MJ versus Jesus?

Don't intend to create controversy, but I had to share something...

I was listening to Charlemagne this morning (formerly of Wendy Williams' radio show in NYC, now the host of the morning show on 100.3 The Beat here in Philly) and he brought up an interesting conversation he'd had last night on Twitter with some guy who made a VERY bold statement:

MJ is more popular than Jesus.

Now, that may initially sound blasphemous to any religious folks reading this; however, he immediately proceeded to put his comment into its proper context. What he meant was that in today's society, MJ was relevant to more people than Jesus is. He pointed to a recent study that was done with high school freshmen, in which they were shown pictures of MJ and Jesus. Practically every one of them said that they recognized MJ. Jesus? Didn't fare quite as well.

I will readily admit that there are some flaws with the study (e.g., is there such a thing as a true "picture" of Jesus? As far as I can tell, there are only artistic representations of him -- so who knows how those kids "saw" Jesus in their heads?) Nevertheless, I found it all quite interesting... so when he asked for listeners' opinions, I was the first one to call and speak to him on air.

The whole thing coincidentally reminded me of a convo that I'd had on Friday with a co-worker, the gist of which I recanted to him. She was upset that more people seemed to be mourning and/or reporting on MJ's death than Pope John Paul II. I remarked first that the Pope was VERY old and sickly for quite some time -- so people "saw" it coming; meanwhile, MJ just dropped dead at 50. Additionally, not everybody is a Christian/Catholic/etc. that views the Pope as an important figure in the same regard as those of that religious orientation.

There are plenty of Muslims, Jews, atheists, agnostics, etc. to whom the Pope was no more than a little guy with a BIG hat; meanwhile, MJ's music touched people in all countries, of all colors, creeds, sizes, shapes, origins, etc. MJ had today's thugs in red jackets and white socks not so long ago. From bums to billionaires, MJ has reached more kinds of people than any of us could ever dare count in our lifetime -- and will more than likely continue to do so for some years to come. As for the Pope? Honestly, I don't even know the current one's name. As the young kids say, that's "real talk."

Now, don't even get me started on the commercial nature of the J-man's b-day. Most kids don't (and may never) know what Christmas is supposed to observe. They think it's about snow, trees, dinner and presents -- and probably think the pope is what their grandfathers puff on every night in the family room. While I admit that I observe it as a day for family & friends to spend precious time together, I would argue that Christmas is just as commercial a holiday as Valentine's Day.

For those that believe in him, Jesus is most certainly as important as anyone or anything comes -- but MJ is probably more widely known and/or recognizable. Mind you, there is a big difference in connotation, relative to popularity... I mean, people don't pray to MJ -- although I guess it could be argued that some worshipped him, what with all the fainting & such. I'd be willing to bet that someone in Sri Lanka is doing the "Thriller" dance in the living room as we speak... and that nobody is practicing their Pope Wave™.

At the end of the day, I think that I agree with the guy: I think that MJ is more popular/recognizable (just look at the posts he's inspired me to create) than Jesus -- but that is not to be confused with "important", "enduring" or anything like it. I acknowledge that organized religion is a powerful force in society and will not go away any time soon, considering that it has survived 2 millenia (ed. note: why does everyone call Buddhism a religion? It's more accurately described as a "way of life" than anything). I respect the religious convictions of others and would never say intentionally disrespect things; nevertheless, I feel like MJ's reach extended beyond religious & cultural boundaries -- and that's what made him more recognizable.

For now, anyway...

Your thoughts?

The Death of a Legend

Disclaimer: This blog is solely my opinion/sentiment. If you have a problem with it, then click the back arrow at the top of your browser.


It has taken me 24 hours to be able to form a coherent thought. I still don't want to believe the news, although it is splattered all over the TV and internet. Although we know that everyone is mortal, nothing can prepare you for premature departure. As sad as I was to learn that Farrah Fawcett had succombed to her years-long battle with cancer, it paled in comparison to the feeling that I would soon have in the pit of my stomach mere hours later.

