That Time The Beatles Sucked

Ok, first off, go watch to this clip.  You may want to listen multiple times, if only to John's slightly-off mic comment.  Listen to the sound of his voice and watch the expression on his face.  There is nothing but seething hatred as he hisses "Shut up, I can hear you!" at the frenzied crowd.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWP6Qki8mWc&spfreload=10

This was filmed on 1 August, 1965 at the ABC Theatre in Blackpool.  They performed for an audience and were recorded live for a television broadcast, only days before leaving for their second tour of the United States.  Their soon-to-be-record-breaking Shea Stadium appearance lay just two weeks ahead of them, and their previous European Tour had just ended about a month earlier.  This performance was just six songs, and performed at a theatre the Beatles had played before.

Beatlemania was at a fever pitch in England at that time.  The screaming adulation had already taken a great toll on the band, and by this point they felt as though it didn't even matter if they played well anymore.  The recordings of the Beatles at the Hollywood Bowl from that same U.S. Tour are actually infamous for the impossible to ignore volume of the crowd.

So in this miserable theatre in front of these deafening fans and just before heading back out on the road (across the ocean, in fact), and after having toiled through "I Feel Fine," "I'm Down," "Act Naturally," "Ticket To Ride," and "Yesterday," John exasperatedly began to introduce their final number, "Help."

Stepping up to the mic, he began "The next song we'd like to sing..." The audience noise swelled, and a young woman, seemingly from the upper balcony, screamed his name above the noise.

[Here's where you're going to have to use your imagination a little bit.  The actions and tones are so subtle, you have to look for them and believe they are there.]

John's facade drops completely, and the deep, underlying rage he's feeling seeps through.  In a frustrated and abusive tone, he says it almost like he's about to strike someone: "shaddap, I can hear you!" "Hear" isn't only meant literally.  "Hear" in the sense that this noise is in his head, inescapable all hours of the day, shutting him up inside his house.  He has simply had enough of this. This life as the center of a hurricane.  He needs everyone to just shut up.

His expression lingers momentarily on an angry mock smile before he catches himself and snaps back to reality.  He brushes the hair from his eyes, glances nervously over at his bandmates, and continues "--is our latest record!"  He then does a little song-and-dance, trying to shake off the bad vibe that just settled over the stage.  He thinks he hears a chuckle from Paul or George and puffs out his chest and looks over at them, only to notice their backs to him, preparing for the next song.  He continues with his pre-planned punchline, "or our latest 'electronic noise' depending on who's side you're on."  He delivers it flatly, defeatedly.  He shifts anxiously from side to side, adjusts the hems of his pant-legs, and trudges on.  "Anyroad! We'd like to carry on with it, it's our last number. We'd like to thank you all for being so wonderful," he said, not noticing as his sarcastic smirk transformed into a mocking posture, and finally punctuated with an overtly-facetious chuckle.

Looking once more to his bandmates for support, he nervously chuckles as he announces, "and it's called: 'Help!'"

Here, after what felt like an eternity, the band launches into "Help!"  Only,  John's vocal is flat, George's trembling fingers are finding all the wrong tones on an overly loud guitar, and Ringo's drums, having not been mic'd for the recording, aren't coming through strong enough to drive the beat.  To make matters worse, right as George and Paul sang the second "help!", Paul's acoustic guitar - which had been resting against Ringo's drum riser - succumbs to gravity and the vibrations from Starr's kit, and crashes clangorously to the stage, right behind George. But this is the Beatles, and they've survived far worse mistakes than this. They quickly pull it together, George gets his guitar turned down just in time for his interlude, and they head down to the verse.

Paul, though, is feeling the downward dragging of his band mates and attempts to liven it up a bit by shouting one of his patented "hey!"s a split second before the downbeat.  John, however, was not prepared to do much more than slog his way through this one and call it a night, and gets caught slightly off guard by Paul.  He glances over briefly as he needs to begin the verse.

His voice is flat and intentionally lazy-sounding. He moves towards the mic so close his lips are brushing the grille and the treble is dampening from the proximity effect. He seems to spot an audience member to his left that for one reason or another has earned his fixation.  His voice seems to take on a seldom-glimpsed (at this stage, anyway) raw power that emotes through the hoarseness.

Ever the competitor, Paul is not to be ignored.  As the song moves to the pre-chorus, he offers another "hey!" slightly less confident in tone. To him, this band needed to have its act together if they were about to perform for the largest audience in rock and roll history in two weeks.

John acknowledges the encouragement by drawing out his vowels even longer against the rhythm.  He's not quite ready to surrender yet.  But Paul feels satisfied, as now John's sneering attitude has injected a new spirit into his performance.

The band finishes the first verse and jumps to the next one, ready to head home.  Only, while performing his interlude again, George had stepped back to inspect the fallen acoustic guitar.  He misses the opening "now..." he's supposed to be singing with Paul to start the second verse.  The two flash knowing grins at each other as George reaches the mic and picks back up where he's supposed to be.

