Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Chef, Doktor Murray, Bubbles and the Viking rappin' offspring: it's Bhatti-time!

Boy, the Moonwalker's ghost has got some legs. The dead just won't die. A natural metamorphosis from black to white to translucent to spirit. And now a Norwegian Rapper (!?!) might be Michael's son?

'Gunnhild Jean is not my lover ...' or maybe, 'Isn't it Good? Norwegian Wood ...'

We've got his Doctor Feel Good Conrad Murray and one of Dr Murray's accusers, MJ former private Chef Douglas Jones, continuing to make 'news' while Omer Bhatti (not very Scandinavian sounding) is in the odd position of claiming that he's not Jackson's kid. Neither Hammer nor Chuck D. nor the members of 'A-Ha' were available for comment.

Who claims MJ paternity to this MC Viking then? Jackson's wacko daddy-o, Joe (played with absolute dead-on brilliance by Welcome-back-Kotter's Freddie 'Boom-Boom' Washington in the 1992 tele-bio). Joe probably wants to pawn off MJ's massive debt onto some unsuspecting 'heir'.

'Gunnhild Jean is not my lover ... Dad says I am the one .. the kid (says he) is not my son - eyoo, yoo, yoo.'

Chef Jones probably knows. According to MSNBC, the only one that truly knows is Elizabeth Taylor (Big Mama Taylormade, as she was known to the Jackson inner circle).

Boy, they're really digging into MJ's apparent drug of choice, Diprivan. Sure, he gobbled up Xanax like it was going out of style. And shot up Demerol regularly. But he needed a bit more to "mellow out". He practiced what is known in the with-it crowd as 'going on an anesthesiologist's holiday'.

Ya know, I used to think when Michael wore that surgical mask out in public that he was just being creepy. Now, though, I think he was just being 'sly'. Kind of letting other cool cats who were in the know that he was 'tuned in' (or in his lingo, 'pre-op').

It's very much a burgeoning movement, like the rise of psychedelics in mid 60s just when guys like Lennon and Dylan first latched onto to what was then an 'underground' movement and helped to spread its message worldwide: tune in, turn on and drop out. They took to wearing tinted sunglasses ('tea shades'), facial hair (which wasn't common outside of beatnik circles at that time) and wearing colorful, flowery clothes, flashing the peace sign. All this implied first weed and then acid and other hallucinogens.

Likewise, Michael's surgical mask says, 'Yeah, man - I'm on the operating table - how 'bout you?' Meaning 'I'm on a permanent anesthesiologist's holiday - are you hip? are you pre-op?' Or, bluntly, I shoot Dipravin. It's not 'tune-in, turn-on, and drop-out', it's 'pre-op, shoot up, knock out.' He was the Timothy Leary of General Anesthetics.

Of course, I could be reading too much into all this.