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Dec 2, 2003 I have a brand new show for network television. I know that they will pick this up right away, just remember where you heard it first. It's called Celebrity Fear Factor. The special twist to my show, though, is that a selected group of celebrities will be picked to live somewhere and go about their daily chores, shopping, a job, whatever, without anyone in America caring one darn bit. I was in the grocery store this evening and while waiting in line saw the magazines on the racks by the checkout counter. Have we become so insecure that we have too learn what famous person is wearing on their body or on their face? Personally my day to day tasks would not change too much if I didn't know who was dating who or what they were driving. (Although I have heard that Brad Pitt still gets daily faxes about what I had for lunch..."He ate a reuben?...Call my agent!!!") The other neat part about my television idea is that these celebrities would actually be treated the same way any of us would be if we were suspected of breaking the law. O.J. Simpson would have been locked up immediately and then would have spent the rest of his life in prison. The Ramseys? Forget it. Death row. And now we have Michael Jackson. The king of pop. The worst thing anyone has ever done to this man was to never have pulled him aside and said,"You're taking a year off. Hell, three years. I want you to live in the real world for just a little bit. See, here on planet Earth we have what we call laws. On our planet everyone is expected to live and abide by these laws. If we don't then we are punished and potentially sent away for a long time in prisons where bad people are kept." "This is a time clock. Do you know what that is? It's where most of the people on this planet start their day. It's where it is decided what you will get paid. Whta's that? Pay? Yes Michael we get paychecks. Not ones that are several million dollars every few years but several hundred dollars every few weeks. How do we live like this you ask? We budget, we save and we spend our money on what matters most in our lives." "Hey, I see you crying. Don't be sad. We (well most of us) like our lives. We have homes that are perfect for our families, we come home to our wives and sons who hug us and ask us about our day. They tell us how much they love us. They show us what they did in school and bring us pictures that they drew. Yeah, yeah I know you have painting in your castle Michael, but how many of them have hearts and 'I love my daddy' underneath them? Sure, they aren't worth ten million dollars, Michael." "They're actually worth more." Michael Jackson is a farce. A cartoon. A boy who dreampt of being a King, only to wake up and find himself, a Joker. A sad thing that made his face into that of Peter Pans'. And worse yet, he has surrounded himself with those people who 'loved the emperors new clothes'. Celebrities and synchophants alike. I understand that now he is using the 'liar liar pants on fire' defense. It's not going to work. Not this time. You can cry racism, or prejudice against those at the top. You can run away to your estates but you can't ever really hide. Sometimes it takes a while for the little boy inside of us to grow up. Usually it's a pleasant thing, a revelation of sorts. Other times it's a more painful experience. So he's going to learn how painful. For the most part, I find no compassion for those that break the law. Pedophiles are the worst of the lot. But I do find some pity in Jacksons case. Irony is described as liking the car as it's running you over. It's ironic that I would find such pity for a man who supposedly has it all. ------------ About the author: Mike Russell is a Ninja/fighter pilot/ astronaut with x-ray vision who likes to make up stuff about the author when his wife isn’t looking. Email Michael F Russell: mikerussellus@yahoo.com Comment on this column in the forum. Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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