Excerpted and repurposed from Overgrown and Cosmic Midnight Night Shifters
by Zack Kopp
All the World’s a Stage, said William Shakespeare. Nothing is real, said the Beatles. There exists a whole corpus of historical data beyond consensus knowledge even belated students are party to with a little research. Things like Beatle James Paul McCartney died or was replaced seem completely unlikely, at best barely possible, to people who haven’t looked beyond the officially sanctioned record.
“So, what do you think of the theory it’s not the same guy now?” you might ask anyone “That he’s been replaced?”
“Preposterous.” they’ll dismiss it without thinking twice, even the freakiest people you know won’t believe it at first. “Why would they cover it up?”
“Don’t you think it’s interesting, though?”
“Well, I just saw some clip on YouTube and dismissed it as preposterous.”
“Sure, there’s a lot of disinfo. But all this evidence. Height difference. Blood test. Eye color. Ear lobes. Plus, John Lennon was killed, and somebody tried to kill George. Don’t you think it’s interesting?”
“Isn’t that some old conspiracy theory from the sixties?”
“Maybe they covered it up for economic reasons. They were thinking of the Gross National Product. The show had to go on. Or maybe the whole thing was hijacked by the intelligence community for social conditioning reasons, I don’t know.”
Posts on Facebook vary from political stumping and sociological commentary to celebration of writers and musicians to engaging memes posted by others as apparently frivolous as “Are Gary Busey and Nick Nolte the same person?” or “Is Donald Trump Andy Kaufman in Disguise?” “Is Alex Jones Bill Hicks?” And because broadcast news is increasingly bought and paid for, increasingly less objective, more customers are turning to this new Wild West where memes compete for attention, where truth and lies are equally abundant, to get a reliable sense of the times. A common motif in this territory is unexpected drastic role reversal of celebrities and political figures—Donald Rumsfeld is really a lizard; all the Laurel Canyon rock stars from the 60s had “secret government” connections; the Beatles were clones; Paul McCartney is dead; Stephen King shot John Lennon, not Mark David Chapman. In this New Wild West, celebrity status equates to sacrificing control of one’s public reputation. When they die, stars like Michael Jackson, Robin Williams and Joan Rivers are accused of having been murdered by the Illuminati, or faking their deaths. Worst case scenarios sell when the truth is a guess—if it bleeds, it leads, and people en masse have an eagerness to believe the consensus. Two hard facts by contrast are that celebrities have always used doubles and governments of every kind have always used celebrities as spokespersons for their aims. The rest follows from these two understandings.
There’s a video clip on YouTube of a young man named Stephen Dickinson in Liverpool whose mother apparently used to date Paul, in which he states that all four Beatles (including Paul’s replacement) paid a visit to his mother’s home there in 1975, presumably to pay her off or warn her to stay quiet, during which visit Stephen claims Sir Paul’s mother attempted to strangle him before being called off by Ringo. Dickinson’s mother’s name was Irene, and Paul is said to have had a girlfriend named Irene, and his resemblance to Paul’s brother, Mike McGear (formerly McCartney) has been noted. However, it would be extremely hard to conceive of such an encounter during a time when each of the four members was midway a solo career and John was actively fighting extradition from New York, Paul was, George was Ringo was, not to mention the sheer unlikeliness of. Having said all that, if we accept the postulate that the Beatles was never a band as such but a highly-controlled propaganda operation, it would be possible, despite the unlikeliness of Paul’s mother having come along, which makes it sound more dream than fact or memory. Dickinson also claims to have been in the womb 10 months, inviting more doubt. But anything is possible.
After reading a book called Billy’s Back excerpted from a larger work called The Memoirs of Billy Shears purportedly written by the man who’d been playing Paul McCartney all these decades, whose name was William Shepard, and “encoded” with acrostics by Thomas E. Uharriet, I understood clearly just how much of the Beatles’ mystique was shadow show, particularly after having understood that song for the first time ever as a metaphor for the accumulation, over time and repeated surgical modifications, of a passable replica for the late Paul McCartney. This book’s narrative, relating an adventure in which Shepard had “leveraged” an existing network of powerful Satanists as a way of gaining musical renown. At first the encoder’s unusual name had seemed obviously fictional, then I looked it up on Facebook, and sent the owner an interview request with a link to his blog, where the best of his freelance career was archived. Besides living in Salt Lake City, Utah, where he couldn’t avoid exposure to Mormon culture, and having written a couple of other books on the subjects of Zen haiku, some powerful examples of his own, and coauthoring something called 12 Days of Pumpkin—nice title—to judge by the content of Billy’s Back, Thomas E. Uharriet was either in touch with Shepard himself or had cleverly cashed in on an undercurrent of speculation and interest which had been brewing in western pop culture or decades, potentially aided by the extent of Mormon anti-Beatles literature while at it. The Memoirs of Billy Shears had two strong points in its favor. Firstly, it was published by Peppers Press, a subsidiary of MACCACorp. The United States of America—Macca is known to be a nickname of Sir Paul’s, but he may or may not have used the imprint for any of his own productions. Secondly, the book includes the disclaimer that any and every part might be deliberately fictional, which disclaimer effectively immunizes the author against lawsuits and proof of any falsehood.
