In Taking The High Road I Can Still Smell The Body

I had thought it over many times and chose not to write anything on the death of Michael. I was going to be the only columnist to avoid the easy target of a dead pop icon/creepy pedophile. This position would allow me to, for once, arise above those of my critics and keep my mind free to address more pressing issues. But being that it has been two weeks and the news is still laden with his death I must offer my often odd opinion. What the hell people, if Michael was living at Neverland or traveling in Europe you wouldn't even give him a fifteen minute spot on the late night news as the fifth story. So how is it in death I have to be constantly bombarded with his image, music, and life story 24 hours a day? Why, now in death, is this man being remembered for what he did as a great performer? If he was on fire in the middle of L. A. most of you would not have spit on him. Admittedly I can not deny the man had incredible talents. His music, dance, and creative vision will never be matched by one artist. The music invoked a generation of people who listen more to the music and focused less on dancing to a count. Michael was the best in his field. But that was then and this is now. He is dead, I know big shocker to some. He will not moonwalk again and people can stop analyzing his every move. Be it on the dance floor or in life.