So Michael Jackson died. Call me crazy but I wish it happened 20 years ago. Maybe 15. Before he allegedly touched little boys (that’s the Church’s job!), before he plastic surgeried himself into a nightmarish china doll, before he was commonly referred to as Wacko Jacko, (The next person who calls him that in my presence gets punched in the face) while he was still known as a musical genius, worldwide superstar and the only human being ever, who’s image graced the walls of my boyhood bedroom.(Okay, maybe not so much that last one)
Above is a clip of him performing ‘Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough’ (a song that makes most music of today sound like insipid bile) and below is a clip of ‘The Jackson 5′ performing ‘I Want You Back’ (After a news reporter with a huge cigar does stand-up for a mintue)
Even though he was knee high to a grasshopper in this video it is so obvious that the kid was gonna be a star.
Farewell Michael Jackson, I even forgive you for recording‘Earth Song’
Also, totally overshadowed in typical fashion by the media frenzy about MJ was the death of Farrah Fawcett…. of ANAL Cancer! Geeeeeeez!
If I ever die of anal cancer I’ll have instructed my people to put out a press release saying I died of something a little less embarassing. (assuming that I’ll have ‘people’)
My Moon My Man, from Broken Social Scene singer Leslie Feist’s third solo album, The Reminder.
Check out the beautifully choreographed video on a moving walkway at an airport.
Leslie Feist is also apparently Canadian. One more brilliant act from this country that I have come upon in the past year. Its seems they’re doing their best to help us forget Bryan Adams.
I also got dragged, kicking, screaming and cussing to go see the new Tom Hanks starrer, ‘Angels & Demons’. After unanimously declaring that Dan Brown’s previous rag, The Da Vinci Code was the worst book I had ever read (And I’ve read some utter garbage) I swore to avoid this film like the swine flu. I succesfully dodged a gracious offer from a friend for free passes and was headed for the finish line when the mother pulled rank and said “We’re going” a couple of nights back. It gives me small consolation to know she hated it as much as I did. Serves her right for having such poor taste in films. Read more…
So, on a recce today, I hand someone my new business card and he looks at it and asks, “Ummm, what is this company you work for? Media.. BOTCH?
Not only did I have to give him a shit-eating grin and tell him he was wrong but I then had to tell the old man that the name was actually Media BITCH!
He then suppressed the ‘riiiight’ look in his eyes and gave me a polite smile and a nod.
Which brings me to something very obvious about names that is good to say out loud to oneself occasionally nonetheless:
Rule Number 1 of Names: If you have to explain them, they don’t work.
P.S. My internet connection for the next few days is limited to the 2-4 kbps my cellular phone paired to my laptop can manage. Want to hear something funny? Airtel’s GPRS service is called (in a huge bout of either optimism or irony) ‘Mobile Office’. Riiiiight!
I miss broadband. Also, while we are on the topic of things I miss, running water.
P.P.S. Regular programming shall resume on Tuesday.
Brit Funk/Jazz group The Brand New Heavies’ ‘97 single, Sometimes. Some people say that The Brand New Heavies remind them of R. Kelly. To those people I say what R Kelly did to that girl reminds me of YOUR MOM!
P.S. I cant be bothered to post the link to the MP3. Just fucking Google it already!
Live streaming from the greatest race track in the world. Click the image to watch. Depending on your luck you get either frantic German commentary or blaring Robbie Williams music. Enjoy!