aquarius would undoubtedly be inclined towards the conceptual in a pretty cool way- as was our John- but would also be entirely disconnected from life's most basic principles of common sense. The only thing that saved one twelfth of John Lennon from ending up in the loony bin is that he was an Aries Rising.

If your sun sign is you-you, and your moon sign is The Inner You, your rising sign (or, "ascendant") is your outer-you: the you that everybody else sees. Aries would be a killer ascendant to have, because Aries is the most straight-up, pro-active, "get what you want outta life, and fast!" sign of the Zodiac. Being an Aries Rising implies that you function most effectively from the outside in. Which sheds much light upon how a mad, madcap, irrational space cadet from a shit town in Northern England became one of the most influential cultural figures of the 20th Century.

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Wednesday , July 29, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: IF PEOPLE WERE BEATLES SONGS

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ABOVE: Starring Laura "Can I Take You Out to the Pictures?" Jane Faulds as Maxwell's Silver Hammer, Kat "Vibrating Bottle of Blue Nun Wine" as Long, Long, Long, Elizabeth "I Don't Care" Barker as Ticket to Ride, and Emily "Take it Eeeeeeaasy" RIchmond as Everybody's Got Something to Hide (Except Me and My Monkey)

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Figuring out which Beatle you'd be is a breeze. It's child's play, not to mention a walk in the park. It's practically an equation: loud-mouthed lunatics are Johns, cutesy egomaniacs are Pauls, pensive dweebs are Georges, and everybody else is a Ringo. A squared + B squared = Paul McCartney.

Figuring out your Spirit Animal is infinitely more satisfying than figuring out your Spirit Beatle- while there are only four Beatles to pick from, there are hundreds of thousands of millions of billions of animals! There are rarely Spirit Animal overlaps, unless you know a million people, which I don't. Once, Emily Richmond and I met a dude whose Spirit Animal was a black lamb surfing on lava! How many people in the world are black lambs surfing on lava? Only him, as far as I know. Having a Spirit Animal compounds your individuality, whereas having a Spirit Beatle indicates only that you are part of 25% of the population, which I bet you already knew.

But sadly, figuring out your Spirit Animal is so 2008. It's time to get over Spirit Animals, just like we all got over gladiator sandals and the Ultimate Fashion Challenge. "Figuring Out What Beatles Song You Would Be" is the "Figuring Out Your Spirit Animal" of 2009. It blends the self-reflective complexity of picking a Spirit Animal with the Beatles-relatedness of figuring out which Beatle you are! To quote Michael Showalter, Michael Ian Black, and David Wain: it's purrrrrrr-fect.

I. THE "IF PEOPLE WERE BEATLES SONGS" PRIMER, KIND OF

There is no one way to figure out what Beatles song you would be. Like Transcendental Meditation, it's hard. Like Primal Scream Therapy, it's worth it. Here are some tips, from Dr. Laura Jane, the expert:

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Wednesday , July 1, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: Some Notes on the Beatles' Respective "Sexinesses"

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One day, I will run out of things to say about The Beatles.

On that day, I will begin writing down everything I could possibly have to say about The Kinks. I will write feverishly and desperately. I will be scared for the well-being of my Future Self. I will use "writing about the Kinks" as a coping mechanism for "Having nothing to say about the Beatles anymore. Who am I?!?!?!"

Three weeks later, I will run out of things to say about The Kinks. I will have an intense emotional breakdown. I will feel purposeless. Then I'll get over it, learn a valuable lesson, grow as a person, and do one of two things:

1) Start writing about the Fiery Furnaces* a lot, or;

2) Become a novelist.

* You may remember that, at a point in time, I only liked four bands: The Beatles, The Kinks, Faust, and the Fiery Furnaces. Then, a few weeks ago, I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces came out. No it didn't. Liz Barker e-mailed me some weird code, and then I typed the code into a website, and it gave me I'm Going Away. Now I'm hot property, and all these people in my life are like always harassing me to e-mail them Fiery Furnaces mp3s and I'm like "Yo! Chill out! I can't be everything to everyone, okay? You only even care about the Fiery Furnaces at all because I forced you listen to them in the first place!" and then I lose track in my head of what FFs mp3s I've sent to who and stress out about it and like my life's really hard okay? Anyroad, my point is- I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces is really good. So good that Faust seem comparatively "not good at all," and, subsequently, have been knocked off the list.
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I remembered something today. It is that I have been writing about The Beatles for a long, long, long time.

When I was sixteen years old, I wrote a short story about what life would have been like if I had been born forty years earlier. According to my 16-year-old self, had I been born 40 years earlier, I would have moved to London in 1967, where I would "refuse to love boys, even the ones that [I] think are so drop dead thin amazing gorgeous," "feed stray cats soy milk," "take long walks at night and buy pot from young men with junked eyes on street corners and smoke joints as the sun comes up," "go to bars and drink amaretto sours and watch the corners of [my] eyes turn red," and, inevitably, have all three non-Ringo Beatles fall in love with me! (Actually, not counting the Beatles and stray cats parts, I was right on the money about who I'd be in my early twenties.)

