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A penny for your thoughts indeed. Around here that would be a raise.

What makes a good blog? I think thematic consistency, a little exhibitionism, and honest writing. I can promise you the last one.

Most of my posts seem to be about music or politics. Some of them are funny. But all of them would love to hear a comment from you.

Oh-- and please welcome God to the APW team. We're thrilled and humbled to serve as His earthly vessel.

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Location: NYC

I was born at a relatively young age. Growing up consumed the better part of my childhood. As a young man I chased a lot of girls. But they kept getting away. Then I got older and even slower, so I got married. I've lived in New York City almost since before I moved here. I summer in Manhattan, which is like New York City, but with more humidity.

Here's me, without baby, thinking big thoughts. (Actually, what I'm thinking is, "Hey, these aren't Pringles!") I think I look better with baby.

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Stop, the Love You Save May be Your Own
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
There can be no question the the life of Michael Jackson was a sad one, that his story is one of tragedy. The general narrative is this: overbearing, abusive father drives kids, and particularly young, fragile Michael, to show business stardom. Great talent, great records, horrid home life. Awkward teen years, great solo record (Off the Wall), unbelievably greater follow-up (Thriller), capitalizes on new form of music video to become biggest star on planet, appears at height of fame on the Motown 25th anniversary special, kills there, does the moonwalk, thus convincing the world he can indeed bend physics and gravity to suit his whims. Co-writes "We Are the Word," feeds the hungry. Burns hair in Pepsi commercial... and... slowly, excruciatingly, it all goes bad from there (literally.)

Somehow he went from looking like this:

to looking like this:

He claims this was all resulting from various diseases; TV plastic surgeons have diagnosed him with dysmorphia, the syndrome that drives people to become "addicted" to plastic surgery. He also claims that his skin turned white from a rare skin disease, vitiligo; but others assume it was some sort of bleaching process. Hard to miss that the nose, the hair, the skin all ended up looking as "un-black" as possible.

Where I come out on MJ is that he is less a freak than a victim. Take a very troubled, disturbed, abused little boy, give him all the money and fame in the world, and get out of his way, and, well, watch out. He's going to live in an amusement park. he's going to buy a monkey. He's going to have a lot of sleep-over dates.

See, Michael has said numerous times that his father robbed him of his childhood. But I think he had that wrong. It looks to me like he had a 50-year childhood. What Joe robbed him of was adulthood. I believe something very bad happened to MJ in his early teen years, happened at the hand of his father, and that thing scarred him badly for life, essentially trapped him forever psychically as a 13- or 14-year-old. On some sad level, when he had boys over and they spent the night, in MJ's head it was a playdate among equals, not a man/boy thing. And definitely not a sex thing.

So I choose to remember him three ways: singing "I Want You Back" and "ABC" with his big brothers (the former may well be one of the 10 greatest recorded songs ever); spinning and gliding through the "Billy Jean" video; and moonwalking at the Motown anniversary show. The moments when the light shone through the darkness and filled us all with song. The rest is the tragedy, and I'm letting it fall away from memory.


Posted by: --josh-- @ 11:28 AM  3 comments

I Want You Back
Thursday, June 25, 2009

Posted by: --josh-- @ 9:25 PM  1 comments

So How Come...
Monday, June 01, 2009

...my kid instinctively knows to adopt a rock'n'roll sneer when posing with electric guitar?


Posted by: --josh-- @ 2:33 PM  1 comments

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