Don't Stop Till You Get Enough

I want to shed some "lyte" on satiety today.  If you don't recognize the word, satiety means the sensation of being overly full, of having too much.  And I am truly feeling full of Michael Jackson.

I give!  Enough!  I don't care what his will says, or what drugs he was on.  Or that he had a lesion removed from his nose days before his death.  I am not interested in tours of the sad, empty Neverland ranch.  Though I totally understand why it is still on the market, it is one ugly house.

I have heard enough tributes and memories.  I have witnessed plenty of photo montages and video recaps.  The guy was an entertainer, who at one time was innovative and then he morphed into an example of an Extreme Makeover gone very, very wrong.

I figured that there would be a media feeding frenzy over his death.  I never anticipated this much surface depth coverage.  When Anderson Cooper interviewed Bubbles the Chimp, the whole Michael Jackson memorializing officially jumped the shark.

The Associated Press even took President Obama to task for not being sufficiently sad over Michael's death.  They actually said that "people were upset over the President's lack of response."  Jesus wept, unemployment is at 9.5%, and people are worried that our President is not sitting shiva over the King of Pop?  

There is going to be a memorial on Tuesday for Michael at the Staples Center in LA.  In case you haven't noticed, California is broke.  The state paid its bills with IOUs this week.  LA is no different and it struggling to figure out how to cover the costs of security for the event.  How about we all send a dollar to LA with the caveat that after Tuesday, Michael is dead and stays that way.  No more tributes, no more speculation, no more sensation.  Priceless.