Beaten Down by All the Hype

The events of the last week have left my head spinning.  It’s almost like God has decided to cast his own version of I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here.  First you had a washed up ‘B’ movie actor in David Carradine, then you had a washed up variety show sidekick in Ed McMahon, then the washed up model/actress who had not worked in twenty years unless it was on Lifetime in Farrah Fawcett, then we had the freak show that was the washed up life of Michael Jackson (see MC Hammer), and finally we have the guy who was made famous by being in commercials, Billy Mays.  Paulie Shore had better hide.

The confusing thing in all of this for me has been the extreme revisionism that has come with all of these deaths.  Suddenly, people who were fringe at best a few months ago are being hailed for their greatness.  What’s up with that?  Can’t we appropriately honor the accomplishments of these people without all of the hyperbole?

I am always brought back to the year Princess Diana died when these things come up.  Do you remember who died the same week that Diana did?  Most people do not because the press was too caught up in the hype of Diana to properly give Mother Teresa and her lifetime of service to humanity her due.  I guess the explosion of media since then has given us the ability to overhype any number of things at the same time.

It’s the hyper-revisionism that bothers me the most.  Suddenly, Michael Jackson has been elevated to a level just below that of Martin Luther King Jr.  How did this happen?  Here we have a guy that had obvious mental and emotional issues that drove him to try to appear more, for lack of a better term, ‘white’.  He married a white woman, and I don’t ever remember him taking a strong stand on racial issues unless you count his song “Black or White.”  I seem to remember allegations of molestation, but somehow a 22 million dollar broom swept them all away (and, of course he was found ‘not guilty’).  Now, there seems to be confirmation that he was gay, and did like young men.  Has that become a popular stance in the black community?  And, all of the children of his ‘baby mammas’ have turned out not to be his.  Is this the example that so many young men are following today?

Suddenly, however, everyone is rushing to praise his greatness, not just as a singer and dancer, which he was, but all other aspects of his life, and many more that have seemed to materialize after his death.  Here’s a newsflash, you can be a great singer and a great dancer, and still be a freak in the rest of your life.  It’s OK to admit it in Jackson’s case, because it’s the truth.

Unfortunately, it looks like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are going to have to have a monkey knife fight to decide who will preside over the funeral.  The self-promotion of these two guys in this case is almost as nauseating as the self-promoting of Joe Jackson (anybody need a blue-ray?).

The truth is, Michael Jackson was a great performer in the 1980s, and sadly like many people, had a hard time dealing with his fame in the years since then.  The same group of leeches that followed him during his lifetime have turned into a flock of carrion birds whose ranks have been swelled by the likes of Jackson and Sharpton.

Sadly, the exploitation of Jackson and his children is just beginning.  They say he will not be buried at Neverland.  I’ll bet the opposite.  There is money to be made if they can put the body there, so it will probably happen.  Next, you will have the Michael Jackson memorial tour in which lots of washed up singers trying to jump-start their careers will get together and sing their versions of his songs.  And, of course the tribute anthology will be released on which every artist from Whitney Houston to Jamie Foxx will sing Michael Jackson songs.  Then, in a few years when the money has stopped rolling in, and the nostalgic fervor has worn off a little, his family will sell the movie rights to his life, and back up the Brinks truck once again.

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Another story involving privates and death: the unfortunate demise of Kung Fu

It’s a cliché.  Mothers encourage their children to make sure they have clean underwear on.  Why?  Because, you don’t want someone to see your dirty underwear if you get into an accident. 

Of course, mothers do not say this because they want to keep you from being embarrassed.  If you are in a car accident the force of which rips your pants right off of you, exposing your dirty underwear, you are probably not in a position to worry about how bright and white they are at that point.  In fact, if you see it coming, you’ll probably carpet bomb your boxers anyway.

The point is: your mom’s not worried about how this stuff will affect you, she’s worried about what other people will think about her.  But, in the end she’s right.  You should not embarrass your mother or anyone else who knows you by having the world exposed to your dirty underwear.

I guess it’s pretty obvious at this point that David Carradine’s mother never had this conversation with him.

Yesterday, it was reported that Carradine was found hanged in a hotel room in Bangkok.   This in itself immediately throws up a red flag.  At one point, it was reported that it was a homicide.  Then, later it was reported as a suicide.  At the end of the day, I saw a report that he was also found nude.  Nude…, hanging…, Thailand….  You knew at that point it was going to be sordid.

So, today we awoke with a start to find out that he was found nude in a closet with shoelaces tied around the closet rod, his neck, and his penis…alone.  [shudder]  This is never good.

The world will never be able to hear the phrase, “Snatch the pebble from my hand” without giggling again.

The Foxnews story doesn’t get any better.  Several things in it caught me as interesting.  First, the name of police spokesman who commented on the case was Lt. Gen. Worapong Chewprecha.  Greatest name ever.

The second odd thing was the options given as a cause of death.  “The two ropes were tied together,” he said. “It is unclear whether he committed suicide or not or he died of suffocation or heart failure due to an orgasm.”  I’ll bet Carradine’s mother would not choose the oragasm option.

I found the following quote interesting.  “All we can say is, we know David would never have committed suicide,” said Tiffany Smith, of Binder & Associates, his management company. “We’re just waiting for them to finish the investigation and find out what really happened. He really appreciated everything life has to give … and that’s not something David would ever do to himself.”  I think the obvious question at this point is; Is anyone in a position claim to know what motivated Carradine and what he was capable of ‘doing to himself’ at this point?

Finally, he was 72.  I guess if people are going to continue to prove that they are incapable of knowing when its time to leave their privates alone, we will have to legislate the point at which the privates are no longer allowed to be used for sexual functions.

In a related story, residents of Conisbrough, South Yorkshire, England in a failed attempt to balance to karmic implications of the Carradine imbroglio have changed the name of Butt Hole Road to Archers Way.