In Case You Care

The catalogs for the Michael Jackson estate auction have been posted on the Julien’s website. You can check them all out here.

There are 242 pages of “Amusements, Arcade Games and Disneyana.” And that’s just from two of the eight auctions! Disneyana??? I’m not sure if that’s a reference to Disney junk or the name Ashlee Simpson’s picked out for her next kid.

The auctions will be held April 22-25 in Beverly Hills.

Update: I knew some enterprising journalist would take the time out of his day to look through every single one of these items to find the most fucked up shit. That is why I didn’t do it myself. That, my friends, is the difference between bloggers and journalists: Journalists do the hard work to track down the stories, and then bloggers sit around in pajamas and make crude jokes about the stories and usually wind up making a lot more money in the process. Still wanna fill out that J-school application?

Anyway, the Huffington Post tracked down the truest gem from this auction: a poem Michael wrote himself. And he should have immediately burned it, but instead he had it engraved into a marble slab. Some choice bits of this opus:

Children of the world, we’ll do it
We’ll meet on endless shores
Making sandcastles and floating our boats
While people fight and defend their point of view
Forever putting on masks that are new
We’ll swing the tide of time and do it.

Children of the world, we’ll do it
With song and dance and innocent bliss
And the soft caress of a loving kiss
We’ll do it.

In (tangentially related) other news, the girlfriend I had dinner with tonight mentioned that Chris Brown and Rihanna probably oughtta confiscate all existing copies of “No Air” and “S.O.S” before someone realizes that the two of them have been busy foreshadowing this shit for ages.

Thanks Mark!