Cleanse your brain here

Politics is awful.

It's often hateful. The bullshit is so deep that you'll contract something nasty if you don't wear hip waders and occasionally spray yourself down with disinfectant.

And then there's Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann, Nancy Pelosi, talk-radio screamers . . . and Steve King. The tea party is outraged -- and largely victorious.

People are still talking big about "watering the tree of liberty" with the blood of tyrants. I am reminded, however, of Gov. Earl Long's question of the arch-segregationist boss of Plaquemines Parish, Leander Perez: "What are you going to do now, Leander? The Feds have got the atom bomb."

THAT'S WHY, today of all days, we need a palate cleanser. That would be this video, I Met the Walrus, based on an interview then 14-year-old Jerry Levitan recorded with John Lennon in a Toronto hotel room as he and Yoko Ono prepared to head to Montréal for their second 1969 "bed-in for peace."



THEN, in Montréal. . . .

Tomorrow: Better than today

After posting this week's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth -- what with my paean to the '80s and "colortinis" -- I got to thinking about the late, great Tom Snyder and his Tomorrow show.

The wasn't anyone the man hadn't interviewed, I don't think. And it was always a late, late show event when he did. Above, we see Snyder with John Lennon on 1975.


AND THEN, with Lennon's producer for Double Fantasy, Jack Douglas. The date: Dec. 9, 1980.

John Lennon had just been murdered the night before.

Douglas said the former Beatle had had a message for people at the dawn of the 1980s.

I think the first single off the album, which was called "Starting Over" -- which we picked while we were doing the album -- was the feeling that he wanted to have for the '80s . . . that we are, in fact, in the '80s, that we are starting over. That it's time to be optimistic about the future. That it's time to write off George Orwell and 1984.

It's time to forget about those things, that in '84, that we can have what we want if we work together and for ourselves.

I MISS an age when we could be so hopeful. Naively hopeful, but hopeful nonetheless.

That was such an improvement over the anger, strife, name calling and hopelessness we wallow in today.

Come back John Lennon.

Come back, Tom Snyder.

We've forgotten how to hope. And we've forgotten how to have a meaningful -- and civil -- conversation. We long to sit back, relax and watch the pictures, now -- hopeful pictures -- as they fly through the air.

See no future, pay no rent. . . .

Well, if this isn't a sign of the times, I don't know what is.

EMI is selling the Abbey Road studios, which it established in 1929 and which the Beatles made famous in the 1960s. From the Financial Times:

It was not immediately clear whether EMI would sell the Abbey Road brand name along with the property, but one media lawyer said: “The brand is worth more than the building . . . anybody who wants the studios will want the brand.”

EMI bought the house at number 3 Abbey Road for £100,000 in 1929 and transformed it into the world’s first custom-built recording studios.

In 1931, Sir Edward Elgar used studio one to record Land of Hope and Glory with the London Symphony Orchestra and by World War II Abbey Road was used for propaganda recordings for the British government and BBC radio broadcasts.

The Beatles put the studios on the map, using it for 90 per cent of their recordings between 1962 and 1969 and naming their final album Abbey Road. EMI used the studios for last year’s release of remastered Beatles albums.

Pink Floyd recorded Dark Side of the Moon at the studios, which have also been used by Radiohead, the Manic Street Preachers, Travis and Blur.

However, the studios have faced cheaper competition from recording facilities in other countries, and technological advances allowing artists to record using only a laptop computer have made it harder for labels to justify owning expensive recording infrastructure.

“What you have is a very, very expensive piece of heritage. If an artist goes to a label and asks to record at Abbey Road they will be met with maniacal laughter,” the media lawyer said.

MAYBE Paul McCartney saw the future coming. Or maybe all media is now run as if by shady rock 'n' roll managers:

Out of college, money spent
See no future, pay no rent
All the money's gone, nowhere to go
Any jobber got the sack
Monday morning, turning back
Yellow lorry slow, nowhere to go
But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go
Oh, that magic feeling
Nowhere to go
Nowhere to go

Grace in the music with Lennons

Sometimes, grace is a lyric in a rock 'n' roll song.

At least it was for Julian Lennon, jumping back into the music industry to write, with co-author James Scott Cook, his own song about a childhood friend. Perhaps you've heard of her -- Lucy, as in "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds."

