if you're asking me "lauryn did you just email kristina busse, a professor, founder of the journal 'transformative works and cultures', editor of 'the fanfiction studies reader', and all-around expert on fandom and shipping, just to ask her what she knows about mclennon shippers pre-internet?" i plead the fifth.
“I’m very, very pleased that Sir Paul McCartney is here today. Because I thought — and it’s not necessarily very well known — that he just behaved impeccably during George’s demise. During the long time George was dying, Paul was there and was just wonderful and supportive in a way that you would just not imag— well, [in a way that] you’d want a friend and an old colleague to be there with you. And it’s not terribly well known, but George actually died in Paul’s house, which is rather an amazing fact. And it’s one of the reasons I won’t go and stay with John Cleese.”
— Eric Idle, Speech at George Harrison’s Hollywood Walk of Fame Ceremony, 2009
Enjambment is the continuation of a sentence or clause across a line break. For example, the poet John Donne uses enjambment in his poem "The Good-Morrow" when he continues the opening sentence across the line break between the first and second lines: "I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I / Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?"
These are the examples that I could think of right now of Paul hopping across lines (well, if you agree with where the cuts are placed, as lines in a song can be written in several ways, and if you agree that the breaks in syntax are unusual enough to be considered poetic/interesting enjambments) :
...
I've just seen a face I can't forget
The time or place where we just met
...
I was alone, I took a ride
I didn't know what I would find there
Another road where maybe I
Could see another kind of mind there
...
Ooh, you were meant to be near me
Ooh, and I want you to hear me
Say we'll be together every day
...
And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong, I'm right
Where I belong, I'm right
Where I belong
...
There beneath the blue suburban skies
I sit and meanwhile back
In Penny Lane there is a fireman with an hourglass
...
And when the broken hearted
People living in the world agree
There will be an answer
Let it be
...
Mull of Kintyre
Oh, mist rolling in from
The sea, my desire
Is always to be here
Oh, Mull of Kintyre
George Martin and Paul McCartney on Working Together Again in the Eighties
“Paul’s decision to ask George Martin to produce the prospective album was an important decision. George remembered the circumstances: ‘We had always kept in touch, and had just been out together to dinner; and just as they were leaving, Paul said ‘Oh, there’s one thing I forgot to ask you, would you like to produce my next record?’ I said well now you tell me! My immediate joke was--why spoil a beautiful friendship?...Then I said yes, I’d love to work with you again, but will it work?’
The two men had combined their talents on the one-off ‘Live and Let Die’ single in 1973, but this would be their first full collaboration since ‘Abbey Road’ in 1969.
George: ‘I was apprehensive, and so, of course, was he. We’d both been apart for a long time, and weren’t sure how we would react to each other. And I said, well, if it’s really going to work out, you’re going to have to accept some stick from me, and you may not like it, because you’ve been your own boss for so long. Anyway, we started working together again, and he realised that if I was going to be any use to him, I had to be a critic, but a positive critic, not a negative one. Well, we got on fine, and embarked on ‘Tug of War,’ and here we are, three years later, still working on it!’
Paul was equally enthusiastic about the collaboration: ‘It was very good because I hadn’t realised how well we knew each other. When we got back into the swing of it, and were actually recording rather than being nervous, I just remembered...I’d say he has to be one of the best producers in the world, I don’t think there’s much doubt about that.’”
[3:32] George flirting with Dusty Springfield
[7:39] Ringo reads his ID bracelet inscription
[11:32] Paul sleeps with his eyes open (?)
[15:09] John: “Let me see your scabs” Paul: “Hey!”
One of my favorite things about people that I've observed but never realized there was an emotional symbolism to (surprisingly...I mean, you would think I would've realized that) is noticing when people scratch at/fidget with their head with their middle finger specifically. I've noticed it especially in filmed interviews with people, that everyone seems to do it at least once, and it's so funny to me because the underlying emotion that causes them to do that (that they are usually not aware of, by the way) is disdain for or anger toward someone.
