High On Poker

*** WARNING: NO POKER CONTENT ***

Did anyone else watch the Grammys last night? I’m not usually one to watch an awards show, but wifey Kim gets what wifey Kim wants, especially when I am playing online poker.

Near the end of the show, a much-hyped memorial song was played for Michael Jackson, who was given some honorary award post-humously.

Let me first point out that the 3-D memorial song was a terrible idea. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I didn’t expect a 3D spectacular, so I hadn’t made the trip to Target to pick up some old school red-and-blue 3D glasses.  The result? While I am sure a small fraction of the television audience got blown away by cheap 3D tricks like a mulato girl blowing dandelion seeds into their faces, the rest of us watched like outsiders left out of the 3D “excitement.” Honestly, it just gave me a headache and I spent more time wondering how everything would look in 3D and contemplating how many disappointed viewers were changing the channel that I barely registered the song.

But the real creepy moment was when those two puppet children came out to accept the award on behalf of their father. Now, I’m not against adoption. Not in the least. But those kids weren’t adopted. They were genetically engineered white children for the parenting experiment that is Michael Jackson, a black man who was systematically changing his appearance to become “white.” When two pale white kids come out to accept an award for their dead Black-but-wants-to-be-White dead dad, that’s just creepy.

But that’s just where it starts. First, it was made perfectly clear that these two Aryan children would be appearing with their “cousins.” Why were their cousins there? I propose several possibilities, only one of which is pleasant. Let’s get that one out of the way. They clearly weren’t there to perform or do anything worthwhile, since they didn’t do anything but walk out with the Aryans. But perhaps, under one scenario, the Whiteys really did need emotional support, and the cousins provided that. Perhaps. More likely though, the cousins were included to either (a) give them some more TV exposure for promotional reasons, (b) act as bodyguards to make sure that the Whitey kids stay in line [this isn’t a racist thing, but the sheer fact that whereas the Whitey kids lived in MJ’s fantasy land, the “cousins” lived with the more pathetic other Jacksons and probably are more indoctrinated in the exploitation game), or (c) to put these White children into context. It’s sorta like, Yeah, these are a couple of white kids, but see their cousins? They are black! So they are related to MJ! No. No, they are not. At least not genetically.

Now, here’s the thing. I’m cool with adoption, but until someone admits that those kids were not born of MJ’s seed and were, in fact, adopted, I don’t want to see them. They are a living farce.

But the worst part were those god damn speeches. These are children, so I don’t blame them for content, but you could see how they were both set up like puppets going through a god-awful script. Prince kept messing up his lines, but Paris was the real mess up. Boy do I feel like a jerk writing this, but didn’t her “Daddy, blah blah blah” and “Daddy, blah blah blah” just wreak of a rehash of her “Daddy was a good Daddy” gimmick at his “funeral.” It just felt so forced. Here is a tween (I think) standing up on a stage, wearing adult clothing, saying “Daddy” over and over again. But there was little emotion behind it. It just felt so forced.

Let me just say this, for the record. I don’t blame the kids. I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t hear in about 8 years that they were all held captive by or developed Stockholm Syndrome for their new, fucked-up family. I can’t imagine they have anyone looking out for them outside of the Jackson clan, and lord knows the Jackson clan has a spotty record with child rearing.

So, that’s my 2 cents. Until next time, make mine poker!