In Zimbabwe most ordinary people don't have to "imagine" no possessions: they're living John Lennon's 'Imagine' imaginary dream! Capitalism, free markets, the rule of law, property rights and everything and everyone is busted, socialised, levelled, powerless in one vast Marxist blood stain and above them is "only the sky". A rather merciless sky. They really don't have a Limousine to piss in. ["“You may say he's a dreamer, but he's not. A couple of years ago, it emerged that Lennon was a very generous contributor not just to organizations that support and fund the IRA, but to the IRA itself. He could certainly imagine there's no countries, nothing to kill or die for and no religion, too, but until that blessed day he was quite happy to support a religiously discriminatory organization that blows up grannies at shopping centers in order to get out of one country and join another. How heartening to know that, though he grew rich peddling illusory pap to the masses, he didn't fall for it himself."] Mark Steyn.
John Lennon on his song 'Imagine': “Now I understand what you have to do. Put your political message across with a little honey”. Or a thick sickening syrup. And what political message would that be John, beyond student crisis meeting style leftarded drivel?
Ah, that message would be by any logical and rational measure insane bullshit. Imagine there’s no 'Imagine!' Imagine there’s no reality! Imagine there's no massive royalties! Imagine there’s no Yoko Ono or there is a Yoko Ono...
'Imagine' really is a great song. [It's just that it's awful to listen to.] In fact 'Imagine' is such a great song, that I never want or need to hear it again. Ever. Imagine is one of the best, catchiest and utterly done to death melody and lyric combinations advocating the joys of nihilistic totalitarianism ever. And it's of a particularly Pol Pot's Year Zero Khmer Rouge and emptying out the city of Phnom Penh kind.
Add the zenith of the Cultural Revolution and the best of the living hell of North Korea and hey presto! It is the perfect distillation of a classically clueless, callow, juvenile projection fantasy. And interestingly, it’s the complete and exact opposite of the kind of life that most every teenager is largely obsessed with. Er, unless one is a teenage cadre of a jungle guerrilla unit. Hey, every teenager hates to get more possessions, money, fun and thrills, right? Er, no.
Imagine the methods needed to achieve the crushing crap socialist nirvana that is the efluent of 'Imagine', basically a series of lyric revulsions against individuals as flawed and real human beings, with the song posing as er, just the opposite. It's weird, baby. If you can't imagine the natural result of such junk read up on the truth of North Korea an' all.
Imagine is just a damn pop song and has no answers to anything whatsoever, or even poses a single question worth asking. Just like the great Beatles were, outside of song writing and related, virtually incapable of running a basic adult life. None had ever paid a bill, got their own passports or really done almost any of the things that most independent adults have to do. Nope, imagine no personal assistants, managers and flunkies. The Beatles were a fantastic band but not er, as far as I can tell, any kind practical guides to ordinary life. You know the kind? The one without limousines of cash, infinite room service and a massive, largely uncritical adulation.
The most common trait of the very wealthy and famous is that they often believe or others do for them, that everything they say is pure gold.
When Lennon wrote this mawkish Mogadon laced Tin Pan Alley corn, he was a drug addict, a permanent snoozer and a man seemingly determined to lose his overstated alleged 'rebel edge' as fast as possible. With Yoko’s uncomprehending help seemingly also his sense of humour, all by imagining himself into some kind of bizarre self-neutered hippie uber-boob cum bore. What happened? John Lennon used to be a real laugh, full of anger and a great rocker, all seemingly dumped and only to return in ever diminishing flashes as the music and matching tedious politics of the 1970’s dragged on and bloody on.
That's the er, "protest" bowel movement that never once protested about a single real dictatorship like say I dunno, North Korea, Red China, Pol Pot, Che the child killer's Cuba or Soviet Russia et al, including a single Eastern Block communist feifdom and apart from South Africa, which the left helped deliver to the mass murdering and mutilating, tribal rapist Marxist thieves of the ANC and their stealth jihad pals, made not a single lyric about the other twenty odd African hell holes and so on and so on. Yeah, real er, rebels. Riiight. Sure. All lazy mere fashion within an easy teeny intellectual reach.
'Imagine' is based on pathetic guilt and embarrassment at ones own affluence, as if a poverty you have no intention of experiencing is somehow ennobling. Poverty is merely destabilising, humiliating, frustrating, unhealthy, enormously sad, boring, dangerous and totally worthless. This is why rich pop stars sing about it while entirely avoiding anything like it. 'Imagine' is the end result of being extremely rich, indulged, alienated, bored, tired, drug addled, drunk, largely unquestioned and laying in bed for weeks at a time at the tag end of the sixties idiot hippie radical dream and tediously regurgitated every decade since.
