The year was 1968. Chaos enveloped the globe. In the United States, civil rights and anti-war activists clashed over the escalating conflict in Vietnam. The assassination of political and civil rights leaders like Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King spread distrust and panic amongst the populace.

In Europe, Soviet tanks rolled in the streets of Prague as the Kremlin tightened an iron grip around its empire. Student protestors poured into the streets of Paris, nearly shutting down the French capital.

John Lennon and The Beatles felt this mounting tension. As the calendar year turned, the band departed to India for a meditation retreat. It was here on the rolling hills of Rishikesh where Lennon sketched out the song Revolution — the group’s response to the growing unrest.

In the coming months Lennon’s idea would sprawl into three separate tracks. Two conventional tunes released on record and as a single, and one spaced-out song collage that remains the most experimental and controversial recording in the group’s catalog.

While Revolution may not rank as the most popular Beatles song, its genesis and influence is among the most fascinating. It shows both the band responding to the times, and gives us a glimpse at the creative process in the later stages of their career. Here is a brief look at the recording and reception of Revolution.

Origins

The Beatles never intended to be a political band. In fact, manager Brian Epstein did everything he could to steer the band away from speaking about social issues. He wanted the group to remain a pop act, not a political organization.

But as cultural norms shifted in the 60s, the group changed with them. The band began experimenting with psychedelic drugs and eastern spirituality. By 1968, the once lovable mop topped quartet now sported shaggy hair and hippy clothing.

Despite their evolution, the group had yet to take a stand on the collective calls for rebellion and dissent. This silence rankled leaders of the counterculture. French film-maker Jean Luc-Goddard even accused the group of being “corrupted by money”.

These accusations, as well as Epstein’s death in 1967, compelled the band to clarify their position. As Lennon explained to Rolling Stone Magazine:

“I had been thinking about it up in the hills in India. I still had this ‘God will save us’ feeling about it, that it’s going to be all right. That’s why I did it: I wanted to talk, I wanted to say my piece about revolution. I wanted to tell you, or whoever listens, to communicate, to say ‘What do you say? This is what I say.”

Lennon returned to the UK determined to address the subject in song.

Early Recording (Take 18)

On May 30th 1968, The Beatles began recording Revolution. Lennon paired his lyrics with a down tempo blues guitar riff.

On the last take of the day (known as Take 18 in Beatles lore), the group broke out into an extended jam session. The final 6 minutes of the recording featured improvisational and vocal interludes with members of the group laughing and screeching into the microphone. This psyched out coda would provide the inspiration for Revolution 9.

While Take 18 never made it onto any Beatles albums, it provided the skeleton for all three versions of the song. It was released to the public as part of the 50th anniversary edition of The White Album. Check it out below:

Revolution 1

The track titled “Revolution 1” is one of the two versions of the song released on the White Album. It’s a more polished recording of the first four minutes of Take 18. On the track producer George Martin removes the experimental outro and adds horns and backing vocals.

Revolution 1 is perhaps the most stripped-down version of the song. It’s bare boned and moves at a crawling tempo. This shows in both the music and lyrics.

In this rendition, Lennon seems even more unsure of where he stands on the revolution. After delivering the line “but when you talk about destruction, don’t you know you can count me out” he meekly adds the word “in” — as if to appease all sides.

Revolution (Single Version)

Lennon remained determined to release Revolution as a single. However, he received push back from his bandmates. Both Paul McCartney and George Harrison thought the tune was too slow to catch the ears of the audience. They doubted it could chart as a single.

Eventually the band reached a compromise. They would record a more upbeat version of the song to release as a single, and plug the slow version towards the end of their ever-expanding White Album.

The single version of Revolution injected the song with a hard rock energy. It replaces the down tempo blues with distorted guitars. The lyrics themselves take a more decisive stand with Lennon firmly stating that if you talk about destruction, you can “count him out.”

Despite Lennon’s insistence, Revolution did not end up as a single. It served as a B-side to McCartney’s smash hit Hey Jude. However, this recording remains the most popular version of the song, and continues to be a fan favorite.

Revolution 9

The final version of Revolution bears little resemblance to the two previous iterations of the song.

In fact, “song” might not be the most accurate word for the recording. Lennon describes Revolution 9 as a sound collage. It stretches the final 6 minutes of the Take 18 and adds additional layers, overdubs, effects, and tape loops. Lennon says:

“That was a picture I painted in sound of the revolution, which was complete murder and killing and people screaming and kids crying and all that, which is what I really thought it would be.”