One of the absolute greatest musicians of all time passed away on June 25, 2009 at 2:26pm PST. Michael Joseph Jackson. MJ. The King of Pop. He was only 50 years old.

Despite only living to the age of 50, MJ was able to give us 45 years of entertainment. He was robbed of the typical American childhood so that he might be able to provide us with some of the most breathtaking, spectacular music & dancing that many of us had ever heard or seen. My first musical memories involve the best-selling album of all time, "Thriller." There was little that this man could do musically that did not inspire me. I challenge you to search the internet for his lyrics and really take a good look. You will find much inspiration and creativity -- something that is sorely lacking in today's music scene. Whenever I was asked the once ultimate question (MJ or Prince?), I always had the same answer... MJ all day.

Some people out there are actually pleased or indifferent to the fact that he has passed away. I can understand if you felt no connection to the man, but to cheer his death? That is one of the sickest things imaginable. That was someone's father, brother, cousin, son, nephew and hero. There is no reason to spread such vile, negative, virulent filth on such a somber occasion. As the old saying goes, "if you don't have anything good to say, then don't say anything at all." So many are trying to chastise those of us who mourn. Your beliefs are exactly that -- yours. Do not tell me who to mourn or how. I lament the loss of the biggest musician of my lifetime and make no apologies for it. If your family member were to pass and the public had a similar reaction, you'd be sickened to your very core.

Michael was obviously what I like to call "psychologically underdeveloped" for a man of his age. He spent his childhood staring at other kids through the window instead of playing like a normal 5 year-old. He never got to go to school with "normal" kids and experience "normal" life. He seemed to overcompensate for this later in life, as evidenced by his "Peter Pan" mentality. He was a caring, thoughtful person who generated millions upon millions of dollars for charitable causes. He wanted to give kids the love & support that he never received as a child. Although I acknowledge that he went too far by allowing them to sleep in his bed, I truly believe that his intentions were not what the media would have us believe, and that the stress & shock of a world turning against him truly hurt him. He never seemed to recover fully from the initial backlash.

As a somewhat rational person, I can certainly admit that he continued to make mistakes later (dangling baby, future molestation accusations, etc) -- but I still do not believe that the man had a malicious bone in his body. I think that Michael truly cared for this world and wanted nothing more than to heal it...

So Michael, I say this to you: like millions of people before me (and hopefully after), I love you. I love your music, message, humility and creativity. I can only hope that in death, you are given the respect & love that you so lacked & desired in life. My only regret is that I was never able to see you live. I just knew the folks in England were in for a real treat next month.

R.I.P., Michael.

You will forever be missed -- but your music will never be forgotten.

So Tired

I know, I know -- where the hell have I been? I can't tell you how many times I've actually had some semblance of something to say, but just didn't have the energy or desire to sit in front of my PC long enough to express them to you. You see, here's the problem: I have 2 jobs now and I barely have enough time to call my own mama.

My main job is that of an underwriter. Essentially, I spend the entire day analyzing claims, monitoring trends, evaluating risk, running data through formulas and generally being bored to death. It's not the sexiest job in the world, but it certainly pays the bills -- I mean, I've never loved OT so much as I do right now -- and it's a pretty stable gig. The two promotions that I've received in the last 8 months have certainly been a huge morale boost. I got tired of selling insurance, so working this industry in a different capacity has been a fantastic change of pace. Unfortunately, I do not see a great deal of room to grow beyond my current position and will have to re-evaluate my career path if I choose to remain with my current employer. I've always had an EXTREME love affair with linguistics, and that's something that I'd like to revisit in the near future.

My part-time gig finds me at one of those big home improvement places, in the simplest of roles -- as a cashier. I don't have to sell a damn thing, I just have to know how to ring the shit up... and considering I spend the entire day using actuarially-driven factors and formulas to predict risk & estimate future medical and dental insurance costs -- well, ringing up wood & bricks just doesn't feel so hard. Now, I know what you're probably thinking: "Man, that shit is awesome! You probably get a sick discount for all your household needs!" Well to you, I quote the great Charlie Murphy by saying this: "WRONG! WRONG!!"