The endless Night of the Living 60's Dead and Charles Manson Show that is the ever recurring baby bummer decade, is kept alive by a Dr Frankenstein of circular yet exhausted fashion, boring old leftard celebrities, hackneyed and narrow movies, a backdated MSM, tedious academics and various neo-socialist hobbyist freaks in governments or any combination there of. No, really. Hey, what do I know? Most everything.
The clichéd view of the sixties "happening!" happened really only for a proportionately small group of oft amusing sixties twits, celebrities, entertainers, media hacks and other indulged elites, but never really happened for the majority of ordinary people, if at all. Thus the faux history of the sixties is written by the same elites, not ‘the people’ innit.
The most popular album in England in the 1960’s was er, 'The Sound of Music!’, not the Beatles, the Stones and Dylan. The most popular films were ‘Carry On’ films’, not Bonnie and Clyde and Easy Rider. And nearly everyone was a square, so square was merely the norm. The sixties actually happened for most people in the 1970’s. This is why the 70’s sucked in so many ways and was the start of the joy of today’s full-blown narcissistic decay of twerpydom. Ah, the perfect place for the laughably meaningless pap and drivel of ‘Imagine’. Ah, Pap and Drivel...Who'll ever forget them.
The only thing worse than the actual song ‘Imagine’ are people’s gushing and deluded logical fallacy reactions to it. ‘Imagine’ is a great way to measure the dumb ass quotient at any dinner party where people say things like er, the following true quotes:
“This album is a very moving & touching album in which John is expressing his view of what the world should & can be like”. [ Yes, it should be a place devoid of possessions that we can then er, share. We can share our leaves and twigs...]
“I agree with John on so many things”. [Of course you do, because you are retarded, but you haven’t got the money to even begin or not to begin, as the case may be, to live the er, dream.]
“Especially this album’s message that there can be peace if we try to make it happen”. [Yes, peace is great in North Korea where they’ve “made it happen”.]
“Also, if we want peace, killing is not the way to get it”. [Damn, why did we kill all those Nazi’s?] From the deliciously named Lennon 666.
Now here's a funny thing. Google on 'Imagine' lyrics interpretation and it's nearly all the same gushing drool. Funny, eh? No. It's easy to realise the dream of 'Imargarine'. Just destroy the economy and murder all the individuals.
The ridiculous and illogical sentimental overload of 'Imagine' is if anything, a variant on 'Brave New World'. And like many a sixties rabble, Lennon did er, dig the chemical happiness of various 'Somas'.
John Lennon was so talented that he managed to avoid like most rich celebrities, proposing the novel idea of promoting the hard facts of what made say, his life so enormously bountiful, rich and privileged. Nope, Lennon never promoted the capitalist democracy and free-market principles, the only system that enabled him to spout ludicrously child-like nihilist fantasy’s all while rolling in millions of filthy dollars.
Now Lennon was obviously smart and had a sense of humuour. In the daft film Forrest Gump, the lead is an idiot. And yet he’s an entirely empathetic, practical, effective, socially conservative, honest, hard working, humble, kind and caring er, capitalist who employs people and offers real solutions and services.
And in a Hollywood film of all places, you find the following scene seemingly and refreshingly ridiculing my, my, communism and calling it a little like it is, via the spurious non-ideas presented by the nutso lyrics of ‘Imagine’.
Dick Cavett: You’ve had quite a trip. Could you tell us uh, what was China like?
Forrest Gump: "Well, in the land of China, people hardly got nothin’ at all".
John Lennon: "No possessions?"
Forrest Gump: "And in China they never go to Church".
John Lennon: "No religion too?"
Dick Cavett: "Oh it’s hard to imagine".
John Lennon: "It’s easy if you try, Dick".
It’s a riot. Let’s look at the great lyrics that so many ‘Imagine’ are a workable blueprint for the world that they say they so sincerely pine for. It's just those nasty Neocons that are stopping it from happening, man!
“Imagine there's no heaven”. Why? For step one to a solipsistic nihilist moral relativism, that’s why! So no Church, no Western Canon, no Enlightenment, no Industrial Revolution, no black Church, no black music, no rock n’ roll! No Beatles? No Lennon and no ‘Imagine!’ Check.
“It's easy if you try”. Empirically deluded and an impossibility at best, and at worst an utter lie.
