But Who Will Dangle Blanket out a Window?

R.I.P.M.J. The King of Pop is dead. At last, Meat Loaf can finally ascend to his rightful throne.

The news of Michael Jackson's death yields profound results. Everywhere, children's genitals rejoice. I'm sorry: allegedly, everywhere children's genitals rejoice.

Where were you when you heard the news? I was just finishing watching A Very Brady Sequel on Comedy Central when my sibling read people's reactions from off the computer.

I had an emotional reaction, but not for Michael Jackson himself. I'm not really fan, but I do have a couple favorites: "Rock With You" and the Free Willy theme "Will You Be There?" The latter I like mostly because it's absolutely ridiculous, but as far as my strange taste goes, that's pretty much equivalent to being good.



No, my emotional reaction was mostly for a couple of friends who are huge Michael Jackson fans.

First and foremost, Ramin. Ramin is an activist in every sense, and he commits himself to causes and pursuits of social justice in ways the best of us could only wish we did. He's also the world's biggest Michael Jackson fan. As I got to know Ramin, I had trouble reconciling these two big facts as they initially seemed incongruous, but it all made sense over time. When Jackson announced his impending performances, I actually even wrote to Oprah on Ramin's behalf in the hopes of her helping him achieve his lifelong dream of seeing Jackson perform live. I assure you, I don't just go writing to Oprah willy-nilly.

Check out Ramin's dance moves - dude can moonwalk:


And he's been a ridiculous fan since he was tiny, as evidenced by this adorable home movie (Ramin is front and center, obvs):


Ramin wrote an online eulogy for Jackson tonight, which was actually quite moving as he rationalized what the man meant to him and the world. He paraphrased author/scholar Michael Eric Dyson, explaining that people fear Jackson because he couldn't be boxed into an identity and "somehow resembled all of us at the same time: male/female, black/white, young/old, innocent/shrewd, etc." It's a perspective I've never really considered before and was definitely food for thought.

Coming in a close second is Lindsay, who would scream about MJ all day long if you let her. My favorite MJ-related Lindsay incident came after she obtained this awesome MJ jacket. Good costume, Lindsay, but you're missing the black face! Just kidding, that's not appropriate, even though I came close when I attended the Snakes on a Plane Hollywood premiere.

I think it was the Y2K party when Lindsay put on the MJ jacket to show people, she discovered something in the pocket she hadn't previously noticed: a miniature replica of the same jacket that would fit on a doll. Because she was drunk and elated, Lindsay literally shrieked and laughed at the find in what is one of the most amazing candid reactions I have ever seen in my life.

And with that, though I may kid, I extend sincere condolences to my super-fan friends. You'll be missed, Michael! At least you didn't die of anal cancer. (I could probably learn to say "anal cancer" with a straight face, but where's the fun in that?) Speaking of Farrah Fawcett, who has the unfortunate distinction of having her own death coverage interrupted almost instantaneously by a bigger star, let me now share my two friends who are diehard fans of Farrah Fawcett... Just kidding, I don't know any, but like any young boy of the era, I definitely rocked the Fawcett haircut as a tyke. I will remember Fawcett forever for her "artistic" endeavor/pay-per-view special in which she stripped naked, covered herself in paint, and flung herself at a canvas. Bravo!

And people think MJ was crazy? All right, he's kinda crazy, too. Go play at that site for a career retrospective. My favorite clip is, of course, "There was doo-doo and feces thrown all over the walls." May the walls in heaven be doo-doo and feces free.