Now, if ever, is the time to sell me a bridge in Brooklyn. I’m ultra-suggestible tonight. I just watched this documentary called The Last Testament of George Harrison on Documentary Heaven. If you haven’t seen it, take a look because it’s really interesting (no matter what you think of the content).
I won’t give away too much, but the documentary is narrated by someone claiming to be George Harrison, and he’s talking about the Paul-is-Dead-and-We-Replaced-Him-with-a-Lookalike rumor. He calls the lookalike Faul – short for False Paul.
After watching the documentary, I pulled up some pictures of Paul and Faul and there are definitely some suspicious differences. It could be due to natural causes like aging or the glue I sniffed earlier. Or it could be that the real Paul McCartney died in 1966.
Just thinking about a conspiracy that big blows my mind. Assume for a moment it is true. Paul McCartney died in 1966. Can you imagine being the guy who stepped in to Paul’s life? He must have had a life prior to becoming Paul McCartney, right? He would’ve just decided to stop being himself and take on a new identity. The idea is really appealing, don’t you think? Starting tomorrow, I’ll introduce myself as Marilyn and stand over subway vents and see if anyone buys it.
Without delving into the intricacies of celebrity-worship, here’s a hypothetical case. What if there was some hard core Beatles fan out there who was devoted to Paul for years and years, and suddenly this guy says, “I’m actually not Paul.” Would this fan feel that her life was lived in vain? How different would everything have been for her, had she been told the truth?
At least she could’ve gotten over it and transferred her affection to someone like Dr. Phil, who is also a celebrity and has a couple advantages over Paul McCartney in being:
b) in no position to reject anyone’s romantic advances.
I’ll admit I’m biased. I want the whole Faul thing to be true. Only a Faux Paul could explain Wings.