All the World Is Birthday Cake

The first solo album by a Beatle. I used to post it on George's birthday as well as his two *!GREAT!* Yellow Submarine songs - and the two best Beatles songs, yo. *!LOUD!* please, with flashbacks if possible.







I wasn't going to post these today but I was poked and as amused as I was supposed to be by the Fuck the Beatles bait from friends today, and yes, I am your dancing puppet, so have all three. I'm listening to them now anyway.

With a Yo-Ho-Ho and a Ya-Ha-Ha and a Ye-Hee-Hee-Ho-Hum, with a Yo-Ho-Ho and a Ya-Ha-Ha and a Yum-Yum-Jum-Jum-Jum, or: Born Seventy-One Years Ago, Sixty-Five Today

George was born seventy-one years ago. I never need listen to The Beatles again, so often did I hear them I can play any song in my head any time I want and often when I don't, but I still love George, I've always loved George, I've always loved George best, people can vouch. Love love love.

High Egoslavian Holy Day. It's also this guy's birthday, he's sixty-five today:







His shoes cost more than your house. Here, the best George Traveling Wilburys song which is simultaneously the best Traveling Wilburys song. That I like a band with Bob Dylan and Tom Petty and the unfortunately named for me Jeff Lynne is testament to my love love love for George.







Here, the full album, quite possibly the second most listened-to album of my life.







No links today, probably tomorrow, though Prunella tells me John Doe is 60 today, gives me songs.







Also too, per Egoslavian tradition, The Pirate Song.

High Egoslavian Holy Day Eve, Woo!

Other than my anniversary and loved one's birthdays (Planet's being Highest!) there are no higher Egoslavian Holy Days than tomorrow. Two big birthdays, George's  (I still love George, have always loved George best, people can vouch), the above song one of my go-tos when I listened for soft landings of crashes. Let me know if you want a particular post-Beatles tune (nothing against George's Beatles songs, I don't need to hear Beatles songs, I can pull one up in my head whenever I want), Wilburys welcome (though Handle with Care, George's best Traveling Wilburys song and the best Traveling Wilburys song, is already in the post).

The other you'll have to wait though have this clue: His shoes cost more than your house.

Don't Try This at Home. On Second Thought, Come In, Your Tumbling Face Ungladden

A friend who knows my love for George sent me that song as greetings last night. Read his latest post and work backwards. Also, keep it in front of you. Check the Terms of Service agreement. Eleven things he tries to do to achieve a marginally productive relationship with the internet. On not making a living. I don't think this means the rebirth of Old Dirty Bama's blog, though here's hoping.  Proust, for those of you who do. Beckett, for those of you who do. A collapsing sign. You choose: debut novelist or garage rocker? A slideshow from yesterday. Fourteen Joy Division songs for Ian Curtis' birthday. Aargh-noise returns tomorrow, or not. Yes, I post this all the time, the best Traveling Wilbury's song, a George song:





SUBURBAN BURMA

John Ashbery

Don't try this at home. On second thought, come in,
your tumbling face ungladden. And see what happens.

The boy said, I have the look of two
through the other side of the shower. And how do we
get that, except by adding it up
in one long, fateful column.
The others are with you. Space occurs. Naturally. Not every
impulse makes it through to. You have you.
Are you a big person in the morning.

Angels of the New Year winnow followers.
We go through the motions
again. And breezes come in.
Those who remember the past are doomed to repeat it.
Plus, it's part of history.
We, however, have no such druthers.
We'll build a higher vandalism, "with the look of ending."
We were both trying to hide.

A hotel is not a big clay window
stepfathered in,
resists any effort to change the subject.
Be calm and get your stuff.