Speechless

Lady Gaga avec wings.

Lady GaGa performs “Speechless” on Ellen. She’s brilliant you know.

Yet another song that I love…

Bat For Lashes

Bat For Lashes rock a killer cover of “Use Somebody.”

You don’t need me to tell you this is awesome.

Michael Jackson

Moonwalker

This performance of Billie Jean, taped for an NBC special, was featured on a VHS about the making of the Thriller video. I can’t tell you how many times I watched it or how many hours were spent teaching myself the moonwalk, the spin, the kick, the pelvic thrusts. I would practice in my bedroom, imagining I was him, imagining that I could do what he could do.

I couldn’t of course. The whole point was that no one could. He sang and danced in ways that were foreign and exciting to me. His videos expanded my imagination and made me think of music in a whole new way. He was my first hero, my first idol. I bought black pleather pants and a glitter glove and a t-shirt that said “Beat It.” Yes, I was a bit of a nerd about it. But it was my first experience of being a fan. Of dreaming about something larger than myself and the immediate world around me. Of imagining what was out there and what I could be or become.

His decline – in popularity, in mental and physical health – did little to diminish my fascination and yes, even fondness of and for him. His obsession with surgically altering his appearance, his love/hate relationship with his incredible fame and even his eventual freakshow status – I empathized, I wished for him better handlers, better friends, a better life.

Then there were the things that were harder to reconcile – the charges of sexual abuse, the Jesus Juice, the admissions that he had slept in the same bed as the children he befriended. Though I clung, perhaps too long and with too much vigor, to the hope that these were lies created and designed to extort him of his wealth, the truth is that I don’t know if I’ll ever be certain of what the truth was. Maybe I don’t want to know.

But I didn’t know and love Michael Jackson the man. I knew and loved Michael Jackson the performer, the icon, the idea. A little boy with more talent in his soul than anyone I’ve ever met. A little boy who was beaten and abused and who nonetheless created music that was as joyous and full of hope and optimism as any I’ve ever heard. From “I Want You Back” to “Rock With You” to “P.Y.T.” to “The Way You Make Me Feel” to “Remember The Time,” MJ has provided a soulful soundtrack to my life that has influenced every idea I have about music and entertainment.

There has never been and will never be another Michael Jackson. His influence is everywhere and he did as much to create our modern pop culture as anyone else I can think of. With him dies a part of music history and a part of my own history. He was a genius and a freak, an inspiration and a broken man. The most famous person on the planet, he lived a life none of us will ever understand, know or experience and we all richer for the contributions he made to our world.

Behold the Power of The Lord

A Holy French Fry

As well all know, Jesus is all-powerful and can basically do whatever the hell he wants. This includes having his sacred image appear on everything from bagels to pancakes to the late Nell Carter’s ass. (Though that last one can’t be confirmed, I do have it on good authority such an event once delayed production on a third season episode of  “Gimme A Break.”)

Here’s a montage of news reports detailing the various times and places The Lord has popped up in America in just the past few years.

The Value of Determination

Not fun.

Two relatively unknown fighters, Toby Imada and Jorge Masvidal, squared off back in May at the Bellator Fighting Championships IV. Despite getting his face mashed into putty in the first two rounds, Imada came back in the third with an inverted triangle choke that may very well be the submission of the year. Brutal yet ingenious, it highlights something MMA has taught me again and again over the years – just because someone looks to be losing doesn’t mean they are. And the fight ain’t over until it’s over.

Or Are We Dancer…   

Unstoppable 

At the Sasquatch Music Fest one man turns an otherwise sedate crowd into a dance party. This video is making the rounds today with people declaring it a metaphor for everything from savvy marketing to the desire within all of us to spread joy. I just think it’s cute.

Ed Asner & A Talking Dog

Who hasn't wanted to do this?

 Saw “Up” on Saturday night and cannot suggest more strongly that you do the same. As brilliant, delightful and visually stunning a film as you’ll see this summer.

Won’t say a word about the plot, but the story is a delight. Quixotic, suspenseful and full of surprises, it demonstrates a mastery of the craft of storytelling – a hallmark of all great Pixar productions. Of course, proclaiming Pixar a bunch of geniuses is a bit like saying Esther Williams was pretty good in the pool or that Cassius Clay knew how to throw a punch. But the structural complexity woven through even the slightest of sight gags demonstrates the incredible amount of thought, planning and imagination that went into the creation of this wonderful piece of work.

Last week I watched Synecdoche, New York (flawed but sort of brilliant,) Hannah Takes The Stairs (also sort of brilliant and also sort of flawed) and Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (harrowing, but also brilliant and yeah, sort of flawed.) Three radical approaches to filmmaking all trumped by Ed Asner and a talking dog. Apples and oranges of course, but fashionable as it is to hate on Walt’s Evil Corporation, I can’t deny that Up was the only film of the bunch that made my heart ache. I laughed while tears rolled down my cheeks.

It may not be an “art film,” but by god is it art.