“Made by John Lennon.” “It’s impossible,” said Paul. And how could it be anything but? What are the chances that a completely randomly chosen bit of audio, played backwards, would form a coherent set of words, let alone result in the person saying their own name?*
From the song Free as a bird, which I only vaguely recall, what a great story. The part about the peacock hits hard for me as we had a similar thing with a robin after our dog died. While I was digging her grave, this robin hung out with me the whole time never farther away then a couple feet. This was quite a long time as the digging was slow due to all the tree roots. More astonishing, for the next few days anytime I was outside the house this robin (with this unatural behaviour, so I assumed the same one) would be close by.