Lucy O'Donnell, the sparkly friend of the 4-year-old first-born of John Lennon, grew up, married Ross Vodden, reconnected with her preschool mate Julian in recent years . . . and died of lupus in September at 46. It was in memorializing his friend on his first album in 12 years, though, that allowed Julian to finally come to terms with his father's ghost and tend to some old, old hurts.

LE FILS LENNON explained it this way Tuesday on CBS' The Early Show:

Julian told "Early Show" co-anchor Harry Smith his original drawing depicting Lucy "got lost. So how it was found or who may have taken it, I have no idea, but it's now been re-found and David Gilmour from Pink Floyd has it and kindly allowed us to use a copy of it for the art work" for "Lucy."

"The song ends up being an important bridge, because your relationship with your father had good days and good times and bad times," Smith observed.

"Indeed," Julian agreed.

"And no times at all," Smith added.

"Indeed, yeah," Julian said.

Asked if he feels "like you kind of made some peace here," Julian responded, "It's sort of come full-circle in many respects."

He told CBS News working on "Everything Changes" and on "Lucy" helped him come to grips with his relationship with his father and finally find forgiveness.

"With Dad running off and divorcing Mum," Julian said, "I had a lot of bitterness and anger I was living with. In the past, I had said I had forgiven Dad, but it was only words. It wasn't until the passing of my friend Lucy and the writing of this song that really helped me forgive my father.

"I realized if I continued to feel that anger and bitterness towards my dad, I would have a constant cloud hanging over my head my whole life.

"After recording the song "Lucy," almost by nature, it felt right to fulfill the circle, forgive dad, put the pain, anger and bitterness in the past, and focus and appreciate the good things.

"Writing is therapy for me and, for the first time in my life, I'm actually feeling it and believing it. It also has allowed me to actually embrace Dad and the Beatles."

SOMETIMES, it's about more than just being a singer in a rock 'n' roll band. And sometimes grace deserves a credit in the liner notes.

Is all right . . . is all right. . . .

You didn't think I'd allude to "Whatever Gets You Thru the Night" in the previous post and not throw the original John Lennon promotional video up here, do you?

Nuh uh. That would be wrong.

3 Chords & the Truth: Ride, Captain, ride!

I think this just might sum up this week's episode of 3 Chords & the Truth quite nicely:

Ride, Captain, ride upon your mystery ship,
Be amazed at the friends you have here on your trip,
Ride, Captain, ride upon your mystery ship,
On your way to a world that others might have missed. . . .

THAT, AT ITS HEART, is what the Big Show is all about. 3 Chords & the Truth is a mystery ship on a mystery trip -- a musical voyage of discovery on the sea of life. It's not neat, and it doesn't fit into prefab categories.

Then again, neither does life.

You're never quite sure what you'll get from 3 Chords & the Truth. Just like life.

But you know it's going to be an interesting ride, and you're on board with all your friends. The ship is leaving from Port Internet at your convenience -- get on board and let's hear what there is to hear out there in this great big ol' world.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

'Ladies and gentlemen . . . the Beatles!'

The economy sucks. The weather sucks. The beginning of daylight-saving time sucks, what with losing that hour of sleep and all.

Did I mention the economy sucks?

That's why it's important to latch onto joy where you can find it. The Beatles' first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show was joyous. The music they played was joyous.

Watch this and get your joy on. It's really, really important to remember the little joys of life . . . and what they feel like.

"Ladies and gentlemen . . . the Beatles!"

3 Chords & the Truth: It's getting hot in here

This week's edition of 3 Chords & the Truth is hot.

It's smokin'.

It's burning-up, smokin' hot.

On cold, gray days like one is wont to find this time of the winter, that can be a good thing. So why don't you cozy up next to your computer -- or snuggle up with your iPod -- and warm yourself in the glow of the Big Show.

It might even warm your heart. Or something.

It's 3 Chords & the Truth, y'all. Be there. Aloha.

3 Chords & the Truth: Favog's Zen garden

I didn't expect organic gardening to be this Zen thing for me.

