Fic: Preaching Practices
In keeping with the same vein of Paul talking about current events in his life with John, here is a recent fic along the same lines:
Title; Preaching Practices
Author: Kathryn O
Timeframe; January 2011
Summary: After asking India to declaire a National Vegetarian Day, Paul reflects on the ironies of his and John's activism
Disclaimer; I have no idea what Paul dreamed about that night
That twilight time right when a person is going to fall asleep but is still not fully there has always been fascinating to me. I really like understanding how my own brain works. I've had many insights into myself during that particular moment. I've met others who aren't even aware of it but I think they're missing out on something special.
The first time I mentioned it publicly was when I talked about the inspiration I had for the song Yesterday. That song came to me during that time between waking and going to sleep. It sounded so clear in its entirety. I could still even remember it when I woke up later and at first I thought maybe it was some old standard from my childhood. My father was always playing old songs for us as we were growing up. I figured it was maybe one of those, you know? But I checked it out. I hummed the song for George Martin and anybody else that might be able to recognize it and they all said they never heard it.
“I think you may have an original one there,” George responded to me.
So, that's one big example of how that twilight time is special to me for many reasons.
I've had other visions or dreams or whatever they were that I could never really share with anybody. Who'd want to listen to them anyway? Rambling musings of an old man's mind. I had a pretty vivid one recently though.
It was just back in January right around the beginning of the year. I was doing some work regarding the Meat Free Monday's Campaign. You know, asking people to give up meat just once a week in favor of a veggie dish just to save both animals from suffering and the environment since it is more taxing to produce meat then other foods. What I had done was to write a letter to India's Prime Minister Manmohan Singh urging India to declare a national vegetarian day as a step for the environment, the animals and peoples' health. It was public knowledge of what I had done as as I had hoped, the story was carried by the news as a way of spreading the message.
It didn't seem like such a far stretch for India to embrace vegetarianism. It was in India back in the 60s when I first encountered the diet. I didn't appreciate it much back then like I do today. All of us had first gotten into a veggie diet way before it became sort of trendy because of our interest in Indian mysticism and the Maharishi and all that. I figured if I got any detractors speaking out it wouldn't be from those people and I was right. It was the Westerners who were part of the meat industry who made fun of me for being a millionaire telling poverty stricken Indian people what they should be eating. Hey, veggie food is still cheaper and easier to produce then meat. I stand by my original comments.
I had just been informed of some of the reactions in the press to my letter that very day and it was still very much on my mind as I finally fell asleep that night. I was quite aware of how tired I was and how I was gratefully fading as I drifted off into slumber land. Funny that I call it twilight. Sometimes it seems my room is in black and white and shades of gray during that time but then, I do have my lights turned off. Sometimes the things I might see in my head start out in black and white before they move into color when I'm fully asleep. That's if I can even remember them because I don't always.
I had an image in my mind as I fell asleep. It was one of those old black and white films of us as the Beatles horsing around or something. Only John wasn't John. Well, he was but he wasn't wearing his suit and mop top haircut. He was older, one of his much later incarnations. He had the long hair parted in the middle and his round glasses. He stuck his face in mine, blocking off my view from the rest to the scene as he said to me in that distinctive voice I'd know anywhere, “It's amazing how much more like me you've become as you've gotten older, Macca.”
“That's because we had a lot in common when we first met,” I croaked weakly in response. I wonder if I was saying that out loud while lying in my room?
“Yeah, we did. But it's funny how you're taking on characteristics of me that before you used to make blatant fun of,” He sneered at me.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “I'm not following.”
“You don't remember? That big public battle we had going on through our songs? You took a swipe at me with Too Many People and then I responded back with How Do You Sleep?. It went on for a while with the entire world watching. You were the one who started it and why? What did you say to me first?” John challenged me.
“That you blew your big chance. You took your lucky break and broke it,”I responded with a very weak voice. I don't know why my voice was so weak. Maybe it was because I was so sleepy? Maybe that wasn't a dream but really a vision of John? I can't say for sure. What we talked about next made me wonder if it was my subconscious talking to me.
“No, it wasn't just that,” He chided me. “It was about me preaching practices telling others what they should be doing. You made that comment about all my activism. It was like you were against what I was saying.”
“Some of your activism had been aimed at me,” I suggested. “Like when you staged a funeral for me in New York with some of your radical friends because you said I was out of touch with the youth I had been trying to reach.”
“But it's ironic how it's come around full circle with the preaching, isn't it?” John said. “You're now well known for your constant preaching about animal rights and vegetarianism. In fact, more people know that side of you then are even familiar with some of your latest albums and music you've done. Look who's been preaching the practices now? Telling people what they should be doing?”
“I found something I really believe in,” I responded.
“Just like I did before you,” he countered. “Maybe now you might understand me a little bit better.”
“I do,” I admitted. “I didn't really back then. I sort of get it now but my methods of getting my message across are different. I'm going a different route.”
“Having your daughter speak insults about hippies seems to be working very well,” He interjected. “I'm still wondering about her comments myself having know she was raised by hippies. Could it reveal a secret parental resentment that the outside world isn't aware of?”
“Stella is doing fine,” I countered him. “I'm proud of what she accomplished.”
“Yeah, well if her mother had been around to hear her insult hippies like that at the launching of the campaign, she would have never gotten away with it. To me it seemed like she was directly insulting Linda.”
“Stella would never be doing that. Stop saying things like that.”
“I'm just saying that's how it all came off. Ironic since it seems like something I might do instead.”
John was right about that. “She was called the Mad Hippie when she was getting her name made in the fashion industry,”I told him.
“Ah yes, the industry of eating disorders and gay men dictating what women should wear as if they understand anything about a real woman's anatomy.”
“Stella's not a gay man,” I reminded him.
“No. I guess she's not. Just some outspoken rich girl with an attitude about herself while being against others to make herself important in her eyes. You're right. I guess she's less like me then I first realized. But it still is ironic that after all these decades, the tables have turned and you are the one known for preaching practices now. Go on and tell us all what we need to do next, Macca.”
And then after that I don't really remember any more of it. I think I must have started another dream or something because what follows in my memory was stuff right out of dream. I'm just glad I remembered it when I woke up. It gave me something to think about and it came right from my heart.