2001-09-09 / 1:35 p.m.

~Oxygen and Water~

I just read this little Reuters (which I used to always think was pronounced "Rooters", isn't that funny?) interview with Peter Fonda, in which he discusses taking acid with the Beatles back in 1965. Nothing too new, I guess, but that one trip did inspire John Lennon to write the lyrics to "She Said, She Said", which is indeed news.

Turns out George Harrison thought he was gonna die, and yeah, that happens some times when you're tripping - with me, my first time, I simply thought I knew the answer. The answer to all of this, there was a defined moment of mental/spiritual clarity that lasted for several days. But I digress.

So, George thinks he's gonna die, and Peter tells him he knows what it's like to die, on account of how he shot himself by accident when he was 10. Maybe he did die briefly, article doesn't say. Anyway, John is all disgusted, Peter says John hated him, hated anyone intelligent and intellectual, which I suppose Peter was/is. So John says things like, "Yeah, and I feel like I've never been born" or something, and suddenly it's a song and it goes on the "Abbey Road" album - but wasn't it "Revolver"???

Pause to go to record collection....one moment please.....

Okay, who wrote that piece of crap article anyway? I didn't think it was "Abbey Road", far too heady for that album, I do believe it was "Revolver", but I only have "Revolver" on cassette - I taped it off the radio one day - and the songs aren't listed, and I do not feel like researching it right this second because I am busy in the middle of a diary entry, and this is more important than that, but anyway....

Who knows if anyone can believe these old drug stories anyway, I mean, yeah, sure Fonda took acid, we all know that, and who didn't? Well, who that grew up in the '60s, or for him I guess it was the '50s, but, all of a sudden I'm talking out my ass so I will bring this portion of the entry to a close. I thought it was interesting. I grew up in the '60s, and '70s, and yeah, I took acid, but not until the '80s, and I have my own drug stories, though I never took acid with the Beatles, but I do believe John could've written that song right then and there.

Thing was, at the end of the article - which is now dubious, all of it, due to the claim that "She Said, She Said" is on "Abbey Road", when clearly it is not - Fonda is talking about globalization protests and how really we should all be concerning ourselves wtih oxygen, because we will run out soon, and water. Oxygen and Water are the most important things, and well, the interviewer sort of makes fun of him at the end of the article, accusing him of going off in an acid trip type rambling about oxygen and water.

That wasn't nice. Fonda is right. He is so right, and you, interviewer, whoever you are, you will see...(Addendum, circa 4:07 p.m. - I re-skimmed the article, and it says "1966 Abbey Road recording", not from the record "Abbey Road". My bad. Oops. Still, coulda said which album it's on, wouldn't've killed ya, eh? Reuters interviewer dude?)

Besides all of that (Jesus, I could've just linked to the article and anyone reading this could've just read it instead!), I stayed off the computer all day yesterday after writing my little entry about being so interested in someone whom I will never know. I was frustrated. It was a nice change to not spend a Saturday reading diaries...

I actually washed all those dishes, utensils, pots, bowls, glasses, etc. A major accomplishment, so major, in fact, that I did virtually nothing the whole rest of the day.

"Chilly Scenes of Winter" was on cable again, Sundance I think, and this time I watched it, but it's not a very good movie, and it couldn't hold my attention, not fully. John Heard is in love with a woman, and I forget the actress' name (Mary Beth Hurt?), but she was in "The World According to Garp" too. I guess she was popular in the late '70s. Anyway, she leaves her husband to be on her own, he meets her, falls in love, gets her to move in with him, she leaves him to go back to her husband, she eventually realizes it's a mistake, leaves him again, but won't marry John Heard.

You see, he is in love with her, but when he tells her she says things like, "I know you do". Yeah, "I love you, babe" or whatever, and, "I know you do". That is a signal, a loud signal, she does not love you. But does he listen? No.

Fun movie. Not.

Then, later, this movie, "Cherry", with Shalom Harlow, yeah, the "super model", and she is indeed beautiful, very beautiful, but very skinny, and she plays a girl who was jilted at the altar and vows to never love again, but ten years later decides she wants to have a baby. Of course she is still a virgin because she never had sex in all those ten years of hating love and marriage.

She quaintly owns a muffin shop and lives above it, and there is jaunty quaint music throughout and jaunty quaint characters, like her uncle and his gay lover, a character named, "Mammy", played by of all people, Mr. Illya Kuryakin from "Man From U.N.C.L.E", David McCallum!

So it's all cute and quaint and her gynecologist falls in love with her and she eventually falls back, and it was fun.

I fell asleep on the sofa again, on purpose, and it was once again a wonderfully decadent experience, a Saturday only experience, and I awoke around 3:30 to go to bed. Gladys bothers me when I sleep on the sofa, like she is telling me if I am going to be sleeping I need to do it in the bed, okay?!

So I lay in bed flipping between MTV and MTV2, looking for "Weapon of Choice", and I was thoroughly disgusted, not just because in an hour and a half of flipping they did not show it, but because when did MTV become BET? Oh, how Politically Incorrect! Seriously, you KNOW what I'm talking about, don't you?

Rap videos suck. It's all these goofy wannabe gangstas, guys who would have no lives at all if they weren't on MTV, wearing HUGE sports jerseys, basketball, football, whatever, but they're HUGE, and they have backwards caps on their heads, or funky doorags, and their pants are HUGE, and they are rapping, badly, and there are these women, subjugating themselves, wearing ridiculously short booty shorts, their asses hanging out, and little halters or bathing suit tops or something similar, grinding their asses against these guys with all these layers of HUGE clothes on.

Huh?

Then they'll play a white video. And all these singers sound like a cross between Eddie Vedder and Kurt Cobain and they all suck. It's horrible. Or they're trying to seem evil and scary and all the extras are wearing black, and they're singing about dying, or almost dying, or some shit, and I just wanna hurl a shoe at the TV.

And then, I'm reminding myself of the stereotype of the parent, the one who says, "Why, in MY day, we had MUSIC, not this crap!", and I'm thinking about Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix and YES and well, anything I listened to when I was a teenager, and how there weren't music videos, there were concert movies.

But this rap stuff, this objectification of women, it's sick, it really is, and as a former subscriber to Playboy I see this as even worse. Because it should be about the music, not the booty shorts. And it's not just the guys with huge clothes, it's Missy Elliot too, her "One Minute Man" was one of the worst, with this woman grinding by herself on this round bed in a cheap motel, a place where hookers take their johns, and there's a shot of her from behind and we can see her ass, and I'm thinking, "Wha....?", what is this crap? This is what kids are watching?

Okay, it was 5:00 in the morning, on a Sunday, but still.....

Right, we need to watch out for Oxygen and Water, they are the most important things, okay? And I wanna take some acid with Peter Fonda and George Harrison, but not now, back in 1965.

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