Maybe Paul was dead after all

Now, let's get one thing straight at the very beginning, I do not support the Newfoundland seal hunt -- at least not in the way it's carried out. I love animals, sometimes much more than people, and the concept of cruelty appalls me at many levels. And, those baby seals are so excruciatingly cute. Let's face it, we're all suckers for cute. The divinity made young animals cute to improve their survival capacity because adult animals avoid (sometimes) harming the cutie-pies in their midst.
That notwithstanding, a body has to make a living, and certain fiscally hardpressed Newfoundlanders have made a supplemental income in a harsh society by providing the maws of the overprivileged with seal pelts -- especially the pelts of those baby seals. It's an ugly thing. Would I indulge in such an activity were I hungry enough, or were my children hungry enough? I cannot answer that. Neither can most of us who haven't been there.
All of that notwithstanding, what is with fad of the moment, unspeakably pampered Paul bloody McCartney coming to the ice floes to grandstand about something he knows absolutely nothing about? And, he brought his tiresome and unaccomplished wife to help spread the gospel according to St. Paul on Larry King, yet. What on earth does Paul know about the issue? He knows no more about it than that equally insufferable, egotistical and rich paddy called Bono knows about world poverty. Yet, both these obscenely rich minor musical talents feel they have the right to lecture us all about our transgressions. McCartney, who amasses more money in a minute than the average Newfie does in a year is going to point out to them the error of their ways?
You know Paul, I think. He was once in a short-lived musical group in the 1960s called the Beatles. He was the 'cute' Beatle. He was, if truth be known, never much more than the cute Beatle, despite his protestations to the contrary. But, see my comments earlier about cute, and you'll understand why he got so many largely undeserved accolades. People like cute. In my bias, he wasn't worthy of holding the coats of either John Lennon or George Harrison in terms of musical worth. This is Mr. Ebony and Ivory, in case you've forgotten.
Anyway, 'Sir' (speaking of unwarranted accolades) Paul, go home, count your money, fire up a doobie and reflect on how you attempted to steer some impoverished Newfoundlanders into the paths of righteousness.