Paul Is Dead, Is Tony????

A buddy stopped by this morning while driving through the hood on his rounds. He immediately launched into conjecture on the meaning of you know what. That’s right, the final episode of . . . well . . . you know what. Need I say its name?

No.

Here’s what this scene meant. And that abrupt ending was Tony fading to black, just like he and Bobby talked about out on the boat a few episodes back, about what happens when you die. No, wait a minute, remember back early on when he first started going to Dr. Melfi and talked to her about his blackouts? That’s the deal. And the guy with the Members Only jacket on was actually, etc., etc.. Ad nauseum.

So here we were, three reasonably intelligent folks with real lives and real endeavors and family stuff to deal with and a garden to tend to and errands to run and blogs to write and movies to see and a College World Series to prepare for and a war going on in Iraq and another one in the offing in Iran and a president and governor doing their best to undermine all that this country and state stand for and Paris Hilton in the hoosegow and what we were we doing?

Picking apart The Sopranos scene by scene.

This was, of course, after I’d spent too much time earlier in the morning, reading all sorts of similar considerations across this big wide beautiful world wide web of ours.

Which got me to thinking. (Not usually worth a mention, but here I think it’s relative.) The last time my generation — nay, any generation — was similarly obsessed was back when the whole Paul Is Dead brouhaha mesmerized the Beatles fans among us. That was, what, forty plus years ago? More than two score of years, if you’re talking Abe Lincolnese. Paul McCartney was dead because if you listened to “I Am The Walrus” backwards, well, you’ll get it. On the cover of Abbey Road, Paul’s the only one without shoes, or is it vice versa? Well, you get the point.

Which is to say it’s about time for some righteous nonsense. If only to get our minds off global warming, Idiot Dub, $4 gasoline and the fact that pure Paris Hilton is in jail.

So I guess this all makes Tony bigger than the Beatles. Figuratively and literally. And gives cause to yet one more query. If the Beatles were bigger than the Lord above, where does that put our favorite Soprano viz a viz God?

No Comments

No comments yet.

Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI

Leave a comment