The beat begins to slow again a little as they get back into their comfort zone.  But John gets a little too comfortable and completely flubs the line "But every now and then I feel so insecure," replacing it with something that sounds like "and then these pla-vah days and I not so self-assure" before recovering to finish with the proper  "I know that I, just need you like I've never done before."  He strains the words harder, hoping to recover the momentum he'd just lost.  Paul looks up, seemingly to the heavens, for a little relief to just make it to the end of the song in one piece.  Without even thinking, he instinctively shouts another "hey!" suddenly noticing that his reaction to the band needing some pepping up by now had become a conditioned response.

But George, Ringo, and most fortunately, John are not phased by this, and continue the ball rolling into the next pre-chorus.  Paul considers this for just a moment before he finds himself standing too still, and wiggles his hips.  Again, another conditioned response surprises him as he sneaks in a quick, left-handed wave in the direction of the nearest, youngest-looking group of girls.  This had become a trick all of the guitarist Beatles had adopted over the years to create a little extra frenzy in the audience, and - as a result - cover their poor performance.

The third verse begins with John singing and playing his guitar unaccompanied by the rest of the band.  He gets through it okay,  but his voice is flat again and lacks his usual, unmistakeable swagger.  The group join in again, and Paul is pensive. Had performing started to get as routine and lackluster as the others had begun to claim? Were they ready to take this act out on the road again?  You can see though, those thoughts are only fleeting and his usual, upbeat, live-in-the-moment performer persona flashes back on his face and he's ready to take this one home.

So now, right as Paul has found his resolve again, John flubs another lyric.  This time, instead of "And now I find..." he mumbles out "I know that I..." but recovers quickly enough to finish the line correctly.  But this is unheard of for the band. Sure, they all had forgotten lyrics from time to time, and John had been the worst offender, but never before have they forgotten them as a result of nerves.  It wasn't too uncommon at this point that they had zoned out and missed a line or two before catching themselves for their laziness. But this wasn't one of those moments.  John, their fearless leader, after all this time and all these shows, having been caught off his guard and off his game, John fuckin' Lennon was having stagefright.

Paul - and I'm unsure as to whether he meant to or not - shouts one last "hey!" before the final pre-chorus.  But this one is different than the ones before.  This is no longer a command you shout at your army buddies; a sort of "Hey, let's get a move on, lads!" This is an encouraging, we're-deeper-friends-that-we'd-care-to-admit "Hey, everything is ok!"

If you compare their final round of shouting "help!" to the intro, you hear two completely different mindsets in the band.  They had shaken off the rust of a month long break from performing (which felt a lot longer), and shaken off the dust of their previous tours, which they hadn't noticed until now had become a weight on them.  They were ready to re-conquer the States, which had previously left them with a taste for something more.

John triumphantly leaps back toward his amp, striking a pose perhaps reminiscent of a great Shakespearean actor having just completed his final scene.  He realizes, though, that this act is presently more of a mocking one; his disdain for the shrieking audience had come to color his view on his role as an artist.

The Beatles bow in unison as they did so many times, but John lingers face-down for a moment longer.  He knows what awaits him once he stands up again.  The curtains will close before him, George and Ringo and Mal will begin to break the stage, Paul probably won't say anything, just flash that grin he does so well, and Brian will have some stern words that he's surely already practiced in the brief minutes prior.

It's perhaps surprising, perhaps telling, that the Beatles chose to include this performance in their Anthology television series and the accompanying cd.  They must have felt this moment was a bit of historical importance.  This was the time when the audience finally broke the invisible wall that the Beatles had come to feel separated them from the masses.  And in a way, it's the first crack in the edifice of the monument that had become the live Beatles.

That this has nevertheless become cherished as dynamic performances by fans worldwide is a testament to the mythos that surrounds the Beatles still.  The professional sheen the Beatles had perfected, the passionate vocals from John, and the strong finish are powerful enough to convince the listeners (then and now) that it was a quality performance.  But in reality, what you are seeing here is video evidence of how the madness of Beatlemania had worn on these artists.

The Greatest Troll In The History of Ever.

July 3, 2016, former president Barack Obama addresses the American people.  It is broadcast live on all major news networks, including ABC, NBC, CBS, CNN, MSNBC, and, on a short tape-delay to censor any possible "communistic propaganda", Fox News...

"Good evening America, and congratulations on the eve of your 240th birthday. I understand President Warren has settled comfortably into her new role as 'Leader of the Free World' and is already nominated for her first Nobel Peace Prize for her integral role in the 'Feminist Revolution' in American politics.  Michelle and the kids and I have also settled in comfortably; to our new home and secure compound in a secret location in or around Geneva, Switzerland. Bo has already found his favorite places to frolic and run along the tightly patrolled perimeter.

"America, it is time for me to be completely open and honest with you.  Only after extensive research, and already well into my first presidential campaign, in 2008, were Michelle and I informed that I was not, in fact, born in the United States of America."

[pause.]

