Give in to me Michael Jackson.

Imitation Of Life starring the great Juanita Moore. The perfect Mahalia Jackson performs All The Trouble In The World. Mike the Daddy. My my. Ah, so many complicated counterpoints...

Yes, statistically you don't know the trouble Mike has seen or even been a part of. 94% of murdered black men are murdered by other black men. Everyday in the US over 100 white women are raped or sexually assaulted by black men. In 2005 37,460 white females were raped and sexually assaulted by black men, while zero to ten black females were sexually assaulted or raped by white men. Black Men account for 19.2 percent of Pedophiles. 7 out of 10 black children have never seen their father. 55 percent of US prison inmates are black. Blacks are only 13% of the population but account for over 50% of all violent crime.

Give In To Me Michael Jackson.



Imitation Of Life original trailer.




Colonel Neville: Now here's the thang. Being a hip inner-city conservative libertarian pop fan I instinctively love and thrill to Mike's Music and his whole total stage act. Not the er, hahahaha alleged criminal pervo acts with young boys of course. So what I mean is, I don't agree with the sometimes wholesale dismissive ridicule of Mike's creative output as a mere sideline to a dreadful and prolonged joke, though it actually was a prolonged joke. And he was funny and not just funny peculiar.

Curiously among celebrity, Mike was always so polite, generous and correct with fans, media and hell, everybody. Mike seemed that he would be one of the few famous people that would be easy, fun and worthwhile to be around and that you could even learn something from him. He was also the loneliest. All pretty right on unless you were say, a handsome twelve year-old with tender genitals whose parents needed a cool million or twenty three...But I digress.

Among his endless record breaking records is that of the most charities supported by a celebrity. My Lord. What does it all mean? Mike was if not nuts, then very seriously troubled. Many would be and far worse and far less in such circumstances. Go figure.

Jackson was the incredible triumph over and the awful fall to a tragic and beyond belief abusive childhood. I still wonder why his venal cruel bastard of a non-Father was never charged or knee capped with a baseball bat...by Mike. But then I'm surprised Michael never received the same treatment.

Whatever way ya cut it and you do, Michael Jackson really was the greatest entertainer of all time. Of course that aint really always a guarantee other things, is it?

Anyway, the virtually dignified funeral memorial was a hell of a thing. No really. And some of the scenes from hell included the hideous race baiting bigot and fraud Al Sharpton, babbling his blame-shifting logical fallacy for ca$h, publicity, power and influence as per usual.

And then they virtually all gave a standing ovation to this criminal freak. It says much that is disturbing about the darkness and profound cognitive dissonance within black culture and especially celebrity, and in fact all celebrity that there can largely be no quality control in their perceptions. I'll wager that there ain't a lot of serious book and literature consumption in Tinsel Town, hey?

From the Obamessiah, to Wright to Farrakhan to Sharpton, anyone can get up and blame whitey and the Jews though. Funny how ya never really see the same thing from say the Vietnamese.

Hey, take a very nasty look into the venal New Age control freak beliefs of Oprah.

I'm sorry for the dreadful loss, but hey, they didn't appear to do too much effective about Mike the nut brother while he was alive. When Mike was a child, his "caring" brothers would fuck endless girls in the same room. No really. "Whatever you do, don't look around!" they'd say to poor, lonely and head spinning Mike. Riight. Oh my Lord. Ugh. Ah, we all look bad eventually if trapped long enough within the media.

And man, the Jackson family were very, very talented but er, maybe not that bright, not that it's a crime. Mike was maybe the most smart and sensitive one but what do I know? Nuttin'. Though like all his brothers, he had that introverted walking on eggshells and whispering schtick going, as you would. While his non-intervening mother was weak and his father was a violent, bullying, child assaulting greedy swine. Go figure. That's showbiz.

Christina Aguilera Michael is a nasty boy.




Via Michelle Malkin the REAL AL SHARPTON:

Al Sharpton is a race hustler, a conman and a rich shitbag.

