I was always a John guy, not a Paul guy. Paul didn’t even place second. He was behind George. The reasons were obvious. Lennon was biting, acerbic, and subversive. McCartney was merry and eager to be your mate. John was politics. Paul was entertainment. (“Imagine,” the global peace anthem Lennon wrote with Yoko Ono fifty years ago, opened the Tokyo Olympics on Friday.) I knew which side of that divide I was on. And yet, in my dotage, as I was watching the new Hulu documentary series, McCartney 3,2,1, I softened on this once all-important distinction. In this six-part series, acclaimed producer and music exec Rick Rubin, a pioneer of hip hop, chats with McCartney in a recording studio with a console that allows them to listen to and remix the individual tracks of assorted Beatles tunes. A free-flowing conversation ensues, as the pair discusses how the Fab Four recorded many of their culture-changing creations.

The series is chockful of wonderful moments, as Sir Paul describes the various techniques they developed in the studio and the nifty tricks they employed during slapdash, on-deadline sessions. The guitar riff on “Hard Day’s Night,” for instance, was recorded at half speed, an octave lower, and then sped up in the final mix because Lennon couldn’t play it fast enough. (Do we now feel cheated knowing this?) There’s an oscillator tone that only dogs can hear on Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (which got its name because McCartney misheard Ringo Starr when the drummer asked for the salt and pepper.) And as McCartney shares poignant memories of his former bandmates and their early days, he affirms that his songwriting partnership with Lennon—arguably the most successful artistic collaboration in human history—succeeded because of their yin-yang dynamic. He was the sunny optimist; Lennon was the dark cynic. McCartney points out with a chuckle that when the group was recording “Getting Better” and he sang, “It’s getting better, a little better all the time,” Lennon threw in, “It can’t get no worse.” In a nutshell.

There’s probably not much that McCartney can say at this stage to cast new light on his relationship with Lennon. Since Lennon’s murder in 1980, their collaboration has been explored in countless books, articles, documentaries, and podcasts. But it’s a delight to watch him revisit their glory days in EMI Studios (later dubbed Abbey Road). A significant component of the conversation focuses on the crucial role of McCartney’s under-appreciated bass-playing in the band’s oeuvre. Rubin and McCartney’s dissection of the bass line on “Come Together” is fascinating. “Now I know what I played,” McCartney says with a laugh.

What’s most beguiling about McCartney is his charming and straightforward description of his sixty-five years of songwriting. Reflecting on his creative process, he tells Rubin: “That’s what I’ve sort of done my whole life. That’s what I am still doing. Just trying to discover a little thing that sounds nice. Someone said Mozart once said, ‘I write the notes that like each other.’ And I like that.” McCartney’s attitude is highly uncomplicated: “That’s what I love about music, life. There’s always that next little song you can be thinking about or writing.” Next little song.

For the harder-edged among us, McCartney could come across as sappy. (“Silly Love Songs”?) But in the Hulu series, his devotion to the task of producing “a little thing that sounds nice” over and over again is heartwarming and admirable. Lennon was the artist-activist who wanted to change the world. Harrison was the spiritual seeker and searcher. McCartney is the cheerful chap aiming to make the planet a happier place with his ditties. (If you want to get happy, join the 61 million people on YouTube who have watched the visit to Liverpool McCartney took with James Corden for the Carpool Karaoke series and his surprise concert at a local pub.)

Eight years ago, I saw McCartney perform at Nationals Park in Washington, DC. I went with low expectations—mainly to accompany a friend—assuming this past-his-prime ex-Beatle would phone in a bunch of golden-oldies to rake in easy money. I was wrong. The performance—his singing, his playing, and the accompanying band’s virtuoso work—was impressive and inspiring. The show featured smart and moving tributes to Lennon and Harrison. Half a century after the Beatles’ first trip to the United States, McCartney was still busting his bum to please, please us. It was menschy.

