NY Mirror

But back to babies having babies, if you don't mind. Now that we've been through a whole month of TV shows in which Barbara Walters and Stone Phillips ironically tsk-tsked over Michael Jackson's surgery, let me point out some things I find disturbing about the singer. I winced when Jacko told interviewer Martin Bashir he'd throw himself off a "clift" if there were no children (the guy's smart, but sadly uneducated) and freaked when he insisted he paid off his pedophilia accuser because he didn't want "a long, drawn out thing on TV like O.J." (perhaps an ill-chosen comparison). Since that show, Michael exposed Bashir as a sleazebag—and he is—but "the artist of the millennium" certainly manipulated the experience too, implying that his love can actually cure illness (especially if the sufferer is good-looking, right? He doesn't seem to hold Band-Aid-encrusted hands with Gavin's pudgy brother).

And what's with Jacko's gay-porn director best friend? (You do the math. No, I'm kidding. I'm also friends with gay-porn directors and I'm not gay.) Much sadder is Jackson's retreat into the kinderworld, a naive act that fails to acknowledge that children can be even crueler and more judging than grown-ups, especially if they aren't feted with lavish trips and fun gifts.

Still, the superstar's stories of his own childhood are heartbreaking, and I feel for his having to endure shoddy "exposés" like that cheesily padded Dateline pile of landfill. I just hope he doesn't jump off his own cleft.

Club nouveau: bottoms up at the opening of Mission on the Bowery
photo: Cary Conover
Club nouveau: bottoms up at the opening of Mission on the Bowery


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