And if it sounds weird to say that it's one of my favorite things about people, I don't mean that it's my favorite thing to literally recognize when people are angry, or whatever; it's my favorite thing to notice because people who do it are often not aware that they're doing it. It's my favorite thing because people are people and they'll reveal small things like that about themselves without noticing that they do. In case that still sounds weird, I mean that what I appreciate about it is the connection - the interconnectedness of humanity. That we all do little things like that (even when we're angry at each other). But it also makes me wonder...what would happen if we verbally communicated those feelings more rather than leaving our bodies to subconsciously (but mostly unconsciously) reveal them? Would we stop doing them entirely?
a fact about me is that i was an early bloomer who hit puberty in elementary school and was immediately, obnoxiously horny in ways that were uncomfortable for everyone because no one is prepared for an elementary schooler with b cups and a deep fascination with movies where people get tied up. another fact is that because i was considered smart for my age in the ways that mattered, i just accepted all this as a single package, the many ways that i was not really a child the way other children were children but was instead a miniature adult. i was technically a child, but not really, as far as i was concerned. it also did not occur to me until around high school that i was fat, because i instead considered myself to be sturdy, to be buff, to be built like a tank.
so somewhere around middle school i am noticing the ways in which i am Not Like Other Girls, the ways in which i am not what society says a girl is and the ways that things marketed to girls do not appeal to me. i don't know how other girls dealt with this, but i very rationally decided that i was only technically a girl, in the way that i was only technically a child. so i looked at the things that did appeal to me, and that i did enjoy, and reverse engineered my demographic to decide that on a practical and functional level i was a middle-aged man. i had also gotten really hornily into wolverine because of the first x-men movie, and ended up reading a lot of comics, so as you can imagine the comic book version of wolverine who is short and built like a tank and older than he looks despite being for all intents and purposes a middle aged man really had some appeal to me.
there are idiots who say shit about how tomboys would be considered trans these days or whatever, but i can assure you that was not what was happening here. by middle school i already had to special order bras and i was fine with that because of the many weird fetishes i was developing, none of which can be blamed on the internet because i hadn't found that shit yet and also to this day you would have a hard time finding anything similar to the things i wrote in my secret notebook and immediately destroyed. the fact that i was technically a girl was vital to all this. media where there was a big reveal that some cool dude had been a hot chick the whole time was my shit. weird feral beast people who turned out to be hot women once they took a bath? fuck yes. i would never have cut my hair because that would have ruined my chances to take off a helmet and reveal that i had girl hair. at no point did i think i was anything but a girl, it was just that i was functionally a middle-aged man, who was a girl.
what this means is that i still liked all the things i already liked, such as leather jackets and comic books and anime and old stand-up comedy, but i also did extensive research on the other things i felt i should like according to the demographic i had assigned myself. i watched vh1's 'i love the 70s' with the air of someone trying to hide their amnesia, even though my parents were children in the 70s. i got into the beatles. i tried to get into cars for a while before accepting that i only liked the vintage car aesthetic and couldn't be fucked to know actual car facts. i wore nothing but cargo shorts and aloha shirts for a while, which didn't really stand out that much because it was middle school. i bought a fedora and became a libertarian atheist. i made plans to buy a motorcycle (i could not ride a bike).
i gave up on it after a while because quite frankly my titty situation meant there was never really going to be a big reveal that i'd been a girl the whole time. it was pretty obvious even with the cargo shorts. also the older of a teen i was, the more likely it felt that i could maybe get laid, except i could tell that was never going to happen as long as i kept wearing cargo shorts. it took longer to give up the fedora because it was leather and i wore it with my leather jacket and fingerless gloves, which i convinced myself worked a lot better after i'd gone full high school goth. i lived in the desert so you can imagine how well that worked out for me, smell-wise.
anyway that's how my female socialization went, i don't think it was particularly successful tbqh