Wednesday, July 26, 2006

what the hell was wrong with george harrison?!

So while i have been so comfortably sitting in my throne of unemployment i have had ample time to reflect on the more important issues in life: the current conflict in the middle east, the growing unemployment rate, the deficit and why internet porn is so much more satisfying than purchased porn (my theory is that men are lazy and would rather masturbate to aunt jamima rather then actually go BUY porn). well along with my ponderings on life i also occassionaly (translation: constantly) surf YouTube.com. its an amazing sight, you can literally find any video clip you have ever wanted to see i.e. a monkey urinating in its own mouth or outtakes from Full House where danny and joey actually cuss at one another (these are both real, look them up). but in my searchings the other day i suddenly had an old tune worm its way into my brain..the tune? George Harrison's "I've got my mind set on you", its an amazing song, its one of those songs that brings me back to my childhood riding in my mother's 18 passenger van complaining that picking me and my brothers up an hour late from school was not acceptable (although we became used to these late afternoon pickups). Nostaligia aside i had this song in my head, so i thought 'hey corey why not look up on YouTube.com the video to this song', as i had vaugly remember seeing the video when i was a child, usually after wrestling and my dads third beer the TV would end up at VH1 for GOD only knows why, it was 11 a.m on a saturday, why would you do that to a kid...and why would you have already had three beers by 11 a.m? mysteries of the universe i suppose...anyway...as i said, i vaugly remembered this video and i remember it being strange, like things were moving in the video and also when i was younger i thought george harrison and don johnson were the same person, dont ask my why, apparently i get the Beatles and Miami Vice confused. so not fully remembering this video i decide to look it up...sure enough its there...and as i watched this video from my childhood i paused and then promptly threw my computer across the room. Sounds crazy right? exactly! i realized that George Harrison was a fucking lunatic! The video features harrison sitting in a room with his electric guitar not plugged into any identifiable amp. the room is kind of baroque, suits of armor, stuffed bears, grandfather clocks, etc. so for some reason during the song, all of these inadimate objects start moving (not unlike sam raimi's evil dead films, could be a reference not sure) and at first they make sense, harrison chimes "its gonna take time, a whole lot of precious time" and the clock starts dancing, more like falling over and then catching itself its really odd it looks like an epileptic fit, which i guess would make sense since its a grandfather clock...ouch! take that geriatrics! but other than that there is ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING RHYME OR REASON FOR THESE THINGS TO MOVE! it literally looks like george harrison decided to drink three bottle of nyquil and said "HEy you cunty bastards, im english lets make a video...RINGO...or COO COO CUCHOO!" thats not a direct quote. but this video is just utterly batshit! and for some reason it disturbs me to think that my parents let me watch an aging beatle play his unplugged electric guitar while hanging out with possessed furniture..its like pee wee's play house with MORE acid. im done...tyra banks isnt a funny person. later

2 Comments:

Blogger Liz said...

Wait... you mean to tell me that Don Johnson wasn't one of the beatles?

You have just busted pop culture history WIDE OPEN!

I don't know that I could have ever confused anyone with anything having to do with that acid trip of a show featuring a VERY young Lawrence Fishburne, and Jambi the Genie saying,
"Mek a leka hi mekka hiney ho!" Whatever that means... I'm pretty sure it's a racial slur!

9:41 PM  
Blogger Scott Thomas said...

attempts have been made, they will continue to be made...im living with a german chick, read Hegel and smoke cigarettes in an open window summer room with French roast coffee and a broken phone...theres a stereo on the floor and the sticcato strut of Chopin makes me feel less sticky with sweat...but i do sweat, and its a salty sting on my cut up wrists, ripped apart by concerntina wire during a night mission...a secular stigmata bleeding in honor of existential invisible crowns of pride and honor and courage hidden from the disgusting physique of an empire I live on the edge of.

2:42 AM  

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