There is a wide range of opinions on Revolution 9. Many fans consider it the worst thing The Beatles’ ever released. While some critics praised the groups bold experimentation. Rolling Stone editor Jann Wenner said: “Revolution 9” was “beautifully organized” and “had more political impact than “Revolution 1”

Love it or hate it, the song leaves an impression. Listen below if you dare:

Legacy

Did The Beatles Revolution stick it to the establishment and shake the world?

Not really.

The song was met with a tepid response from the counterculture. Many ignored Lennon’s feeble endorsement of revolution, and dismissed his insistence that all “would be alright”. The song reached peak infamy when Apple Computer used it in a television ad.

As a single Revolution enjoyed modest success. It peaked at number 12 on the Billboard music chart (a relatively unimpressive accomplishment for Beatles standards). It remains a popular song, but nowhere near as beloved as songs like Let It Be and Hey Jude (the song released ahead of Revolution as a single).

The experimental Revolution 9 birthed its own twisted legacy. It fueled the “Paul is dead” rumors. Some saw its chaotic structure as a sign of the Apocalypse — most notably cult leader Charles Manson who references the song multiple times in his manifesto.

While Revolution may not have changed the world, it provides a fascinating look at the band and the times. It shows how the seeds of an idea can morph into three entirely different products- each inspiring a legacy of its own.

For that alone it stands out as a worthy subject of discussion.

What do we do with suffering?

This is a question Nick Cave — author, musician, and Bad Seeds front man — can answer better than most. The death of his son inspired his last albums, Skeleton Tree and Ghosteen– two highlights in an impressive and expansive discography.

Last month, Cave experienced another tragedy with the passing of his lifelong collaborator Anita Lane. Following the event, a fan wrote to Cave asking if there is value in suffering. And wondering if there is anything we can do to stop from being crushed beneath it’s unbearable weight?

He had this to say:

“What do we do with suffering? As far as I can see, we have two choices — we either transform our suffering into something else, or we hold on to it, and eventually pass it on.”

Cave frames the utility of suffering not as a question, but a choice.

To live is to suffer. It’s inevitable — a painful price for being human. All of us experience death, decay, heartbreak, betrayal. We cannot avoid this, but we can choose what we do with it:

Hold onto it.

Or transform it into something else.

To choose the second option Cave believes:

“We must acknowledge that all people suffer. By understanding that suffering is the universal unifying force, we can see people more compassionately, and this goes some way toward helping us forgive the world and ourselves. By acting compassionately we reduce the world’s net suffering, and defiantly rehabilitate the world. It is an alchemical act that transforms pain into beauty.”

In the moment, suffering acts as an agent of alienation- a reminder of the personal toll of the world’s woes. But when viewed broadly, suffering unites us.

We all suffer. This is a fact so universal that the Buddha made it the First Noble Truth of his religion. The philosophies of Existentialists like Albert Camus and Victor Frankl hinge on the existence of suffering and our ability to find meaning in its midst.

To some, this is unwelcome information. Who wants to be reminded that everyone on the planet is bonded by suffering? But as Cave points out, this realization opens the door for healing and empathy. It connects us. Allows us to act compassionately, which ultimately minimizes the net suffering in the world.

The alternative, to hold onto our pain, leads to something much more sinister:

“To not transform our suffering and instead transmit our pain to others, in the form of abuse, torture, hatred, misanthropy, cynicism, blaming and victimhood, compounds the world’s suffering. Most sin is simply one person’s suffering passed on to another.”

When we refuse to relinquish our suffering, we feed it and pass it on. This choice shrinks us. It isolates us. It latches on to the worst parts of ourselves and spreads them like a virus.

It’s tempting to dismiss the idea of karma, but through this lens it makes sense. Acting in bad faith not only transmits your pain, but poisons the world we all live in. Everyone, you included, is worse off for it.

So, ultimately what is the utility of our suffering?

Cave asserts it affords us the opportunity to become better human beings.

The ability to transform that which feels personal and painful into something uniting and affirming is perhaps the most beautiful act we’re capable of. As Cave says: it is the engine of our redemption.

This idea gives me hope. I hope it does for you too.

* Click here for link to Cave’s original blog

**For more cool musings from Nick, sign up for his excellent newsletter The Red Hand File

I recently stumbled across a TED Talk from actor Ethan Hawke. In the presentation, Hawke cites the ability to play the fool as the essential part of the creative process.

