It was recently determined that monkeys do not like what we call music. I am not sure if this means they hate everything from Mozart to that new Jay-Z song, but apparently they do not appreciate music we like.
Why is this? Perhaps they think they are better than us, perhaps hearing our music only reminds them of how oppressive we have been toward all animals for thousands of years.
Now, musicians are making music for monkeys–and they like it. You know how elevator music is intended to put us in a better mood? Imagine the control we could have over these creatures, we could control them! At the very worst, we can tell them that the music they like sucks.
I’ll get to my main point in a bit, but first, don’t expect me to be going anywhere anytime soon. The U.S. Centers for Disease Control just named my hometown, Burlington, Vermont, the healthiest city in the country. Sure, I haven’t truly lived there for the better part of a decade, but hey, I’m healthier than you. Now on to other matters.
Paul McCartney, I have a bone to pick with you, and it’s not even about the fact that you’re looking saggier than usual these days. You too, Yoko Ono. Sure, you got the raw end of the deal and all the blame for splitting up The Beatles, but what you’ve done since then is what I’m here about. Ringo Starr, you’re OK with me. For the most part, you’ve kept to yourself and gone on to do other things like “The No-no Song” and you even recently announced you’re not going to sign autographs anymore.
But for the love of Sgt. Pepper, enough with the Beatles merchandise. Every year, some new form of repackaged Beatles work or book or home movie or biography or television special is released. Don’t act like you’re not behind it. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: Enough with repackaging Beatles crap