Per another line of thinking about McCartney’s death and replacement, the Beatles were the premier modern artefact in a line of show business clones being perpetrated by the secret government since the 1930s. That one made sense, because of drastic discrepancies he’d noticed from picture to picture in such intimate details as the shapes of their noses and whether their earlobes were attached. Possibly these were just doubles—which they were said to have used—and nothing so far-flung as clones or androids, though it could have been either and, if nothing else, proved beyond any doubt the use of doubles. The most popular theory involved a car crash, but this had been proclaimed disinformation by advocates of a narrative where McCartney had been assassinated. Howard followed a series of links pertaining to the ongoing Paul Is Dead research and soon became party to an elaborate subplot or backstory to the Known Beatles Legend, involving top secret social engineering and mind control by top British scientists just after World War Two when the science of psychological manipulation, or master-minding, let alone social engineering as a tactic, were wild and undisciplined. Per the ostensible William Shepard in Billy’s Back, several other pop stars, including the Rolling Stones, the Who, and Donovan, were part of the same operation and knew of McCartney’s replacement by Shepard, but kept it secret, outside their own lyrics, many of which had always seemed essentially meaningless, and made sense for the very first time after reading that book. But this is the Age of Brand New Things. Anything might be true. Anything might be false. Sometimes they all seem equally likely. It’s all about public relations. The number of witnesses, circumstantial evidence. Per one line of thinking, the other three Beatles had played along, being by this point too deep in the UK’s social engineering thicket to expose the deception except via clues in their lyrics and album covers. And there sure are a billion of those—to drop a few, barefoot and right-handed on Abbey Road, Sgt. Pepper’s, and “I buried Paul” at the end of Strawberry Fields, to say nothing of the forensic evidence. Or maybe they’d all been replaced for refusing to go along with it. Or maybe it was all a big production and none of the players quite knew the whole score, and the clues are only there so the forces behind it could hide in plain sight like good Luciferians. Maybe not.
A man named John Halliday in Liverpool resembles the young Paul McCartney exactly, as does a man named Colin Unwin the young John Lennon. These men are believed by some to have been the original models. Lennon’s alleged final replacement, look- and soundalike Mark Staycer, had starred in a film called “Let Him Be” postulating that John survived his 1980 assassination attempt, only snippets of which were available anywhere now, and there were rumors Yoko Ono had suppressed it. In other words, John Lennon may never have lived or died, at least not in the way we thought he did. It’s only a guess, but however that band was connected to whatever the secret government consisted of, perhaps they made that connection in Germany, where John’s art school best friend Stu Sutcliffe died of an undiagnosed brain tumor a year after being kicked in the head by some Teddy Boys in Liverpool, or John Lennon, depending whose speculation you go by, at this late date. Speaking of which, there exists a YouTube clip asserting that Sutcliffe was one and the same with Andy Warhol, who came on the scene just as Stu disappeared. Interestingly, another band had formed in Hamburg called the Monks a few years after the Beatles stopped playing its strip clubs, made up of disaffected American G.I.s under the direction of an eccentric German promoter, all of whom shaved the tops of their heads in traditional monk’s tonsure, and whose self-proclaimed mission was to be the “Anti-Beatles.” They were possibly connected to something too. Hamburg’s red-light district long served as the training ground for aspiring musicians—from the Beatles to the young Billy Childish—and for this reason, would have provided an ideal hunting ground for crowd pleasers to draft.
Paul Is Dead being one of the more generous modern mythos, giving continually of further evidence and convolutions of itself, some portions at first easily disproved, only to be supported upon revelation of further evidence, it remains a fertile field of study for those with interest. According to someone named Billy Martin who claimed to be a Beatles insider in touch with Sir Paul, and was connected to a series of clips called The Rotten Apple posted on You Tube, then one called iamaphoney, both ostensibly started by longtime Beatles insider Neil Aspinall, Paul’s double was planning to give up the secret upon retirement from performing, placing suitcases full of clues in major cities all over the world, and getting ready for the Big Reveal, but still sopping up every last drop of fame and acclaim playing that role and writing those songs all those years had accrued. Further offshoots claimed all the Beatles had been replaced at various points, that Paul McCartney was the same woman as Barack Obama’s mother, or that none of them had ever existed. Someone claiming to be Stephen Dickinson recently posted a blurry black and white pic of a heavy man half-resembling him going past on a bike. The shot was rapidly debunked by another Paul is Dead-themed page on Facebook even as its administrator played nice with the erstwhile Dickinson on another thread, presumably having blocked him from the one satirizing his post. Uniting all these contending factions was the understanding that the Beatles’ previously unequaled command of attention had been leveraged by the Powers That Be as a tool for social engineering, with John’s unlikely counterpart Yoko Ono having played an integral role in his reprogramming, or of whoever was playing him then at least seeming to have been reprogrammed. Strawberry fields nothing is real. Perhaps most interesting is the proposal that McCartney bodyguard and longtime Beatles insider Mal Evans, generally considered to have been shot by police in 1974, had, in fact, staged the whole Paul is Dead trip to cover his own reinvention of self through faked death.
