Bang Bang, Shoot Shoot

I’d love to talk about the shooting in the mall in Utah but I cannot work up enough passion for the subject to do any research on it. It heard that the shooter was a Bosnian born Muslim youth. Talk about irony. A Muslim gunman going (I cannot say postal because I have a good friend in the US Postal Service) all Taliban (I like that better anyway) in a state that has a large Mormon population. Maybe I should say Latter Day Saints but ya’ll know what I mean.

I would rather talk about The Beatles “White Album.” I put White Album in italics because it is what the album was called not what it is named. The fact that the cover was white I am sure holds some kind of significance. This was one of the 1st albums I bought as an adult. I purchased a Sony Walkman cassette player in 1980. The White Album was one of the first tapes that I bought along with the Rolling Stones Black and Blue (a great blues album.) It literally wore those tapes out. Since they were cassette tapes, the listening was linear. That is a phrase this generation does not understand. If you didn’t like a song, you had to fast forward through it or pick up the needle and move it. For the most part, you learned every song on the album whether you liked them or not.

So happiness is a warm gun. From what I have gleaned from reading about the Beatles, it refers to shooting heroin, although John Lennon, who is credited for writing the song, denied that. There seems to be a strong hint in the song in favor of that being the correct interpretation though. The lyrics have that usual Lennon flair for vividly describing a person as to imply some personality trait and there by categorizing that person for the listener. Along with the catchy music that accompanies the song, it is a great listen. Since I do not have sound attached to the site yet, here are the lyrics. Enjoy.


She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do do do
She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand
Like a lizard on a window pane.

The man in the crowd with the multicoloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the Nation Trust.

I need a fix 'cause I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cause I'm going down
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun
Mother Superior jump the gun.

Happiness is a warm gun
Happiness is a warm gun
When I hold you in my arms
And I feel my finger on your trigger
I know no one can do me no harm
Because happiness is a warm gun
-Yes it is.