“No Hell below us”. Well, yes, while there is only molten magma, kudos for a good step two toward a pass with honours in Nihilism 101. Check. Er, a vision of Hell can be had backstage at the Grammy's.
“Above us only sky”. Oh, and the troposphere, the stratosphere, the planets and stars and so on. Hey, no God you say? You're boring me.
“Imagine all the people, living for today...” Imagine the electricity going off, people dying in hospitals and no road rules. Imagine Africa and North Korea as one!
“Imagine there's no countries”. Imagine seeing people as simultaneously dreamy and what makes them human as entirely disposable.
“It isn't hard to do”. Again absurd. Er, balls.
“Nothing to kill or die for...” This is my favourite. Everything is meaningless and worthless and yet all is er, cool and groovy!
“And no religion too...” Er, and we know which religion pop stars dismiss glibly by default, and it ain’t Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism or Crystals.
“Imagine all the people...” Yes, not as individuals.
“Living life in peace...” Doing what exactly? Apart from boring one another.
“You may say I'm a dreamer...” Yes, precisely and not a very good one.
“But I'm not the only one...” Since 1967 there has never been a shortage of clueless Leftard Liberal boobs.
“I hope someday you'll join us...” You mean at the Hilton? As long as you’re paying, mate. Send a Limo for me will ya?
“And the world will be as one...” And we will all be the same as what? We’ll all be Taoists or interpretive jazz dancers or? Who wants to live in a share house with er, everybody?
“Imagine no possessions...” How is this good exactly? So nothing to cook with and no shelter? So rolling naked in the mud without dentistry and infested with parasites while attacked by wild animals that are not so stupid? Um, isn’t food a possession? Isn’t the means to produce it possessions? Isn’t intelligence and rationality something you can possess? Not in the Madhouse of Crazy Mirrors that is ‘Imagine’ land, folks.
“I wonder if you can...” Er, no. I can’t. Not without drugs and especially while I watch you drive by in a limo or see a colour spread of your vast mansion and estate, with its own island. If I could imagine such insanity and believe it, I'd try to get professional help. And er, I prefer to imagine achievement, initiative, innovation, progress and the prosperity and abundance it brings.
“No need for greed or hunger...” So greed causes hunger? Not a lack of an economy? Well, I’ll be. Lend me a million or two then, will ya John? Not that I’m greedy, just hungry! Let me lessen the chances of you being tempted.
“A brotherhood of man...” A brotherhood of clones. Yes, Lennon lived in a big apartment and then invited the Brotherhood of Man to perform there, as they weren’t currently then on tour.
“Imagine all the people...” That’s some imagination you’ve got there. I mean, imagine everyone? At once?
“Sharing all the world...” The one empty of possessions, incentive, an economy, common sense and any depth of emotion beyond that of a passive house plant where everyone is mass produced? Er, that one? Or maybe just a world without hubristic and annoyingly bloated pop stars? Now that I can imagine.
“And the world will live as one...” Ah, global Socialism. That’s gotta work!
There is in John Lennon and many a super absurd millionaire's celebrity posturing, a Peter Cook and Dudley Moore as ‘Derek and Clive’ routine just screaming to get out.
Clive: "Ladies and gentlemen, a warm welcome for saviour of the world and billionaire Jack Lemming, here to perform his wonderful song ‘I Made Gin’".
Derek: "Oh, thank you Tony! And without further ado, ‘ere it is!
[Derek at piano and Clive on vocals.]
I made gin about eleven,
It’s easy if you’re fried.
Oh hell just fucking blow us,
All over the bathroom tile.
I made gin for all the people,
A bunch of parasites.
Imagine there’s no drugs,
I can’t get hard if I do.
Nothing to fucking get out of bed for,
And no idea too.
I made a gin for Yoko,
Living life as a bag.
You may say fuck off".
Derek: "He’s an arsehole!"
Clive: "But I'm not the only rich cunt.
I hope you’ll never join us,
Cos there’s not enough fucking room.
Imagine no fucking celebrities,
I wonder if you can.
I need some weed or heroin,
And a blow job in a Limo.
I made a hit for Yoko,
Sharing the same fucking spoon...
Oh, a warm round of fists for a real talent, a real talentless shit, it’s Jack Lemming, the famous prick and arsehole..."
Derek: "Thank you, Tony, you’re too kind, I..."
Clive: "Yes, I’m sure I am..."
Derek: "I try to be. I want to save not just this world but other worlds such as Mars if there’s any life there..."
Clive: "Wonderful. Now if you could just take us out with a nice reprise of your great load of shit..Imagine that."