Suspicious photo promoted as being of James Paul McCartney.
Authentic photo of James Paul McCartney.
All this deviltry across the pond was reportedly initiated by an organization called the Tavistock Institute, reportedly founded by Aleister Crowley, but in fact more properly associated with names like Sigmund Freud, Carl Gustav Jung and R.D. Laing, all of whom lectured there since its founding by a group of key figures from the Tavistock Clinic and British Army psychiatry including Elliott Jaques, Henry Dicks, and others in 1947. There have been allegations that Great Beast 666 Crowley was Sir Paul’s father as well as the true sire of former First Lady Barbara Bush, making them siblings. Tavistock was allegedly in league with the CIA’s ingeniously coded MK-Ultra or Mind Kontrol program, allegedly responsible for a lot of propaganda disguised as groovy music in Laurel Canyon, where many residents were popular musicians who came from military and intelligence lines. This project was supposedly discontinued in 1972 but is allegedly responsible for much of today’s popular music, and God only knows what else modern. Mind Kontrol in the sixties was different, its aim being to suppress a natural instinct as opposed to sustaining an unnatural one, like now. Those Doors and late period Beatles albums, artefacts of the psychedelic era I’d come upon in my parents’ bookshelves as a child, ownership of which he’d always considered emblematic of their discerning tastes as erudite PhDs with metaphysical leanings, in fact, these were allegedly the two greatest horns of that underhanded program to nullify protest through mock revolution. Did you know Jim Morrison’s father was the Naval Admiral who fired the first shot in the Vietnam War? Did you know Jim came from a military bloodline dating prior to the foundation of America, even unto internecine Scottish clan conflicts?
The Beat Generation, which developed in the late 1940s and was popular in the 1950s as the first “counter culture”, was supplanted in popularity by a Love Generation full of ringers, and it was Neal Cassady, who drove Ken Kesey’s Acid Bus, to provide the link to that MK infection, albeit completely unwittingly, psychedelics having been intended as a behavioral controllant for the masses, the idea being to promote Inner Peace as a means of avoiding opposition to the war in Vietnam. The idea of replacing a valid rebellion with a controllable apparent one makes sense, considering how the trend toward elevation and expansion of consciousness around here had flared up and died out beyond, for the most part, individual cases. This is all taken care of. Faked identity scares are a big part of the incremental destruction of faith in standards planned by the Hidden Powers, according to a video clip I saw recently on cognitive infiltration—all the way from splitting the mind between Republicans to Democrats to all the viral celebrity hoaxes referenced earlier, each imbedded with the false belief that every star might be a clone or a fake. And whatever that says about whoever Sir Paul McCartney was, or wasn’t, and supposed institutions like the Beatles—you be the judge. Everyone’s walking around drugged on mind control unknowingly, and blinkered by this other paradox at the same time. You see the dimensions? Recent reports suggest the entertainment industry is in the hands of sex maniacs or pedophiles. Or it’s all an AI hoax. Realizing all this, each of us is shown to be one of many people trapped in the same big, weird maze again, and perhaps we feel foolish for acting like such islands about everything all the years of our lives. Utterly humbled by God. It seems like a good place to start over.
A recent visit to Stephen Dickinson’s page featured a posted photo of a heavyset man riding past on a bicycle resembling more closely Jackie Gleason than Paul McCartney, potentially disinformation posted by someone else using his name to make his claims of being McCartney’s son seem ridiculous and guarantee they never receive a fair hearing, since the page’s owner stands by its accuracy, making statements like, “Don’t know why your [sic] asking Tina I know my dad when I see him.” or “That’s of him when he was younger”. He went on to say things about Sir Paul having come from Arizona, I think it was, of there being a large Scottish population there, and of his mother’s name having been “Lilian Nancy McGill.” Enthusiastic promotion of claims easily debunked, and defamation of witnesses are both proven tactics of disinformation agents, both used in well-debunked Last Testament of George Harrison a couple of years ago. I attempted to contact whoever it was, but the offending page has since been removed. True or false, when I read Billy’s Back, at least twenty more lyrical clues no reporters or clue-bugs ever seemed to have noticed in the past, all of which seemed completely plausible, some more easily contradicted than others, were revealed, and his statement that parts were deliberately false, instead of disproving anything, opened the door to reading between the lines, not just of the McCartney story, but all things customarily taken for granted. In other words, you can make it fit with any theory you can think of, especially the part about the told truth having always been a lie. This understanding is dis-illusioning, precisely, but in no way discouraging. Our ignorance of the truth behind the politics and entertainment industries’ portrayal of whoever their stars are, from epoch to epoch, that keep me aware of reality’s boundless potential. When it comes to the apparent world, we’re only guessing.
Zack Kopp is a writer whose blog is at https://rentparty.blogspot.com/.