Today's guest editorial is contributed by Dr. Perry Cox.
As a solo artist Mike Jackson (he was 50 years old people, stop calling him Michael, Mikey, Mick and Jacko), really only had two albums that were even reheeheeeeemotely listenable, and the last one came out more than 25 years ago.
Aside from that, let's face it, he was only famous for being a pedophile cosmetic surgery train wreck adored by -- if anyone -- a legion of 12-year-old girls and overly effeminate medical interns.
Now I don't mean to be harsh, but I just can't shake the feeling that our country has a lot more important stuff to worry about right now. Iiiiiiin fact, why don't I just rattle off a few things that I care more about than Michael Jackson.
Lemme see, uhh... Low-carb diets. Michael Moore. The Republican National Convention. Kabbalah and all Kabbalah-related products. Hi-def TV, the Bush daughters, wireless hot spots, 'The O.C.', the U.N., recycling, getting Punk'd, Danny Gans, the Latin Grammys, the real Grammys. Jeff, that Wiggle who sleeps too darn much! The Yankees payroll, all the red states, all the blue states, every hybrid car, every talk show host! Everything on the planet, everything in the solar system, everything everything everything everything everything everything - eve - everything that exists - past, present and future, in all discovered and undiscovered dimensions... Oh! And Hugh Jackman.
tagged: Michael Jackson, Scrubs, Perry Cox, Grammys, pop culture