I was but a wee lad of 8 when the Beatles hit our shores, and I was entirely smitten.  Their music, their dress, their actions, words and manner all captivated me.  I thought they could do no wrong.  Imagine just four years later at the tender age of 12 I was accosted with this nonsense.  It was dreck then at age 12, it is dreck now at age 53.  Though I continued to like much of the Beatles music, both group and solo, this album proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that not only were the Beatles not Superman, they (or at least John) was capable of putting out embarassingly bad product.  George followed suit with Electronic Sound, but at least his embarassing moment was covered with his own bad drawings rather than his and his wife's genitals.