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As initially indifferent I felt about this, I dreamed of Michael Jackson last night.
He's no more dead than Elvis, Cobain, Tupac and Lennon. He's just become eternal.
We no longer have saints, we have mythic celebrities.
"Who will exhume Brigitte Bardot and see if her fingers bleed? Who will test the sweet smell in the tomb of Marilyn Monroe? Who will slip with James Cagney's head? Is James Dean flexible?" Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
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who am I to refuse the universe?
-Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
Last edited by cellophanedeity; 06-26-2009 at 06:08 AM..
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