there is an old saying in the news business: 'If you can't print the facts, print the legend.' this, then, is a legend of john lennon's death. it is briskly written, and quite entertaining, but it is like a Disney version of recent history. Nothing but likeable characters: even the obvious assassin, Chapman, does not come off as too dark of a character, for, you see, he too is a victim; of mental illness (his 'little people, urging him to Do It!, Do It!). He was so obliging as to inform the arresting officers that he did what he did on his own ( 'not a conspiracy this time.') they did not care to comment, being mostly concerned with getting John to the hospital before he bled out completely to see what the doctors could do with him there. the writer takes us in that emergency room and leaves us with an image of john gasping for breath on his back on a hospital stretcher, all alone, while ALL MY LOVING plays on the hospital's MUZAC machine. later Yoko is led in, and sits on the floor of the room while john expires above. many previously published facts which could have led people to believe that this was a hit, rather than a 'random act of violence,' are left out , in this new book. I am reminded of Edgar Hoover turning a blind eye toward organized crime, until Bobby Kennedy became his boss. Or the highly esteemed New York Times' ignoring Stalin's purge of 30 million Russians. With the passage of time, we get books like this, where everything is sanitized. Of course our leaders don't want us to think for ourselves. You do know that, don't you? "And you think you're so clever so classless and free. But yer still fucking peasants, as far as I can see."
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