As someone who’s long been a proponent of making silly art and giving yourself permission to suck, the idea of playing the fool stuck with me.

It’s a role we’ve all played at times in our lives — especially if you’ve chosen to do creative work. In a world full of fools, we are perhaps the biggest fools of them all.

This may sound like a slight, but it shouldn’t!

The fool may be disparaged in polite society, but in the works of fiction and philosophy he is one of the most celebrated characters.

Shakespearean fools were often the wisest folks in the realm. Their lowly status allowed them to speak defiant truths most dared not say.

Philosophers like Socrates embraced the role of the fool by proclaiming their ignorance and stating “the wise man knows he knows nothing.”

In Jungian mythology, the fool is the precursor to the hero. He is the one willing to humble himself for the greater good.

If the fool is indeed a noble character, what does it mean to play one?

Playing the fool means being open to possibility — the fact there is much in the world you don’t know.

Playing the fool means making daring choices in the face of uncertainty. And remaining at peace with the outcome.

Playing the fool means looking at the world with a light heart. If Shakespeare is correct, and all the world’s a stage, the fool sees the grand tale as a comedy rather than tragedy.

However, playing the fool occasionally means looking the part.

Putting yourself out there bare-faced for the world to see and falling short.

But in both life and art the fool is someone brave enough to look stupid. One who can shake off their mistakes and smile at their shortcomings.

For in the seeds of these shortcomings, there is the potential for something remarkable to grow. Something bold, daring, wild, and wonderful which would not exist if you had not made the choice to play the fool.

How do you write an engaging story?

One that sounds smooth and relatable — the type told around pubs and campfires- rather than the stiff, cold ones that can find their way on the page?

In his latest book, Fight Club author Chuck Palahniuk gives writers a recipe to create more natural, engaging stories. He distills this recipe into three forms of communication:

Description — Man walks into a bar

Instruction — Walk into a bar

Exclamation (onomatopoeia) — Viola!

See the three forms come together in the paragraph below:

A man walks into a bar and orders a margarita. Easy enough. Mix three parts tequila and two parts triple sec with one part lime juice, and — voila — that’s a margarita.

To get an idea of how this works, let’s break down each of the three types of communication separately.

Description

Description is a written account of a person, place, or object (ie the man walked into the bar and ordered a margarita )

Books and blogs are written accounts of particular people, subjects, and events. This means almost everything you read is a description.

So practice composing them. Copy your favorite passages. Look for ways to use more expressive language. 

But know description is only one ingredient. Combining strong descriptions with the next two items has the potential to bring more depth to your work.

Instruction

An instruction is a command to your audience. It allows you to give them useful, factual information directly.

For maximum effect, Palahniuk suggests you use short, punchy, active language for your descriptions: 

I.e “Pick up the phone”. “Walk towards the red car.” “Shoot the sheriff in the back.”

On its own, too much instruction turns into something more like a recipe than a story, but when combined with clear descriptions it adds a layer of information that engages the reader and builds your authority as an author.

Exclamation

If you’ve ever eavesdropped on someone telling a story at a bar, you’ve likely heard noises like:

Vhrrooom! Bang! Pow!

Exclamations (also called onomatopoeia) are an essential element of oral storytelling, yet they’re often ignored by writers. If you wish to be a more dynamic writer follow the bar-room raconteur’s lead and add some sound effects.

These devices punch up your story. They act as a chime that pulls in your reader, and signals the next thing is about to be important — so pay attention.

Palahniuk recommends stuffing exclamations in the middle of your sentences. In this position, they break up the two clauses and stress the last part of the passage. 

For example:

“Trapped all day, then could be next walk to toilet, pow-pow, clot knock out brain.”

Let’s Put It All Together

There you have it! A three ingredient recipe for natural storytelling. If you’re looking for an optimal ratio Palahniuk says to aim for:

“Three parts description, two parts instruction, one part exclamation.”

Because information on its own doesn’t make us better writers, let’s put the recipe to use.

Open up a fresh word document or pull out a pen and paper and test it out. I used the ideas to create the work below:

“The man picked his nose. As one does. Dig with the pointer finger. Search for treasure. Until — boom — he’s struck gold! He then flicks away his precious possession and starts over again.”

Let’s see what you can come up with.

During the 90s, The Simpsons writers’ room was a mecca for up-and-coming comedians.