Still, it was tough to shake the remains of the John-Paul clash that they each fueled with bitter songs about the other following the group’s breakup. That battle drew in passionate partisans. After Lennon was assassinated in 1980, legendary rock critic Robert Christgau, approvingly quoting his wife, wrote, “Why is it always Bobby Kennedy or John Lennon. Why isn’t it Richard Nixon or Paul McCartney?” He continued: “The fact is obvious enough. Dylan, of course. Jim Morrison, possibly. Neil Young, conceivably. But Paul McCartney? Neil Diamond? Graham Nash? George Harrison? Ringo Starr? Never--because they don't hold out hope, even if they'd sort of like to be able to. John Lennon held out hope. He imagined, and however quietistic he became he never lost that utopian identification.” Ouch. Imagine being compared to Nixon in this bloody wake. I cringe when I read that now, especially remembering that at the time, enveloped by anger and grief, I considered this sharp and accurate commentary. My apologies, Mr. McCartney.

I may not be ready to turn in my John Is Number One t-shirt. But after viewing McCartney shooting the breeze with Rubin, I’m prepared to say the John versus Paul debate that once captivated so many was fundamentally stupid. Of course, McCartney and Lennon needed each other—and the tension between them—to produce all that magnificent material. But on his own, McCartney was driven to create music that sounds nice and increases the level of delight in the world. He succeeded. What’s wrong with that? Nothing.

Dumbass Comment of the Week

It’s a toss-up between Rep. Madison Cawthorne (R-N.C.) and Fox News propagandist Sean Hannity. Spreading a noxious disinformation conspiracy theory about Dr. Anthony Fauci—based on bullcrap that Sen. Rand Paul has been relentlessly hurling—Cawthorne absurdly alleged Fauci is a “pawn of the Chinese Communist Party” and called for locking up this hard-working public servant for supposedly lying to Congress about the origins of the coronavirus. “We want to prosecute this guy to the full ability of the law,” he declared.

During an interview with Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Fla.) and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis, Hannity took a profoundly dumb shot at the president: “What is the Biden doctrine? To kiss the ass of every single solitary dictator in the world?”

Tough choice, but I’m going with Hannity. This is a guy who has been a Trump worshipper for the past five years. And let’s consider how many authoritarian asses Trump placed his lips upon (metaphorically) that never irked Hannity and the rest of the Fox mob: North Korea’s Kim Jong-un. Turkey’s Tayyip Erdogan. Hungary’s Viktor Orban. Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro. The Philippines’ Rodrigo Duterte. Saudi Arabia’s Mohammed bin Salman. And, oh yes, there was this fellow named Vladimir Putin. For yet another display of infinite hypocrisy, Hannity takes this week’s prize.

Got a nomination for Dumbass Comment of the Week? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Mail Bag

Many thanks to Peter Sagal, the host of NPR’s Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me, my absolute favorite public radio news quiz show, for his early endorsement of this newsletter. In a tweet, he said, “We all have way too much to read, and we waste too much time reading it, but I am enjoying -- and learning things I did not know! -- from my pal @DavidCornDC's newsletter, ‘This Land.’ Try it out!” Always listen to Peter.

In a previous issue, I recounted a UFO sighting I experienced when I was a kid. Reader Stephen Farr sent me his own not-too-close encounter story:

Around 1970, I was 16 and living in Chatsworth, CA. It’s at the north-western end of San Fernando Valley, next to the Santa Susana Mountains that border Simi Valley. One evening around 10 pm, I was outside with a friend, and we may or may not have been smoking a joint! We both saw a bluish glowing cigar–shaped object moving slowly west toward the hills, I estimate about 1000 feet up, very low. It was visible for about 30 seconds and then we lost sight of it behind the hills. We were both stunned, not sure of what we had just witnessed. Back then, nobody believed you, especially two 16-year-old teens out at night.

A few days later in our newspaper was a story about an oil company VP who lives in Simi Valley, driving home at that same time that night, on the 118 Freeway through the Santa Susana Pass. He saw a bluish glow to his right, and looked down the embankment to see a large, cigar-shaped object sitting, on the ground he thought, about 100 feet below, he reported. He was driving and only saw it for a few seconds, but his detailed sighting validated our same UAP [unidentified aerial phenomenon] sighting. We then told our parents and others, but we were met with chuckles & guffaws!

Yes, it was 51 years ago, but my friend and I are sure we saw it, backed up by the corroborating witness. It’s vivid in my memory, and I’ll never forget it!

