death does wonders for the goodness of one's life story, if only momentarily.
and i suppose why not, after all, the well intentioned ruse is only momentary.
yesterday's public funeral for michael jackson was such a fond farewell by celebrities celebrating celebrity as only celebrities can do.
and the mourning masses were appeased.
but now what?
the toxicology report.
the ugly family feuds over everything michael.
the untold tell-all stories surely to fill the barnes and noble holiday budget table by christmas time.
the human branding business underbelly rearing it's slop and demanding its ounce of michael's flesh.
the supermarket tabloids splashing check-out line eyes with wild images and claims of michael sightings in istanbul, now named michele, dressed in a mysterious burka, clutching her half-human/half-wildebeest offspring.
most likely and most sadly, the fragile lives of the kids, snatched away much like their father's.