As a rule, in all seriousness: AS A RULE I do not acknowledge celebrities, their personal lives, all the bullshit surrounding them.
I don't follow their day-to-day activities, I don't read the magazines, I don't care about their fashions, I don't follow gossip, I don't watch reality TV, and I don't give a shit.
There are people who don't deserve my time or my concentration. School shooters. Couples with too many children. Young, rich twenty-somethings who live like hobbits. In hills. God, I am hilare. Fashion gurus who try to convince us that we can only gain respect if we dress a certain way and follow certain rules (whatever, I would take a stringless $5,000 for a new wardrobe before ordering a beer, and that's business right there, but adhering to the parameters defining some shows is fucking bullshit).
As a rule: I don't care if you do.
As a rule: what you like is what you like, and who am I to keep someone from any personal joy?
I should also add that I am totally drunk right now.
My friends will attest to this. Family, coworkers. Anyone who's been reading this blog since I started it a little over a year ago can't argue with the fact that I don't talk about the fucking news or whatever pop culture bullshit is going on. I wrote about the birthdays of Kurt Vonnegut and Charles Darwin, electing Obama. That's basically it. To earn my respect, you have to leave a fucking mark. You have to be yourself: controversial, a decided individual, and your intentions, however misguided, must be good from my perspective.
In the end, whether you liked him or not, whether you believe he was innocent or guilty, whether you devoted yourself to his music or were repulsed by it...the imprint Michael Jackson left on the world is inarguable. Musically, philanthropically, medically, judicially, whateverly.
So, in no particular order, here are my top five favorite Michael Jackson/5 songs:
1. Man in the Mirror
2. Dirty Diana
3. Blame it on the Boogie
4. Rock With You
5. I Want You Back
And again, another thing I haven't done, wouldn't do, but feel compelled to ask: what are yours?