I get no discount of any sort. While I was initially pissed, I realized that this is a good thing because I will not blow my extra paycheck on storm doors and bathtubs. Instead, I will pay extra on my bills and put extra in my savings account -- which was the reason I got the job in the first place. The only drawback is that I don't know how much longer my mind & body can sustain the 65-hr work weeks. This shit was cool 5 years ago, but now I'm about ready to pull out my own spleen and feed it to myself. Continuing the promotion trend, they seem to want to promote me to head cashier after only 3+ months. We'll see how it goes...

All in all, I'm doing just fine. My bank account is no longer bulimic and I've been able to perform a few home improvement projects on my own (man, I wish you could experience the greatness that is my new shower head). Can't really complain about a little forward progress, now can I?

Now if the Phillies would just hurry up and win this damn championship, everything would just be peachy.

Road Rage

Note: This rant will veer into the Rated-R realm at times in order to preserve realism (i.e., my mouth and brain often cease communication when I'm behind the wheel, often ensuring overly hilarious monologue -- and I didn't want to completely deprive you of that sweet experience).

Just in case you've never had the pleasure of riding in any motor vehicle of which I was the conductor, allow me to inform you that I have road rage... in fact, it may be one of the single largest heretofore undocumented cases of roadrageism known to mankind.

As a youth, I developed the horrible practice of internalizing all of my frustration and anguish -- which has led to many a vicious outburst in my adult life. This can be no more evident if you've seen/heard me drive through traffic. I have no sympathy for the old man in front of my with the PD tags -- I'm just looking for an extra lane via which I can circumnavigate that slow-ass sumamabitch. I don't care about that couple from Wyoming that is lost and is simply looking for a space to pull over. I wish that flock of geese would test me. Ludacris' "Move Bitch" was music to my ears when first released. Simply put: I turn into a Roadrageasaurus Rex when I'm behind the wheel and have negligible patience levels for bad driving. I'm not overly-aggressive, but it doesn't take much to piss me off.

Recently, I almost killed me a couple of white boys on the Roosevelt Boulevard in Philadelphia (Editor's note: I'm in no way a racist. I love everybody. Seriously. It was just funnier if I tossed that descriptor in there). Roosevelt Blvd may be one of the most treacherous roadways in America. I'm sure somebody has written a vicious smear campaign against this 12-lane behemoth NON-HIGHWAY that runs clear across the northern part of Philadelphia and into the next county. If you could pick a street never to traverse by foot, this would have to go at the top of your list.

So anyway, these two douchebags pull off into the right-most lane. I proceed to make the same move behind them, as I needed to turn right off of this asphalt mastodon; apparently by doing so, I raised the ire of the 2 fine aforementioned gentlemen (Editor's note: To this day, I still don't know how and/or why). They proceed to honk their horns and still their middle fingers out of every orifice of that 2-door shitmobile of theirs. Initially, I passed it off as 2 drunkards going wild after midnight... however, after sitting at a green light for 2-3 minutes as they continued with their aviary gestures -- only to further be fueled by the considerate dose of honk that I began to provide. Suffice it to say that a healthy shouting match ensued. A short chase and near introduction to my steering wheel lock later, I had raised my blood pressure about 7,000 points and later had to ask myself -- why?

I know I have a problem and I need to talk to somebody about it. As a youth, I tried yoga for awhile (to positive results)... but it's obvious that follow-up is very much needed here in my adulthood. I guess I've made the first step already: I'm admitting that I have a problem. Now it's time to attempt positive change. The last thing I'd need is for my life to be taken from me in a flash of anger... or worse yet, to perpetuate the madness by infecting my future progeny with the same affliction. Just like physical abuse, I want to be proactive and end this vicious cycle before it's too late.

In the meantime... GET OUT THE WAY, BITCH -- GET OUT THE WAY!