Michael Jackson

I'm not gonna pretend I'm sitting here crying, it's not like when Joey Ramone or Joe Strummer died. I was never into his music when I was a kid and it was ubiquitous and he was the most famous person since Jesus - hell, I prolly like his music now more than then. Tho I vaguely recall The Gnat "poppin 'n lockin" to Billie Jean at our Fire Hall dances. But there is a sadness to it all, no? Maybe cause of the talent (both in it's rareness and it's waste by the end), maybe cause he always seemed like a frail kid, maybe cause I don't remember NOT knowing who he was. Prolly cause millions of people will always remember him as that bubbly kid smiling and singing his ass off on tv. It's a strange thing when you can ride down a street and know exactly what everybody is talking about. And I'm sad he'll always have the kiddie thing attached to his name. I never believed he actually pulled the trigger on any sex shit with those kids - the odds of parents who are willing to drop their kids off overnight with a stranger simply cause he's a pop star being the kind of people to try to cash in with some lying seems to me exponentially greater than those of him fucking around with any kid. Though yeah, the whole scene was fucking strange. A strange guy.

Of course, it's not my job to sit here and be maudlin. Like Bruce Springsteen playing the night John Lennon died, ("I've seen people digging firebreaks to save their homes, and I've seen some desperate fist fights, and God knows, I've seen hundreds of rock & roll shows, but I have never seen a human being exert himself the way Springsteen did that night in Philly.") it's my job to entertain you motherscratchers. So I will say that, like CS Lewis, Farrah Fawcett picked the exact wrong day to die.

Cliff Huxtable: "No 14 year old boy should have a $95 shirt unless he is on stage with his four brothers."