Monday, August 31, 2009

King of (Loli) Pop

As everyone knows, the fourth Monday of every month is Willy Wonka Night in the Butcher household.  But our August ’09 screening was interrupted by a familiar sound: the chime of a Google Alert.  It was an update in the ongoing Michael Jackson story!    The news, of course, was that his death was ruled a homicide.

I walked back in to the living room to tell my two daughters about the development when I had my very own Usual Suspects moment.  Like, my coffee mug dropped in slow motion and shattered against the floor as Veruca sang about Golden Eggs and I came to the following realization:

Michael Jackson and Willy Wonka are the same person.

Sound crazy?  Read the rest of this, and then apologize for judging me.

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“BACK WHEN I WAS PICKING BEANS IN GUATEMALA, WE USED TO MAKE FRESH COFFEE.”

Comparison: The Crib

Some Might Leave a Child at Neverland, but No One Leaves Neverland a Child

What do Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory and Jacko’s Neverland Ranch have in common?  They were both mysterious worlds behind locked gates that were of little interest to adults, but every child left there with their innocence stripped from them.

Augustus Gloop got clogged in a chocolate pipe.  Corey Feldman got his chocolate pipe clogged.  I don’t think I need to get any more descriptive in my comparison.  I’m just saying, a room made of candy and a carnival in the front yard both serve the same purpose: itty-bitty-dick magnet.

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“BIG, FAT GUY.  I MEAN LKE ORCA-FAT”

"Doop-A-Dee-Do"

Comparison: Unhealthy Obsession with Little People

This one might seem like a stretch because of their intentions, but they’re not as different as you might think.

But the Kid is Not Your Son

Willy Wonka went to a foreign country, tricked the tiny orange natives into coming back with him, and then put them to work, blatantly ignoring various labor laws (many a story begin this way – Curious George had a similar premise, as did, what was that other tale… oh yeah, Slavery).

Michael Jackson went to a midget’s parent’s house, tricked them into letting him go to the Grammy’s with Michael, then made little Webster sit on his lap while blatantly ignoring Brooke Shields for the entire night.

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“KOBAYASHI”

Comparison: Attire

A purple crushed velvet tuxedo or a red crushed velvet tunic circa 1540.  What’s the difference?  Either one would make a perfectly suitable Halloween costume if you wanted to go as an Amber Alert.

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“SOME GUY IN CALIFORNIA.  HIS NAME IS REDFOOT.”

Comparison: Media Attention.

Both men lived in almost utter seclusion, and drove the media bananas when ever they resurfaced.  NASA and the Soviets sent probes to Mars, the Supreme Court ruled desegregation constitutional, China joined the UN and NASDAQ debuted, all in 1971.  But the world didn’t hear a thing about it, because Wonka stole every headline and lead story with his announcement of the Golden Ticket Giveaway.

Billy-What’s-His-Face from the commercial for that Whatchamacallit thing, he died just days after MJ.  Completely overshadowed by the three-day-old death of Jackson.

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“BACK WHEN I WAS IN THAT BARBERSHOP QUARTET IN SKOKIE, ILLINOIS”

Comparison: Propensity to Break Into Song for No Apparent Reason

So you’re like, “everybody sings out loud every now and again.”  Yeah, you might get a line or two from some Pink song stuck in your head, but these two guys belted out whole songs, present company be damned. Willy Wonka sang “Pure Imagination” while Veruca busted open a ball and ate the gooey insides (2:26).  Michael sang  – okay, that’s enough (0:36).

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The parallels are so uncanny that if the movie came out second, it would have been on Lifetime as the Unauthorized Biography of Michael Jackson.  But as it were, it’s simply the greatest example of life imitating art.

RIP Mike.

[Via http://bestworstthings.wordpress.com]

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