my opinion of MJ’s passing:
And…there was a Michael Jackson cubicle shrine at the office. For reals. I’m still kicking myself for not having a camera handy. How to describe the unsettling display of MJ t-shirt, MJ cd liners, a little bouquet of flowers, and a pencil drawing of MJ and a llama? I thought it was a prank, but as the day unfolded, I came to the realization that it wasn’t…and every time I had to get up to go to that part of the office, I was torn between running away and laughing hysterically.
And the coverage on the news? People standing around with candles, sobbing and hugging each other? Prostrate on the ground in sorrow? Seriously?
No. I am not sympathetic to the public expressions of grief from the Michael Jackson fans. It’s weird, creepy grief.
And, no. I will not be crying myself to sleep tonight. I will be sitting up in the dark with a shotgun, awaiting the appearance of zombie Michael Jackson. And I’ll be ready for him. Oh, yes. I will be ready.