I love Jorge and miss him a great deal but his loathing of the Fabs was always puzzling to me. In '62 Britain was still in the grip of grey, post-war torpor and our voice was essentially that of the carping, nagging, middle class tones of the Pathe news men.
That four working class blokes from the industrial north should have initiated such seismic and global cultural change should delight a man of Jorge's persuasion. Our Empire was finished so the Mop Tops effectively replaced it with a much more far reaching empire of the mind.
To disparage the Beatles in one breath and then laud and applaud a barber shop quartet like the Beach Boys beggars belief.
He was probably one of these people who change their English names to Irish ones. The sort who are actually called Bill Smith, but style themselves Liam Mac an Ghabhain* or whatever.
*I'm sure sw will correct my spelling here. Although I find the notion of spelling in Irish a rather droll one.
Well, say what you will of Jorge, if I ever found myself in the dock accused of crimes I had not committed, I'd want as many Jorges on the jury as possible. I fear you b, and Sir C, would simply want me locked up asap so you could go for a long lunch.