Tacky I know, but boy they're dropping like flies. We'd just gotten over the loss of Ed McMahon and David Carridine when yesterday was a twofer QCD (quality celebrity death, for the uninitiated): Farrah Fawcett and of course Michael Jackson, who will go down in history as one of the all-time greatest singer/dancers and also one of the most screwed-up humans ever to walk the earth. The poor guy never had a chance, what with being a mega-star from age 5, no education, surrounded all his life by phonies and users and way too much money... Doesn't excuse the hanky-panky with the boys, of course; at least he had to fork over a $20 million settlement after the kid made a positive ID of Jacko's thingy. No, the two things about Jackson that amaze me most are: #1 his ability to blow through more money per year than most Third World counties do in a decade, and #2 the twisted obsession with plastic surgery, apparently with the goal of becoming a 90-year-old woman toting two tons of botox in her face (and I'll even give him the benefit of the doubt on the vitiligo-causing-loss-of-skin-pigment story). His transformation over the years reminds me of nothing so much as the Spongebob Squarepants episode where Squidward becomes more and more "handsome" after getting whacked in the face. Let's compare, shall we?
Could a simple series of doorways accidents explain poor old Jacko?