I just need to get my frustration about this out at this point I think, so please humor me whilst I vent a spell. You see, the entire frame of reference and basic thinking behind Jessica Simpson's upcoming reality show on beauty and body image REALLY rubs me the wrong way. As in, MAKES ME WANT TO GOUGE MY OWN EYEBALLS OUT WITH A SPORK. Yes, *that* kind of 'rubs me the wrong way.' Please allow me to explain (and/or rant semi-coherently) (Don't say I didn't warn ya!) (Wheee!).

Faced with the aggrandizing media spectacle that's ensued since Michael Jackson's death last week, I can't help but wonder if we aren't experiencing some kind of collective cultural amnesia. The sudden, overly reverential elevation of Jackson's body of work and life these past few days is an odd turn to say the least, and in that sense a fitting end to the highly unusual life of very peculiar -- and yes, uniquely talented -- man.

Alright, that's it. I'm actually starting to feel bad for the Gosselins. *A little*.

I'm going to start this post with the following preamble: disagreement does not have to be agitating or wholly divisive, and I hope that at the end of this we're all still friends, still speaking, and that you'll still hug me at BlogHer in a few weeks. Because I'm going to venture a guess that I'm in the minority with regard to my opinion on what David Letterman said Tuesday night, and whether or not what he said was acceptable.

Ladies, gentlemen, web citizens, it is time we discussed a matter of utmost urgency and national importance. We can wait no longer and must act now, take the symbolic bull by its horns and decisively strike while the metaphorical iron is theoretically hot to select this year's Canción Del Verano... Which I'm pretty sure roughly translates to Summer Jam (at least according to Google Translate it does).