At the time, it counted as my "best writing to date." Earlier this evening, I unearthed it. It was in a box.

This installment of The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles, focusing on my opinions toward each individual Beatle's respective "sexiness," will be written in collaboration with "16-Year-Old Laura's Short Story About the Beatles Falling in Love with Her."

The Beatles are the perfect band because they are composed of: one (1) sexy genius, one (1) sexy non-genius, one (1) non-sexy genius, and one (1) non-sexy non-genius. This piece is subtitled, "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Having Sex with the Beatles, but Were Afraid to Ask."

PART I. I WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH GEORGE HARRISON, AND FEEL GUILTY ABOUT IT

Oh, to be Laura "The Posterchild for Celibacy" Jane Faulds in this prodigious, lyrical summer of 2009! Feel flows, but does anything else?

Not really. I write a lot, and prefer my own company to yeah like anybody's. I make nonstop fun of my sexual inactivity, but would literally (and by "literally," I mean "literally") rather commit painful, barbaric suicide than subject myself to a "one night stand" with any last one of those nasty, perverted creeps called "dudes." Just as I saw with such stunning clarity that night a few weeks ago when I got too drunk at the Black Dice show and got lost stumbling home in the pouring rain: I'm just, like, this person, who, like, so, like, badly.... um, needs to be, like, LOVED?

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Sunday , June 28, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: The Young Person's Guide to the Kinks

Really, this article should be named "The Young Person's Guide to the Kinks: Opinions on 5 Kinks Songs I Have Yet to Opine About." However, I feel guilty enough as it is about clogging up poor Kat Asharya's fashion blog with all my weird Beatles worship business, and consequently, feel as though I should probably make the effort to keep my Kinks-opining to a minimum- until we get a book deal, at least.

The Kinks are my second-favourite band. I love them for a lot of reasons- mostly, because their songs are great. But when you're talking about your #2 band of all the bands there ever were, it must come down to more than songs. It comes down to emotional attachment, and one's ability to intellectualize said emotional attachment. I love the Kinks because they're nerdy, and always miss the mark- I relate to that. The Kinks had no chance at ever being the Beatles, the Stones, or the Who. You don't have to be mind-numbingly cool to be a great rock band, but you probably shouldn't be lame. The Kinks are lame, but it's a secret. People who don't know anything about the Kinks think they are like the Who- raucous and slutty: flaming, gnarly, proto-punk.

This is because: Dave Davies was kind of a skeeze, the name Kinks sounds like "kinky," and "You Really Got Me" is the jam of the century. But that's it. The rest of the Kinks is kinda drippy. Raymond "The Seventh Son of a Seventh Son" Davies writes music about Donald Duck, song publishers, and the colonization of Australia, then delivers his lyrics in a frilly, overly affected English accent. It is some of the best music in the world, but it's not for everybody, and I don't want it to be.

I listen to the Kinks a lot, but I'd never play the Kinks for anybody who didn't already like the Kinks of their own accord. Nothing brings out my Cancerian maternal instinct like the music of Ray Davies. I just want so badly to protect him! I am scared that I will play "Plastic Man" or "Do You Remember Walter?" or "Mr. Pleasant," and somebody will speak a word against him, and I will have to end the friendship over it. Doesn't really seem worth it, you know?

The Kinks' brilliance is unexpected. I used to think Ray Davies was not a genius; I was wrong. Of course Ray Davies is a genius! He's just a genius in the opposite way you'd expect him to be. He is a true sweetheart, and there are not enough sweethearts in rock music. I love that he is good. It is so much better to be sad and good than it is to be happy and bad.

Luckily for Ray Davies, I will one day become his concubine, and he will be happy and good! "Shangri-Laura Jane," he'll call me.

I. YOU REALLY GOT ME

Walking down the street listening to music too loud on headphones is my optimal state of existence. I love it so much that I have, at age twenty-four, accepted defeat, and fully succumbed to a life plagued by pulsatile tinnitus. There are many different ilks of "walking down the street listening to music too loud on headphones," but my favourite is definitely the "strutting" option. In this life, you have to strut. If you don't, you will never feel good about yourself. Never ever. I don't want your life to be like that. You need to listen to "You Really Got Me" too loud on headphones, and strut.

"You Really Got Me" is one of those tricky, fake-cool Kinks songs that confuses people into thinking the Kinks are raucous, drug-addicted rapists. But all you have to do to dispel that myth forever is watch Ray Davies perform it in the Youtube video embedded above. Have you ever seen a performer look more uncomfortable in your life? I haven't. He looks like he is mid-root canal. He looks like he is getting his front-teeth-gap fixed, with zero anaesthetic.

One my favourite boring, pointless thoughts to think about is how, in "You Really Got Me," Ray Davies sings, "See, don't ever set me free"; then, nine months later, he wrote a song called "Set Me Free." Was "Set Me Free" a conscious response to the lyric from "You Really Got Me," or does it merely serve as evidence of mid-sixties Ray Davies' limited vocabulary? I don't know. I just half-assedly leafed through X-Ray, which I read a year ago, in an attempt to find out, but then I finished my cigarette. Now I am writing this sentence. I suppose it is just one of those grand, unknowable mysteries of the Universe.

