I wrote this as a little response to an article made by blogger Debbie Sclussel. Take it with a grain of salt - but I stand by it.
DISCLOSURE: I was born around the time the Beatles broke.
I took their music for granted because it was there.
I never thought they were ever great because of their talent - only George Harrison (bless his soul) appeared to me the most professional of the lot - but because of the marketing savvy of Brian Epstein.
(BTW - He was to Lennon what Mr. Herbert was to Chris Griffin in the "Family Guy". Think about it, eh?)
All of Lennon's songs in his solo carreer sucked except for "Whatever Gets You Through The Night" (muchas gracias, Elton).
I (figuratively) shed more tears for George Harrison, the 9-11 victims, my ex's mom and my father (Of Blessed Memory. Amen) than I did for Lennon (to whom I shed a couple as a sign of respect).
Mark David Chapman now represents more of a threat to himself than to anyone with a pulse and synapses. Back then I thought he should fry - murder is murder, anyway - but then I don't care.
I wouldn't blame Lennon for destroying Western Civilization as We Know It - the post-WWII/-"Cold" War complacency of the constantly satiated masses took care of that - but he deserves neither beatification nor deification.
Lennon was just a man with a guitar, attitude and ideals, chained to a wife with Lady MacBeth ambitions, who managed to make a lot of money for what he did and what he became.
Nothing special. Nothing terrible. The rest of us will just keep living.
Rest In Peace, Eggman.