Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Eight Dead Pop Stars.
So Jacko is dead. I've done a few Michael Jackson cartoons and posts over the years and I was no kinder to him than any other humorist. I've always felt sorry for him, though, he was obviously a supremely talented kid driven mad by a strange life and family.
Preliminary rumblings are that his death was a result of prescription drug abuse. That stuff will wear on your body and a heart attack is a classic result. As Keith Richards well knows, home-grown drugs are a lot safer than some of the poisons that Big Pharm puts out. (Although there are unsubstantiated reports that Keith Richards has been dead for years and that the copious amounts of drugs in him are only creating the appearance of life.)
More surprising than his death was how much of the news cycle this story has and still is devouring. I personally think that few people short of a figure of national political importance deserves so many hours of non-stop reporting. There was nothing to report in the end, other than that he was famous, he was relatively young, he died. I sympathize with the news anchors who had to stay on the air hour after hour and think of things to say. It must have been excruciating and exhausting.
One person who is undoubtedly happy about this news is Governor Mark Sanford, who's own public insanity has been bumped from the headlines for now.
I was born seven weeks after Michael Jackson in 1958, I can't help but wonder if I'll be dead of a heart attack seven weeks from now. The fact that I have not abused my body for most of my adult life with eating disorders, elective surgery, prescription drugs, and god-knows-what-else will likely work in my favor in this regard. I hope so, anyway.
NOTE: I'm off for a few days to a family reunion and wedding and won't be posting until Tuesday of next week. Have a great weekend, mi amigos.