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Sunday , June 14, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: Firing Off on Revolver

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You have no idea how long it took me to come up with a punny headline for this piece that didn't sound like an allusion to masturbation! Which sucks, because I still think "Laura Jane Jerks Off to Revolver" would have been a great title.

Since my intense love for the Beatles is written both across and upon my arms, I end up talking to a lot of people about Their Beatles Opinions, which is occasionally annoying, but generally informative. My point? 7 out of 10 Beatles Opinionators deem Revolver their favourite Beatles album. Revolver is in no way my favourite Beatles album, but still- I can see how, if you weren't me, it could be. Revolver is most definitely the COOLEST Beatles album, so if you love the Beatles less than I do, which you probably do, why not "unload" (I mean, "unpack") their discography in terms of straight-up coolness? And when I say "coolness," I mean coolness like how James Dean or Keith Richards is cool to your Mom, or like how "The Kid Was A Killer" by Keith West is cool to me, or like how Father Yod was cool to Thurston Moore four years ago.

IF THE BEATLES WERE A YEAR:

Pre-Beatlemania Beatles are January, Beatlemania Beatles are February/March, Rubber Soul is late April, Sgt. Pepper is the sweaty, humid thick of summer, The White Album is October (to correspond with celebrity Libra John Lennon's birthday, of course), Let It Be is November- the impending doom and gloom of cruel dark Winter, and Abbey Road (not counting all the songs with "sun" in their titles) is December- The End.

And Revolver would be exact today.

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Sunday , June 7, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: Laura Jane Opines About Five More Beatles Songs

Asking Laura Jane Faulds not to Beatles-opine is like asking an ant not to bring shit back to the anthill. But who would ever ask Laura Jane Faulds not to Beatles-opine? Someone who was cruel, in an absurd and specific way. An overzealous Rolling Stones fan who hated me? Seems like yeah- him, or nobody.

A memo to all overzealous Rolling Stones fans checking this out- don't playa-hate, opinionate. Or opine. That's what I did- five times, no less!

PS: My next hit of Beatles-opining is going to be a track-by-track analysis of all Revolver, and then next up is an "All The Ringo Songs" edition, so those are definitely something to live for on all of our ends.

1. YER BLUES

Tonight, I am mostly concerned with the following multiple choice question:

Is life

a) a tragedy
b) a comedy
c) a tragicomedy
d) a comedy of errors
e) all of the above
or
f) none of the above?

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Thursday , June 4, 2009

The Young Person's Guide to the Beatles: THE BEATLES INNER CIRCLE HANDBOOK

Oh, Dumb, Crazy Beatles! Sometimes, boys, you were foolish. You were fools. If I were your mothers, I would smack y'all on the back of your mop-toppy heads in an attempt to knock some damned sense into you. But would you have learned? God, No! You didn't need to! You were the Beatles! Who cared? You sure didn't! Besides, you boys had a handy-dandy coterie of Beatles-mess cleaner-uppers who followed you around with a dustpan, sweepin' up your LSD-soaked, bank-bustin' mistakes. Today, Class, we will be exploring the sordid and/or boring stories of the dudes who dustbusted up the Beatles' stupidity, replacing it with glimmering shards of kaleidoscopic genius dust, and cups of tea.

[Two (2) disclaimers: (1) The two most important members of BEATLES INNER CIRCLE, producer George Martin and dead manager Brian "Eppy" Epstein, will not be discussed in this article. I love them like they were my children, uncles, or pals, and they will each be getting articles of their own in the future. (2) I think it is important to always bear in mind that the Beatles were composed of one (1) Libra, one (1) Gemini/Cancemini hybrid, one (1) Pisces, and one (1) Leo. If you possess even the most limited understanding of what the zodiac signs all mean, it is unnecessary for me to state who is who, because it's just so obvious. But, if not, I listed the signs in the order that the Beatles' first names are most commonly spoken in.]

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1. NEIL ASPINALL: Neil "Aspy" Aspinall (note: "Aspy" is not a real Neil Aspinall nickname) was a chill childhood pal of the Beatles' from Liddypool. He eventually grew up to be history's most unqualified CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation (I am referring to Apple Rekkids, obvs). Man oh Manischewitz- what didn't Neil Aspinall do for the Beatles?!?! He did all of it. He was the most selfless man who ever lived. Here are some fun Neil Aspinall facts that don't relate to his "career" (ew, even just writing that word makes me want to puke)-

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+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting
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+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting
+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting
+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting
+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting
+ Snapshot: Listening, Watching, Reading, Wearing, Wanting

OLD SCHOOL

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+ Read entries from May 19 - June 13, 2003

 

NOGOODFORME.COM is Kat, Liz, and Laura Jane. We write about style, fashion, music, film, art, photography, pop culture, celebrities, and more: all the good stuff of life. Find out more about us.

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