ALL I WANTED TO DO was to grow some vegetables in the name of greater self-sufficiency (Take that prepackaged consumerist culture!) and saving a few bucks -- or more -- at the grocery store. And I wanted to accomplish that without putting 47 pounds of MiracleGro and 87 cubic yards of Sevin dust on everything.

I also determined to reuse what dishwater I reasonably could to hydrate said garden. After all, that would certainly make getting rid of coffee grounds and grease easier -- dump it all in the pot the dishwater goes into, then dump it all in the garden.

Putting organic material back into the earth . . . good. I've even got a little countertop compost box that really, really needs to be transferred into a legit outdoors compost pile. I'll get to it.

Anyway, Mrs. Favog calls my horticultural methodology "Nazi death-camp gardening." She'd rather I just unreel a hose pipe to where the tomatoes and pepper plants are, turn on the water, turn on 3 Chords & the Truth and have a cold beer.

Let me amend that. She could care less whether I have a cold beer. The missus just doesn't particularly care for carrying a stock pot (or three) full of water across the back yard to the garden, then unloading the H2O into the rows.

Heinrich Himmler am I. Or is it Heimlich? I have trouble keeping my genocidal Germans straight.

WHATEVER. I GUESS I CAN'T blame her for not having a Catholic Buddhist vibe going when it comes to tomatoes and peppers. Beans, too. If I get them planted in the next week, I think I can get in a crop of pole beans before first frost.

For me, carrying pots of recycled water out to the garden -- and hoeing out the weeds and touching up the rows every couple of weeks -- is the Southern Boy Catholic version of raking a big rock bed or tapping sand out of a straw to make a beautiful mandala. The advantage of my Catholic Zen thang over the eastern Zen thang hinges on one thing:

You can't eat sand. Or rocks.

Tomatoes and peppers are tasty, however. And good for you.

What does this have to do with this week's episode of 3 Chords & the Truth? I frankly have no idea.

Maybe it has something to do with crafting sets of songs into something with some meaning -- whatever the meaning happens to be with any grouping of music. Maybe it has something to do with music soothing the savage breast.

Maybe it has something to do with being gaga for Joan Jett since I was 16. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Listen to 3 Chords & the Truth, the worldwide music service of Revolution 21 -- it's Zen radio. On the Internets.

Just go here -- or to the player at the top of this page -- and achieve a higher consciousness. Be there. Aloha.

You know marketolatry has gone too far. . . .

John, Paul, George and Ringo have nothing on Miley Cyrus, a.k.a. Hannah Montana.

And, if John Lennon was right and the Beatles were, back in the day, more popular than Jesus Christ. . . .

SUNDAY AFTERNOON, Mrs. Favog and I attended a 6-year-old girl's birthday party. A 6-year-old who loves, naturellement, Hannah Montana.

Among the loot the child raked in:

* A Hannah Montana doll.
* A Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus CD.
* A Hannah Montana backpack.
* A Hannah Montana notebook.
* A Hannah Montana singing pen.
* A Hannah Montana "activity pack."
* Hannah Montana pencils, sticky notes, etc., etc., etc.

WHEN I WAS 6, the Beatles were all the rage. But even a cultural force like the Fab Four was easier to escape than the marketing apocalypse behind the 15-year-old daughter of Mr. Achy Breaky Heart.

Is there any point to American culture -- at least anymore -- other than pimping the latest disposable teen star to the toddler-to-tween demographic? And then selling the kiddies Jägerbombs and NuvaRings once they -- like fallen tween angel Britney Spears -- achieve puberty . . . and communion with their inner skank?

Sunday, as I struggled with acute Hannah Montana overload, I mused what it does to a teen-ager's head -- even if she did have the advantage (unlike some noted train wrecks) of not being raised by money-grubbing hillbillies -- to walk into a store and see shelves and shelves of . . . herself.

Commodified and idolized.

Personally, I don't think there are enough shrinks in the world to deal with that kind of interpersonal train wreck. Particularly after the applause stops, and all manner of commodified you ends up in the deep-discount bin.

Or worse, at the 99¢ Only Store.

There's only thing more ridiculous than our worshiping some all-powerful deity Who died on a cross and can have His body and blood, soul and divinity become one with a wafer of unleavened bread and a chalice of wine so His creation might feed on Him.

That would be what we worship in His place.