Somewhere in Hell, Colonel McCormick and H. L. Mencken are snickering through tears. The media's two-week orgy of adulation and mourning over the late Micheal Jackson has, if nothing else, removed whatever lingering doubts I had that network news, including all the news-only cable channels, was about anything but entertainment, a kind of aggressively oversized and even more vapid restatement of "Entertainment Tonight" cloaked in a thin tissue of faux-journalism.
President in Russia, looking like a deer in the headlights? Micheal Jackson is dead!
Economy auguring in? Weeping mourners add flowers to impromptu shrine for Jackson!
Congress ponders massive restructuring of your health care? Live, high-definition coverage of the Jackson memorial service!
...And on and on.
I'm still waiting to hear the announcement that the CDC is launching a crash program to cure pederasty, to be named in the late singer's honor.
W9BSP: A HAM'S HAM, A TEACHER'S TEACHER
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