Greetings, po-pickers. Ring-a-ding-ding, lets have an autumn equinox swing Wireless 2 style, for the last offspring of dead beatle John Lennon – Sean, looking as thick as pig shit and twice as nasty, leaps aboard the nostalgia bandwagon, in the company of Paul McCartney and Ethel sorry Elton John, to commemorate the old man’s 80th birthday in October (if he hadn’t got bored and Lennon pere’ turned his toes up at 40):
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-54252598
The same turgid old songs, the same threadbare backstage stories, the usual slimy self congratulation, with a nice dollop of misty eyed nostalgia.
Lennon fathered another son, before abandoning him and his mother, while the Beatles were still a name, Julian, and surely he would have been a better choice?. Wee Sean was just a mewling infant at the time John kicked the bucket (Mark Chapman represented the Performing Rights Society, and used his gu to tell him he wasn’t performing right), and despite the fact he is mixed race (Chinkies are the new BBC minority) he had only just entered the world when the Beatles were four middle aged men trading on the success of two decades earlier.
Nominated by: W. C. Boggs