Legends like Conan O’Brien, Greg Daniels, and Pixar’s Brad Bird cut their teeth working on the show. While many notable writers filled the chairs, one name towers above all in Simpson’s lore- John Swartzwelder.

Critics consider Swartzwelder the most prolific writer in Simpsons history. He was one of the chief architects of the show’s golden era. His sense of humor is so unique, writers call jokes in the same vein: “Swartzweldian.”

Despite his reputation, Swartzwelder shies away from the spotlight — a JD Salinger figure in the Comedy world. There are few photos of him, and he rarely mingles with the press. However, he recently sat down with the New Yorker to talk about his time on the show.

As you can imagine the interview was loaded with expert advice about the art and discipline of writing. Here are 5 pieces of “Swartzweldian” wisdom you can apply today.

Get The Hard Part Over Quickly

John Swartzwelder has fifty-nine writing credits on The Simpson — the most in the show’s history. When asked how he wrote with such stamina, he had this to say:

“I always write my scripts all the way through as fast as I can, the first day, if possible, putting in crap jokes and pattern dialogue — “Homer, I don’t want you to do that.” “Then I won’t do it.” Then the next day, when I get up, the script’s been written. It’s lousy, but it’s a script. The hard part is done.”

Swartzwelder’s writing process has much in common with fellow comedian Jerry Seinfeld’s, and Bird By Bird writer Anne Lamott’s. Both of whom recommend separating the activities of writing and editing, and producing a first draft as quickly as possible.

Why is this advice so popular?

Writing is diabolically difficult — it requires staring down a blank page, filling it with thoughts, and hoping they fall in exactly the right order.

By comparison, rewriting is easy. Words, no matter how imperfect, populate the page. They may require a tinker or tweak, but you now have something to work with.

The idea is simple enough, but I’ve found it difficult to follow. My ego simply can’t stand seeing my bad writing stinking up the page. Perhaps you can relate?

If so, Swartzwelder has a suggestion to de-personalize the process. Rather than getting stressed over your initial work, imagine a little elf has snuck into your office while you were asleep and done the crappy writing for you. All you have to do now is wake up and fix his mess.

Give Readers A Bang Upfront. And Then Another!

Since retiring from The Simpsons in 2003, John Swartzwelder has self-published 13 novels. While this tremendous output shows a love of the craft, Swartzwelder has some choice words about books.

“Nobody wants to read a book. You’ve got to catch their eye with something exciting in the first paragraph, while they’re in the process of throwing the book away. If it’s exciting enough, they’ll stop and read it. Then you’ve got to put something even more exciting in the second paragraph, to suck them in further. And so on. It’s exhausting for everybody, but it’s got to be done.”

This applies just as much to people writing on the web. The average person on the internet has a smorgasbord of content to choose from — Twitter feeds, YouTube clips, and an assortment of amusing cat memes to gorge on. If you want them to read your work, you need to begin with a bang! And follow it up with another!!

The second hand clicks even quicker on a digital clock. Now more than ever the audience needs reassurance that what they are about to read is worth their time. So don’t hold back! Give the goods up front. Hook the reader early, and they will happily stick around for the rest of the show.

Write Outside Your Field

Prior to landing a job on The Simpson’s staff, Swartzwelder spent years writing ad copy. Some might classify this past work as a career stumble — a detour from his true calling. But Swartzwelder says his days as a copywriter taught him to write in different styles, work with a team, and deliver on a deadline. He states:

“All ad copywriters are expected to write humor or scientific-sounding mumbo jumbo or any other kind of writing, whatever’s needed for the campaign. And they’re expected to write it fast, too, because it’s due tomorrow. Good training, actually.”

Swartzwelder is not the only notable writer who held an odd job at the beginning of their career.

Vonnegut began his career as a police reporter. Hemingway was a local journalist. Kafka spent most of his life working as an insurance assessor and wrote on the side.

While these early gigs aren’t glamorous, they left an imprint on the style of the authors above, and provided a training ground for them to master their craft.

It’s tempting to set lofty goals and laser focus on a particular style- but don’t limit yourself. Especially early in your career, take jobs outside your desired field that give you the opportunity to learn.

Travel Back In Time For Ideas

Swartzwelder created some of the most bizarre and unique Simpsons characters. Banjo-playing hobos, cigarette-smoking ventriloquist dummies, over-the-hill Country Western stars. When interviewer Mike Sacks asks where he got the ideas for these novel characters, Swartzwelder cites old movies and television programs he used to watch:

These old references give me more things to get humor out of, more raw material, than if I just confined myself to the things that happened this week.