Jane Abbott wrote to suggest two shows to watch. First is The Bureau, which I highly recommended in a previous issue. The second is Netflix’s Lupin: “Delightful, slightly comic-book but smart plot, with elements of depth. English dubbing tolerable except why the heck didn’t they correct them when they pronounced it ‘Lu-pen’?” I gave Lupin a try and only got through a few episodes before the implausible plot developments soured me. The lead character, Assane Diop, who is a highly skilled thief and operative looking to avenge an injustice inflicted on his father, needs info from a person in jail. Naturally, he arranges to be arrested and incarcerated in the same facility, obtains what he needs, and then finds a way out. Snap. No prob. I might return to the show.

Vivian Brandon sent an email in response to the item comparing anti-epidemic actions taken in 1898 by President William McKinley and then-Rough Rider Teddy Roosevelt to Donald Trump’s mishandling of the COVID-19 crisis. “This is my favorite article to date,” she noted. Thanks, Vivian. History is full of lessons learned or, in the case of Trump, not learned.

Nancy Krempa reported: “For some odd reason, I didn't get pictures in the first ‘This Land’ you sent out. Then I got pictures in the next two, but I stopped getting pictures again. I get the captions…..I'd hate to miss any Moxie-cam pics!” Sorry about that, Nancy. I’ll ask the ops crew. If anyone else is having this problem, please let me know.

Got something to say? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.

Read Previous Issues of This Land

July 22, 2021: My bizarre encounter with Rep. Jim Jordan—and why Speaker Pelosi was right to bounce him from the 1/6 committee; celebrating and grieving with musician Steve Earle; and more.

July 20, 2021: The time a Republican president did the right thing to stop an epidemic; Trump’s big narcissism fail; Nelson Algren and Norman Podhoretz; a new psychedelic Beatles-esque tune; and more.

July 17, 2021: Why the Guardian’s Trump-Russia bombshell—dud or not—doesn’t fully matter; Dumbass Comment of the Week; why Bosch works in spite of Bosch; MoxieCam™; and more.

July 15, 2021: Does President Joe Biden really stand with the Cuban people?; the time I really pissed off the Cuban regime; J. Edgar Hoover vs. MLK; one of the best movie reviews of all time; and more.

July 13, 2021: A coming referendum on Donald Trump; a suggestion for Hunter Biden; a new book on how the super-rich screw us all; and more.

July 10, 2021: Why the Republicans are right to be terrified of the new House committee investigating the 1/6 attack; Dumbass Comment of the Week; Joni Mitchell’s Blue 50; and more.

July 7, 2021: How The Summer of Soul counters the GOP’s season of hate; a debate on the recent UFO report; Garry Trudeau, American Dostoyevsky; MoxieCam™; and more.

July 3, 2021: Donald Rumsfeld, Christopher Hitchens, the Iraq War, and me; the perils of taking a home DNA test; Dumbass Comment of the Week; a Springsteen story; and more.

July 1, 2021: Ivanka Trump, Donald Trump Jr., and perjury; Adam Serwer’s new book; Cézanne’s crime scene; and more.

June 29, 2021: How the new UFO report is bad news for UFO believers; my own UFO tale; HBO Max’s Hacks; an anti-racist anthem; and more.

June 26, 2021: Is Josh Hawley dumb or evil? (The answer is not both); Dumbassery that encourages mass “executions” in the United States; renowned guitarist and songwriter Richard Thompson’s new tour and new book (and his claim regarding the best strings arrangement ever on a popular song); MoxieCam™ (before and after photos!), and more.

June 24, 2021: How an alleged 1/6 conspirator who called for executing Trump’s foes hooked up with a prominent Republican Party official; new Los Lobos; and more.

June 22, 2021: Why the GOP is pushing “political apartheid”; Ted Cruz wins Dumbass Comment of the Week; recommendations for an Apple TV+ series and a book on the curious origins of the universe; the first Clash tour of the United States (and being trapped in a van driven by a punk on acid); MoxieCam™; and more.

Got suggestions, comments, complaints, tips related to any of the above, or anything else? Email me at thisland@motherjones.com.