It sounds horrible to say that I’m glad the final Kennedy died.

But I am.

I have nothing against Ted or his politics or his family or his accent. Well, maybe his accent. (It’s caR. With an R.)

I’m glad Ted’s gone because for 15 seconds it has given us a reprieve for the relentless onslaught of Michael Jackson-related news. More news than when he released “Thriller.” More news than when he created an army of genetically engineered “children” (still up for debate), all named Prince Michael. More news than when he replaced his original nose with the one from a Mr. Potato Head box.

I have a search saved on my computer that flashes a little light when a new story comes across the entertainment wire. The good news? If I have epilepsy, we’ll soon know.

That light flashes every 14 seconds with another Jackson-related piece. I feel like I’m staring at a video game or an MTV video or a Japanese cartoon or a movie by Michael Bay.

*** Newsflash *** THIS JUST IN *** Michael Jackson. Still dead.

The thing is, I’m not sure I know a single person who cares anymore.

Or who really cared to start with.

I’m only 27, so I really missed out on the era when Jackson was a visionary. I only caught the Wacko Jacko Years — Jackson as an emaciated skeletal figure with a plastic face and peculiar voice. Much like Joan Rivers.

But I can’t imagine anyone, fan or not, who is tuning to CNN’s daily Michael Watch. Every hour, it’s 12 minutes of where will he be buried? When will he be buried? (Pretty sure that one doesn’t matter as the amount of preservatives already in his system give him a longer shelf life than a Twinkie.) When will the Jacksons’ reality show start?

All of Jackson mania has made me start thinking about an over-under on when it will all just end. I’m guessing two months from now.

I’m sure there will be a news story and flashing updates to tell me when the hoopla is all finished.



— Erin Shultz

[friday] editor / not such a smooth criminal