because somebody's gotta ask the tough questions

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the only interesting reaction i've heard to michael jackson's death is the first one--when a secretary burst into into the break room yesterday with the news that he'd been rushed to the hospital in terminal cardiac arrest, the co-worker i was talking to said, "gee, i hope it's not a children's hospital."

it's been downhill from there.

for the past two days, i've heard all sorts of dumbass shit on the subject, the pinnacle of which was something a radio talk show host on kfi said today--something to the effect that "he was nothing more than a rich, talented pedophile; i'd gladly give a thousand michael jacksons for every american hero who's died in iraq or afghanistan."

really, mr. talk show host? tell me, who do you think's more important in the overall scheme of things--the genius who dreamed up the great pyramid, or any one of the thousands of anonymous guys who died building it?

another way of asking the question: can we really compare queen bees to worker bees, much less hold 'em to the same standards of behavior?

from the beginning of time, we humans have made gods of our best and brightest--and then, more often than not, watched all that collective adoration transform them into monsters--monsters who require a steady diet of human sacrifices in order to supply us with a steady stream of their magic.

so, was all the sheer, gorgeous talent the world managed to wring outta michael jackson before he flamed out worth the sacrifice of tossing him a boy every once in awhile?

i dunno--you tell me.

because it's what made me laugh today

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