I’m sure you’re probably really looking forward to reading more about Michael Jackson dying last week. I mean, its not like every single person on every single stupid fucking social network, cable TV news channel, blog, or street corner has been talking about it non-stop since it happened. Not to be a dick or anything, but I don’t really see what the big deal is. I mean, sure it sucks that he died right before he was about ready to redeem himself with a bunch of big arena shows or whatever, but he’s certainly not the first person to die before they did all the shit they planned on doing, and he definitely won’t be the last. Around 200,000 people die every day in this world, not to mention all the other worlds we don’t know about yet. And I’d be willing to bet that most of them probably had some shit left on their plate. So what if they didn’t make up a bunch of great songs or trademark dance moves. Maybe they did and you just never heard them. And besides, the fact that Michael Jackson was as famous as he was should make it far less tragic that he died. At least he got to do a bunch of badass stuff while he was alive, like bang all sorts of hot gash (or whatever he was into), have a pet monkey, buy the elephant man’s bones, and probably a million other things that were too cool to even talk about publicly. Where’s the tragedy in that. Most people are born into shit and die in shit, their own and other peoples. Shouldn’t we spend more time mourning them then some dude who lived life like the royalty of a bygone era, and probably died in part thanks to his gilded lifestyle? And what was it that people, other than his family and friends, really loved about Michael Jackson anyway? His music? His dancing? His larger-than-life persona? None of that went anywhere. It’s still recorded for posterity. That the source of it has died only serves to elevate to an even higher level of visibility; his death only makes his life seem all the grander. So what’s there to piss and moan about? Sure, he died. But everybody dies. You’re gonna die. Probably a lot sooner than you think. Now that’s something to get bummed out about. And ultimately, their own impending mortality is what people are really dealing with when they get all upset when Michael Jackson, or Billy Mays or anyone else mildly famous dies. After all, celebrities seem impervious to the sorts of threats that face mere mortals such as ourselves. A corollary to the American Dream is the idea that if you can just get rich enough, or powerful enough, you can transcend death. But even Walt Disney’s cryogenically frozen head is as dead as any mouldering skull in the Chico Cemetery or dead squirrel in the middle of the road. Rich and poor, famous and anonymous all die the same death. No matter our efforts, no matter our accumulated wealth or accolades, no matter how many Platinum Records hang on our wall, we all end up dust. There’s no escape, even for Michael Jackson. Or for you. Or for me.

As far as pissed of comments and hate mail and all that, go ahead and do it. Any time you talk about someone who just died, it’s de rigeur for at least a couple idiots to write in with some or another version of “Don’t you have respect for the dead?!” And the short answer is no. Because they’re fucking dead. Unlike most people, I try to worry more about respecting people who are still living. Likewise, when I die I hope they throw me out of the back of a truck somewhere up in the hills and let the turkey vultures and skunks and badgers eat my guts and eyeballs out. I hope someone comes along and pisses on my corpse and kicks me when I’m bloated and full up with maggots and desecrates me in any sort of lurid pagan ceremony they see fit. Know why? Because I’m sure whatever happens after I die doesn’t have shit to do with what people do here, especially since probably nothing will happen at all other than I’ll be dead forever. So have at it fuckers! Do your worst! Lambaste me in print; disrespect my memory all you want. It doesn’t matter. Unless it does, which would suck. But hey, you gotta pick a side when it comes to something like this, and Pascal’s Wager notwithstanding, I choose to not give a shit.

It’s been a long time coming, but I’m glad to hear that we finally won the Iraqi war… That’s what just happened, right?

From Reuters:

Addressing military leaders in Baghdad, Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki said: “Our sovereignty has started and … we should move forward to build a modern state and enjoy security which has been achieved.”

The government has declared June 30 a national holiday, “National Sovereignty Day”.

One more time, with feeling:

Bernie Madoff Gets 150 Years; Meanwhile His Investors Get to Eat Top Ramen

While it surely makes you feel all warm and bubbly inside to know that one of the assholes who helped lead us into this economy is going to get his wrinkled ass pummeled for 150 years, it certainly doesn’t offer much to those who trusted him with their money. 13 Billion in losses (oh, and plus the $40,000 or so a year it takes to incarcerate someone, also paid by US taxpayers…)

From Bloomberg:

“I live in a tormented state,” Madoff told Chin in a five-minute speech after victims had concluded their comments. “I believe when I started this problem, this crime, it was something I’d be able to work out of.”

At the end of his statement, Madoff turned to face a courtroom audience of 250. He pivoted to the right, bowed in the direction of dozens of his victims and told them he would “live with this pain for the rest of my life.”

“I know I did a great deal of harm,” Madoff said in a gruff accent of the New York City borough of Queens, where he was raised. “Nothing I can say can correct what I’ve done.”

The courtroom erupted in applause and shouts after Chin imposed the sentence. Several victims brushed away tears, as Madoff, who wasn’t handcuffed, was let out a side door by two U.S. marshals.

textsfromlastnight.com
Website

How many times have you woken up after a night of drinking, horribly hungover and realized you should probably go through your phone to make sure you didn’t send any drunken text messages? It’s always a pain in the ass when you realize you did in fact send some regrettable texts, but hey, don’t feel bad, now there’s an entire Website dedicated to the most insane, disgusting and hilarious messages that other people have sent! One could literally spend hours both laughing and cringing after reading these priceless texts which are conveniently separated into “good night” and “bad night” sections.
Arielle Mullen  

The International
Columbia
DVD – Rated R

Despite the fact that Hollywood is obsessed (or, it could be us) with corporate conspiracy/crooked government/international spy chase/murder cover-up movies, Tom Tykwer’s The International is a pretty legit film. Clive Owen does an adequate job of carrying the movie as agent Louis Salinger—the man trying to crack a multi-nation illegal weapons ring. At his side, of course, is the lovely Eleanor Whitman, a Manhattan Assistant DA, played by Naomi Watts (wouldn’t it be great if a film actually used average looking people?). But the action is good, the acting has some integrity and Tykwer has a very sharp eye for a slick looking film. This is a perfect renter.
Dustin Bennett

If I were Michael Jackson, I would be on an island right now. Laughing, rolling in jewels and beckoning my bronzed man-boy servant to bring me another mai tai.

It just goes to show: I should have been Michael Jackson.