Y'know, as much as I find the Bible and the study of the Bible fascinating in almost all its permutations, there are times – such as when I'm reading an item like this - that I wish every human being back in 3,000 B.C. through the Fourth Century C.E. had been thoroughly and irretrievably illiterate. I'm getting so sick and tired of these people who make decisions for themselves, and try to make them for others, based on one collection of ancient and, for our times, obsolete writings.

I presume that this pharmacy in Great Falls, Montana, does not even stock any oral contraceptive medications? The article doesn't quite make this clear.

In any event, there should be a federal law that requires all pharmacies to post, in a prominent place at entrances and drive-up windows, a list of all categories of medications they do not dispense. This will save many customers from wasting their time and being subjected to certain business owners' highhanded moral posturing.

The Beatles were veritable gods to us kids in the 1960s, but then so were the Monkees, and it is not often acknowledged that the Beatles did not disdain what the Monkees were about. (Mickey Dolenz and Paul McCartney even spent a fair bit of time together on one occasion.) Yet the Monkees were reviled by the critics for not playing on their records, ignoring the fact that the Beach Boys' critical-darling "Pet Sounds" album—which does earn its accolades—was virtually Beach Boys-free in terms of instrumental contributions. But then, Brian Wilson was one of the critically anointed, while Mickey Dolenz was just an actor who sang.

I know this sounds irrelevant to the "Sgt. Pepper" discussion, but the fact is that the musical and technical achievements of that record were more out of the hands of the group as a group than anything they'd done before. Lennon had pretty much abrogated leadership to McCartney by that time, Harrison barely participated outside of his one composition, and George Martin and his engineers were tasked to the utmost to deliver all those new and exciting aural techniques and effects. After "Rubber Soul" the Beatles were frankly starting to get ahead of themselves collectively, leaning more on McCartney's focus—and multi-instrumental capabilities—to keep them on track. And as the White Album would amply demonstate—and the disastrous "Get Back" project would throw into stark relief—the individual Beatles were discovering that they no longer really needed the rest of the Beatles to do the Beatles.

Listening to "Sgt. Pepper" today, I can't help but hear in that final prolonged piano chord the beginning of the descent of those gods from on high. I tend to believe the Beatles heard the same thing. They would call themselves the Beatles for a little while yet, and add richly to their legacy, but the unity that had enabled them to scale those heights in the first place was laid to rest with "A Day In the Life".

I really enjoyed reading your comments, especially as you were the same age I was when it all happened. I still think it was one of the Beatles' great unsung achievements that they reached kids our age. "Sgt. Pepper" may have been a bit over our heads, but "Hard Day's Night" couldn't have been a more perfect soundtrack to our childhoods.

Unfortunately, maternal morality trumps maternal mortality in the minds(?) of too many so-called pro-lifers, north and south of the equator. If the truth were told, these folks see women who suffer complications from a "backalley" abortion - or any abortion, for that matter - as only getting what they deserve. Self-righteousness - perhaps a greater scourge across the back of mankind than even Dickens' horrifying Ignorance and Want - creates hard hearts and closed minds every time.

Having always found the Silver Surfer a stultifying bore in the comic books, I don't have any particular enthusiasm for his cinematic debut. In fact, the only aspect of the character I find interesting is how he purportedly came to be.

The tale I've seen told is how in the "Marvel Way" of doing comic books – reduced to its most basic elements, writer does a plot-and-character outline, artist draws the pages, writer fills in the dialogue – a story of the Fantastic Four (#48, original series) was to feature a new villain, Galactus. Artist Jack Kirby, working out the visual aspects of the character, decided that a cosmos-roving planet-eater needed a herald of his coming and drew in this little guy on a vehicle that suggested a surfboard. Writer Stan Lee saw this incidental figure and, after Kirby told him the idea, ran with it. God knows why. But so was born the most overrated, pompous blowhard in comic book history.

Yep, can't wait to see him on the big screen!