Michael and stuff: Along with everyone else, I was feeling bad about the death of Michael Jackson until black celebrities like P-Diddy and Jamie Foxx had to go all tribal and ruin it. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you did us a favor and loaned him to us beat-needy white folks, and we are inadequately grateful as shown by the not-perfectly-worshipful media coverage.
Folks want to get nasty, let's talk straight. Michael Jackson was a blessing in my life for one decade and a curse for three. Farrah and Michael made me remember fondly my 1970s childhood. By the time of Thriller, I was old enough to be beyond the pop stuff and he was beginning to seem creepy to me. Well, that feeling escalated until the present day. Right, Elvis was pretty pathetic at the end, but he never gave me the creeps. Everything about Jackson except his talent became repulsive. I'm sad he went prematurely, but he was too disturbed to be a hero.
I don't know why I had the thought now, but I have this foreboding that the country's future is tribalism all the way around, and the thought is depressing. Perhaps I need to prepare myself for this in steps. Since I've got a wee bit of Irish ancestry, maybe I could join the Irish American Business Fraternity and then when I was used to that, I could work on becoming a full-blown white person.