I’ve talked before about the appeal to novelty — the human bias towards ideas which appear new. Today’s hyper-connected society has only juiced up this natural tendency.

Social media feeds provide up to the second updates from across the globe, and many writers work overtime trying to keep up. As a result, we ignore the annals of information and ideas from the past.

If you, like Swartzwelder, choose to dig in the past, you will discover a treasure trove of ideas missed or forgotten by the world. Paradoxically, it is often by looking back that we stumble upon our most novel work.

Many generations have lived before you. Take a minute to visit them and their ideas.

Write What You Would Want To Read

When asked how The Simpsons team created a show with such a broad appeal, Swartzwelder let out a verbal shrug and replied:

We just tried to make ourselves, and each other, laugh. Comedy writers. That was the audience. Luckily, a lot of other people, both kids and adults, liked the same jokes we liked.

The quote above tempted me to label the section “write for yourself”, but I’ve always found that advice misleading. It looks nice on paper, but when taken at face value it leads to bad habits — self indulgent writing, ignoring the audience, mistaking public work for a private diary.

That’s why instead I went with “write what you would want to read.” I find these words truer to life, and closer to the spirit of Swartzwelder’s quote.

When you look at the most beloved creative works, few follow a strict formula. Their success is often unpredictable and inexplicable. However, most have this in common — they’re made by talented people creating something they would want to consume.

Let these words guide your own work. Write the jokes which make you laugh. The blog you would find helpful. The novel you would sit down and read. If the work finds an audience, all the better! If not, at least you enjoyed making it.

Can you remember Kindergarten art class?

For me, it was magic. I can recall memories of staring in awe at a blank page. Filling it with splashes of colors and patterns. And proudly displaying my crude (and likely crappy) work to my parents. It might not hang at the Louvre, but it sure as hell hung on our refrigerator door. The little dude above was one happy camper.

Flash forward a few years…

This slightly older, and scowling version of myself sat in a similar classroom in front of a similarly blank page. Only this pimply, stumbled faced, teenage Tony’s heart raced with terror.

Instead of getting to work he thought: What the heck am I going to make? What if it sucks? What will the girls — who were looking better by the day — think of it? A once exciting grade school art project had turned into a full blown episode of adolescent angst.

What the hell happened?

Unfortunately, sometime between 12 and 14 years old our awe-inspired inner children decide to take a nap. In this moment of slumber a nasty fellow sneaks in the door, steals the keys, and takes command of the ship. I call this nasty fellow: the inner critic.

Unlike his youthful counterpart, this inner critic is not someone you’d want to invite home for dinner. He’s a bit of a buzzkill. A natural complainer. For him nothing is good enough. He is all too happy to tear your terrific ideas into tiny shreds.

I’ve tried on multiple occasions to evict this unwelcome tenant, and give the keys back to the inner child. But every time I think I’ve gotten rid of the critic, he finds a way to sneak back in – the cheeky bastard!

I tried again. And again. And again. Until I got a strange idea…

What if both forces, the child and critic, could split the rent? What if there was a way to harness the wonder of the child and the discernment of the critic? Perhaps the two could get along after all.

To test this out I created:

The Inner Child And Critic Hug It Out Challenge

In this challenge, I want to give both the free flowing and hyper-critical parts of my writing process space to breath. For the next four weeks I will set aside two time slots — 30 to 60 minutes depending on my schedule.***

During the first time slot, my inner child is free to roam. Like a Kindergarten art class, this part of the process is all analog. This means I can plot out ideas on sketch pads, white boards, or note cards — but no computers, tablets, or smart phones allowed.

When the clock goes off, playtime is over. The inner critic is let in and he has (30 to 60 minutes) to turn the child’s mess into something I can post on my blog.

Does this all seem a little silly to you? It should! But there is a reason behind the silliness.

Writing well, or being creative in general, is about balancing moments of openness & spontaneity (ie inner child) with periods of focus and precision (inner critic). This is echoed in the advice of everyone from famous Comedians like Jerry Seinfeld to Hollywood Director’s like Pete Docter.

My hope is to learn more about each part of the process — and find a sane way to integrate the two together (if possible).

There’s too much fighting in the world! I say it’s time for critics and children to put aside their differences and hug it out. Let’s get started!

***Rules and time limits subject to change on the neurotic whims of the creator.