"It was honestly a surprise to me, too.  I had always believed that I was indeed born in Honolulu on August 4th, 1961.  I had a Certificate of Live Birth stating as much, which I employed when enrolling for college, applying for my first loan, and submitting my candidacy for my first elected position.  Never had I any reason to suspect that it may have been improperly filed.  But as the issue arose during my 2008 campaign, the research unit of my staff took it upon themselves to discover if any of these rumors had any credibility.  It turns out, they did.

"I was born in Mombassa, Kenya."

[long pause.]

"Taking stock of this newly discovered evidence, Michelle, my most trusted advisors, and I debated whether or not to suspend my campaign.  I mean, I was American through and through, right down to this one tiny, nearly insignificant technicality.  A technicality spelled out in the Constitution specifically prohibiting me from ever being eligible to achieve the highest office of the country I loved and served.  Eventually, we figured, did it really matter where I was physically born, when spiritually, I was a native son?

"And America, did it matter?

"Did it matter where I was born when I swore to protect this great nation?  Did it matter when I pursued and brought justice to our most dangerous enemies?  Did it matter when I guided the economy patiently through unemployment and recession to jobs and prosperity?  Did it matter when I returned our brave men and women home from the frontlines and combat zones in Iraq and Afghanistan?  Does is still matter, now that I have retired and retreated from your shores?

"The answer is no.

"Anything and everything I accomplished as President would have been identical had my mother returned to Hawai'i before my birth, rather than immediately after.  Every decision I chose, and every mistake I made, would have been exactly the same, and led to exactly the same outcome we see today.

"But alas, the law is the law, and I should not have been eligible for election.  I defied the Constitution at the very same instant I swore an oath to uphold it.  Now, having been granted immunity by the Swiss government, I can never again see my beloved home country again.

"So I bid you farewell.  So long, and sorry for all the prosperity, peace, security, health, and clean air I have burdened you with.

"Oh, and while we're being candid, check this out. I was originally raised in the Islam faith! Allahu Akbar!"

"Kiss my ass, y'all.  And goodnight."

It was later determined that the entire speech was false. Obama would go on to comment that he'd delivered it solely "to fuck with people."

Navajo Mountain, September 2014

Sometime around our Guatemala trip - when and how exactly, I still don't know - the Hope Alliance agreed to return to the Navajo Nation with the Moran Eye Center to do another joint vision screening/glasses dispensing mission.  Now, it's wonderful to work with Moran, and I always enjoy helping the Navajo people, but the situation comes with its own challenges.  Well, one challenge really: they don't need us.

Sadly, poverty is a widespread problem on the Reservation, and the assistance provided by the government is woefully inadequate.  However, a mix of Medicaid benefits and a cultural respect for basic vision care means that the majority of the people there who need glasses already have them.  They may be old, but a pair custom made for them even ten years ago most likely still suits them better than anything we have in our 6,000 pair collection.  The Moran provides a much more critical service with their screenings, and so after our initial attempt last year, they decided to continue, and we decided to focus internationally.

Saturday pretty much confirmed that we made a wise choice.  Of the 198 people who came to the clinic, only 70 were deemed to be in need of glasses.  And only about 55 of those 70 actually left with a pair from us.  Now, don't get me wrong, having helped 55 people to see is a wonderful thing.  But when you're used to dispensing glasses to more like 99% of the patients you see, this feels a little underwhelming.

But still, being with the Navajo is a cool thing.  They generally remain pretty straight faced, and have what comes across as a "serious" demeanor at first.  But when they smile, they have the widest, most genuine, most infective smiles.  It's more beautiful than the landscape.  And that's saying something because the landscape is truly breathtaking.  Nothing man made ever compares to the wonder of nature.  It was hard to keep my eyes on the road on my long, lonely drive down there.

I had hoped to reach Monument Valley by before dark, but my hopes of that happening faded as the sunlight did.  It was already dark as I reached Bluff, on the edge of the Reservation.  Between there and Mexican Hat, I was all alone in the dark on the road.  No cities, no streetlights, not even moonlight, as the crescent hung very low in the sky over a distant electrical storm.  Both the moon and the lightning shone through the desert dust and acquired a red tinge.  Once, a lightning flash silhouetted a towering monolith not far from the road, that was otherwise shrouded in complete blackness.  I don't believe in the paranormal, but it was fun to recall the tales of skinwalkers and try to scare myself a little.  I did see a pair of glowing eyes off to the left of the highway.  As I came closer, my lights finally illuminated the coyote to which they belonged.  Besides him, a hare, and a desert kangaroo rat, there was no other sign of life.

I would love to return again to help, but I think I need to devise a better approach next time.  I guess we'll see...

Time going backwards

When I was a boy, I'd read World Book Encyclopedia articles on galaxies and rockets until I was no longer reading words on pages, but traveling through space in the distant future.

Now as a man, I read wikipedia articles on Romans and Incas until I'm no longer reading words on a screen, but traveling the ancient trade routes of the past.