I am now watching A Hard Days' Night, in my usual five minute increments, spread over a week (I am not much of a video viewer). Reveling in a classic British humour, the likes of which I have not since Peter Sellers' The Party and Chaplin's Easy Street. Kinetic wordplay and silent-film era stunt comedy, combined with tunes that still hold up to discerning ears
The Beatles were a mixed bag dropped right on the head of middle America, as those of my mom's generation well know. That generation was infected and influenced by pop culture more than any other. Mass receptivity mirrored the indiscriminate nature of the threat posed by nukes and modern warfare I suppose––not just the quicker means of transmission.
By 1964 standards, the Beatles came off as cheeky libertines with droog* influences. Swinging '60s was no metaphor. Thank god we had people like the Beatles at the fore, saying wise, nonsensical, things. And sending out musical messages that resonated––the anti-war thing was no joke, people were close enough to tragedy to remember.
Donald Trump may be the first U.S. candidate ever who does not remember, and is not held accountable for willful ignorance. Though he has been brought to heel for gross innuendo. Alfred E. Neumann inhabiting a 60 year old body does not go over well in Kansas and other reliable bases of support.
*Clockwork Orange and its homonym.