You know when somehow people suppress information for months and months because they know that it’d send the nation into a mad panic if it was reported at the time? Like how people never knew how close Britain came to losing the world wars, or how close terrorists come to blowing us up. Well we have old news for you!
Paul McCartney almost died. That’s right. The loveable, fake-haired moptop singer of the Beatles (the only one still living that’s not called Ringo Starr, natch) could’ve been involved in a helicopter crash. Back in May.
McCartney was travelling in bad weather in his Sikorsky S-76C helicopter when his pilot – I shit you not – became “disorientated” in bad weather. And because a helicopter is a machine of the devil that uses conjuring black magic to stay in the air, as soon as you become disorientated and lose your evil dark forces focus, the helicopter goes down. In the middle of a forest.
But the pilot got back his voodoo mojo and managed to land the whirlybird safely.
That got me thinking.
Paul McCartney pretty much ruined our summer.
Would it have been that bad if the pilot didn’t land it?
I mean look at this: the guy warbled his way through a bunch of Beatles songs at the Jubilee and didn’t play Hey Jude. Now this pissed people off. Paul was getting presumptious; too big for his boots. Everyone knows that you have to play Hey Jude. It’s not a British party if you can’t sing along on the sofa at home, shouting “NA NA NA NA, NA NA NA NAAAAAAAAH HEY JUDE!” at the top of your lungs.
And then a month or so later he was there again, ruining everything. The Olympics were meant to be Britain’s crowning glory – the chance to showcase ourselves to the watching world. And we wheeled out Paul McCartney, thin hair and thinner voice.
This time Sir Paul deigned to ‘entertain’ us with Hey Jude. But he might as well not. It sucked. I can’t blame the guy: he’s getting old. He’s taken more drugs than a laboratory rat, and practically every other Beatle worth anything is dead from it. But he isn’t. He’s still standing, looking ever more like a corpse every day, singing songs that have been out of his vocal range for the past 20 years. Don’t believe me? Take this selection of comments on Macca’s Olympics performance:
Sir Paul McCartney has pleaded for the release of a baby elephant that’s been beaten and kept in chains in India. At least the poor creature didn’t have to listen to Macca on Friday night.
Hands up if you think we were fleeced by McCartney?
Macca also blew it big style at the Jubilee concert a few weeks ago and I think I’ve worked out why they keep inviting him to top the bill at these events. It’s the quickest surefire way to empty the stadium.
Oh by the way, that’s all from a single article. That’s right: there are pages upon pages of this stuff. So imagine how great our British summer could’ve been had we not had Paul McCartney there to turn up at the end and warble his way through some old timers songs? I’m not saying the helicopter should’ve crashed, but we could’ve put someone else on at the end of the bill for a change.
Imaginea world without Paul, Lennon might’ve said. And I’m not the only one…
I hope some day you will join us…and the world will be as one.