A Note about Michael Jackson
So there's of course been a lot of buzzing and boo-hooing about Michael Jackson in the last 24 hours, which of course makes perfect sense. It's certainly an unfortunate turn of events (though I daresay perhaps moreso if you happen to be Farrah Fawcett, Sky Saxon, or John Joseph Houghtaling, inventor of the Magic Fingers).

More directly on the topic of Michael Jackson though, I've gotta say that I really feel like we're not seeing the big picture here. Yes, he did amazing things with music and yes, he had a tragically fascinating life, and yes, his death is a sad thing indeed. However, anyone who takes a good long look at the life and times of Michael Jackson will quickly realize that in the truest sense of the word, Michael Jackson is not dead. His body may have ceased to "live" by all technical definitions, but at least for the immediate interim, I feel that it's painfully short-sighted to think that this is the last the earth has seen of Michael Jackson.

This is a guy who was essentially a shape-shifter. A guy who collected mummies and skeletons and was, at least I choose to believe, planning on building a gigantic robot version of himself in the Nevada desert. He was essentially my one great hope for a real-life Supervillain in our time, and I simply can't believe that a man like that didn't have some kind of backup plan crafted in the event of his death.

We may not see it within our lifetimes, but there's not a doubt in my mind that this world hasn't seen the last of Michael Jackson. If Walt Disney's head is frozen in a jar awaiting reconstitution, then I have high, high hopes for the terror that the reanimated corpse of Michael Jackson will reign down upon the planet once our science and dreams have evolved far enough down that dark technological path.

He will rise again, and he will make us pay.