The Washington Post's desperation is showing. It's evident in their full-page ads, written in stunning Engrish prose, for "valuable" coin collections worth $12.50 (complete with safe!) and "miracle heaters" (complete with cabinet!) made by "Amish craftsmen." These make hilarious family read-alouds but don't do much for the dignity of the paper. But then they publish EJ Dionne every week, too.
I tried to ignore the Style section last week that carried three Jackson stories, each with a huge photo, on his dancing, his singing, and his 'fashion sense.' The Post has been so loaded with Jacksonia that it's a challenge to leave the paper folded without his image facing out.
But this article is just pitiful:
For Celebs, is Death a True 'Triple Threat'? by David Montgomery
A quick scan reveals:
- 'celebrities' die all the time, just like the little people on the obituary page
- "skeptics deny it"
- lots of people die on the 25th day of the month, so be careful
- some sorry saps actually believe this nonsense
Belief in superstition is a sign of deep stupidity and it's always depressing to come across a living example. The last time I got my hair cut one of the stylists was declaiming about a sure-fire method of predicting the sex of a baby. I can't remember what it was -- something about craving beef jerky, carrying the baby 'in the back,' or the pattern of the spatter after the ritual chicken sacrifice -- but it had nothing to do with ultrasound technology.
Anyway, enough of Jackson. A day or two after his death I took a look at the obituaries and easily found a dozen that were more worthy of our recognition than MJ. One woman in particular was someone I would have enjoyed knowing, I think. I'll try to find it and post it if I can.
*Found it. Her name was Antoinette Colijn Mayer.
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1 comments:
There is no dilemma of Billy Mays. His death was the ultimate diplay of dedication to his profession; Buy three, get one free!
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