There is an urgent need to upbraid some of those who are making those obese bucks out of the death of an American icon. Jackson dies and all of a sudden a rush of transfers are happening all over the place, almost as many illegal immigrants enter the territory every day. Well, maybe I am exaggerating a bit - the country is flooded with illegal immigrants.
There are just certain magazines that I urge to place on a floor, put down my pants, and take the slimiest dump into it. You know when you are about to pay your stuff at Market Basket and there are those low quality paper magazines with pictures of celebrities dying of cancer? Before the Jackson frenzy, I remember spotting a picture of a very sick and thin Patrick Swayze battling cancer. And now, Michael Jackson.
Just yesterday I found myself in depressing Wall mart, feeling satanic energy and wanting to vomit vertically upwards, when I spotted one of those magazines with the exact words under a melancholic picture of Jackson: "Pictures of his cardiac arrest! He starved himself to death! He was bald!"
I honestly would love the person who wrote this to be raped by sardines. Is there a class in college called Media Ethics? Because I don't think Business Ethics is enough.
Naturally that there are a lot of magazines and people making money out of this, but some are respectable and display literary quality in a way that seems constructive, decently marketable, and somehow written with compassion, humanity, without ever being tactless. Then, there are magazines that are complete, absolute, total and utter shit. I would say that the first example can be compared to a prostitute that approaches her client going:
"Hi, there... Nice tie... Do you have any plans for tonight? Because you look quite lonely"
Shitty magazines are not like prostitutes. They are like filthy whores that go:
"Fuck me until you get a cardiac arrest! I'm starving to death! I want to fuck your bald head!"
Spot the slight difference?