"Shame on every enabler who has aided and abetted Al Sharpton’s campaign to mainstream, enrich, and advance himself as a “civil rights leader” for decades despite his lying, poisonous, police-hating, crime-coddling, race-hustling agenda. Shame on the Democrat Party, which has embraced him and honored him with the stage at the Democrat National Convention,

1987: Sharpton spreads the incendiary Tawana Brawley hoax, insisting heatedly that a 15-year-old black girl was abducted, raped, and smeared with feces by a group of white men. He singles out Steve Pagones, a young prosecutor. Pagones is wholly innocent — the crime never occurred — but Sharpton taunts him: “If we’re lying, sue us, so we can . . . prove you did it.” Pagones does sue, and eventually wins a $345,000 verdict for defamation. To this day, Sharpton refuses to recant his unspeakable slander or to apologize for his role in the odious affair.

1991: A Hasidic Jewish driver in Brooklyn’s Crown Heights section accidentally kills Gavin Cato, a 7-year-old black child, and antisemitic riots erupt. Sharpton races to pour gasoline on the fire. At Gavin’s funeral he rails against the “diamond merchants” — code for Jews — with “the blood of innocent babies” on their hands. He mobilizes hundreds of demonstrators to march through the Jewish neighborhood, chanting, “No justice, no peace.” A rabbinical student, Yankel Rosenbaum, is surrounded by a mob shouting “Kill the Jews!” and stabbed to death.

1995: When the United House of Prayer, a large black landlord in Harlem, raises the rent on Freddy’s Fashion Mart, Freddy’s white Jewish owner is forced to raise the rent on his subtenant, a black-owned music store. A landlord-tenant dispute ensues; Sharpton uses it to incite racial hatred. “We will not stand by,” he warns malignantly, “and allow them to move this brother so that some white interloper can expand his business.” Sharpton’s National Action Network sets up picket lines; customers going into Freddy’s are spat on and cursed as “traitors” and “Uncle Toms.”

Some protesters shout, “Burn down the Jew store!” and simulate striking a match. “We’re going to see that this cracker suffers,” says Sharpton’s colleague Morris Powell. On Dec. 8, one of the protesters bursts into Freddy’s, shoots four employees point-blank, then sets the store on fire. Seven employees die in the inferno.

If Sharpton were a white skinhead, he would be a political leper, spurned everywhere but the fringe. But far from being spurned, he is shown much deference. Democrats embrace him. Politicians court him. And journalists report on his comings and goings while politely sidestepping his career as a hatemongering racial hustler.."


This scene will get ya everytime.




Mike performing live for MTV 10th anniversary.




Mike Come Together.




Mike destroys MTV's rather mediocre boundaries..




Mike Money.




Mike Tabloid Junkie. Mike neglects to mention the kiddie frolics.

“In September 1995, Michael said to J. Randy Taraborrelli: "Why not just tell people I'm an alien from Mars. Tell them I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight. They'll believe anything you say, because you're a reporter. But if I, Michael Jackson, were to say, 'I'm an alien from Mars and I eat live chickens and do a voodoo dance at midnight', people would say, 'Oh, man, that Michael Jackson is nuts. He's cracked up. You can't believe a damn word that comes out of his mouth."

Mike Smooth Criminal. Riiight.



A maudlin though effecting lyric by the talented Bel Air Communist Charlie Chaplin. Smilings great. Sadly they can still shoot you even if you grin like a Cheshire cat flying through the stratosphere on Acapulco Gold.

"Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile with your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just
Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile

If you just
Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though its breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

that's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile."

"A day without a laugh is a wasted day." Charles Chaplin.




Living with wacky old Mike the Marathon Boy. “Is it safe?” Sometimes no. Dig the hideous antique salesman of hideous antiques as he rubs his hands and squirms on the Michael Jackson non stop gravy train.




Imitation of Life 1934 Pt 1.




Ah, the righteous indignation of pure corn melodrama. If only that very beautiful woman had a nice fully licenced and loaded 45 and shot the circus geek guy in the knees, then let him crawl in the gutter like the dog he is. Not that I'd ever do that.




Ah, we all must leave eventually.