I haven't been around in quite a while. Preparing an old house for sale, rehabilitating the new house, and dealing with some stressful legal issues have taken up most of my free time over the past year. Editing the revisions of my first two books in electronic formats for Nook and Kindle took a bit more. The only chops I have been able to do were the illustrations for my third book,
The Wal-Mart was Paul: The Completely Unauthorized Beatles Sing Along Book.
I would not have been able to illustrate this book without the skills I learned here at PSC. That is not to say it is a masterpiece, but I think the parody lyrics are funny enough and the illustrations good enough for government work.
In order to avoid copyright lawsuits, I used only public domain source images in addition to my own material. This turned out to be quite a challenge.
Here is the cover:
Most of the caricatures in this rogues gallery are American political figures. There are a couple of Hollywood mugshots. I wanted gnomes because one makes an appearance in one of the parody songs. I couldn't find a serviceable public domain gnome anywhere, so I photographed a pair of them at a local nursery. I took altogether too many photographs for this project. I am not a competent photographer, so I ended up adding plenty of noise and filters to the finished images. And so on. Creating this parody cover was a pain in the butt.
Below are a three illustrated songs from the book. Feel free to comment on images or text.
There is a Chinese shopping mall in Toronto with a store that sells the latest pirated videos at five bucks a pop. The selection is better than that of their competitors in New York, but the quality is sometimes lacking. If you don’t mind The War of the Worlds with Mandarin subtitles or Batman Begins with a few crucial minutes missing here and there, it’s a “must visit” when traveling to Canuckistan. It makes one wonder, though, what else they might be appropriating. Books? It’s something to think about–perhaps even something to sing about. You can’t beat “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” for a useful melody. Strip away the drug-inspired lyrics, and have at it!
Seuss Has Been Revised in China
Picture a yak in a junk on a river
with Siam I Am and green egg rolls for chow.
Something got lost in translation, I’m guessing,
by copyright thieves in Macau.
Horton’s not hearing a who anymore—
now he’s a panda named Mao.
Sneeches, the Thneeds, and funicular goats
are all gone.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Bartholomew Cubbins wears mandarin hats,
Yertle plays ping pong with harsh yellow spies.
Mulberry Street’s a Tiananmen alley.
The Lorax is jailed in Shanghai.
Soldiers with red stars appeared at his door,
cuffed him and took him away.
He represented a Western ideal,
now he’s gone.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Picture a cell with Ying One and Ying Two,
the Lorax, the Cat in the Wok,
Suddenly someone is there. It’s the turnkey,
a man with a little red book.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
Seuss has been revised in China.
“I’ll Cry Instead” is Lennon’s disturbing portrait of a frustrated social misfit. The fellow responds to rejection by crying and daydreaming of being “locked up.” He’s got a chip on his shoulder and a plan to break the hearts of girls “all ‘round the world” once he recuperates from this latest blow to his manhood. Sounds a lot like young Ted Bundy. Maybe Lennon intended to inspire serial killers–it’s difficult to say. Someone ought to ask him about this and other disquieting matters.
The Guy Is Dead
I need Lennon to explain this walrus stuff–
the meaning isn’t really plain enough.
If I could get him here,
I'd make him spell it out real clear,
But I can't ‘cause the guy is dead.
I want Harrison to tell me why it’s wrong
to plagiarize another person’s song.
And if I could see him now,
I'd force him to explain somehow,
But I can't ‘cause the guy is dead.
Don't want to channel to communicate,
or get a Ouija board and stay up late,
But cloning isn’t all that far away,
So maybe they’ll come back someday.
And if they do I’m gonna hide all the drugs,
the sitars, and the oriental rugs,
And maybe give them both a slap,
And tell them not to write the same old crap.
Until then, the guys are dead.
Don't want to channel to communicate,
or get a Ouija board and stay up late,
But cloning isn’t all that far away,
So maybe they’ll come back someday.
And if they do I’m gonna hide all the drugs,
the sitars, and the oriental rugs,
And maybe give them both a slap,
And tell them not to write the same old crap.
Until then, the guys are dead.
McCartney the balladeer clearly appealed to adolescent girls. His juvenile blather about ideal love must have laid the foundation for great disappointment later in the lives of these young fans. Consider “Here, There, and Everywhere.” Its pleasant melody cannot rise above its sappy lyrics. There isn’t a trace of reality in them. Everything is goo-goo eyes and eternal love. Where’s the arguing, the farting, and the cold silences of real relationships? The disappointment, failure, the depression? What about all the love that crashes and burns, or merely suffocates? McCartney should have mixed a little truth with the fluff and come up with something we could sing along with honestly.
Beer, Chair, and Underwear
To help get through my life … I need a whole lot of beer.
Beer, I drink it each day of the year.
My liver is shot and my nose is bright red.
Soon I’ll be dead, and then I’ll be in the clear.
There, lounging in my underwear,
Eating cold pizza and watching TV.
My wife is speaking, but I act like she’s not there.
I’m in my underwear, with my cat beside me
sitting in my favorite chair.
Why he loves me I don’t know and I don’t care.
I give most people a scare.
I’m here to tell you that love often dies
When women or guys grow fat and have thinning hair.
I’m in my underwear, with my cat beside me
sitting in my favorite chair.
Why he loves me I don’t know and I don’t care.
I give most people a scare.
I’m here to tell you that love often dies
When women or guys grow fat and have thinning hair.
I’ve got beer, chair, and underwear.
Beer, chair, and underwear.
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I just wanted to share how useful PSC has been for me. I'll be back to chop one day soon.
Cheers,
Tawiskaro
