On most nights, I am convinced that YouTube is an elaborate university experiment to which we are all being subjected unknowingly to find the point at which we die inside after seeing racial slurs spelled with numbers too many times and "there," "their," and "they're" massacred beyond recognition. But on nights when I watch video gems from the "What in the fuck" archive like the one below, I realize that YouTube is just the goofy uncle in the Google family of products. Which is to say he is all sorts of drunk but ultimately a source of entertainment and fond memories. Behold, Michael Jackson at the 2002 MTV Video Music Awards:
Phoebe brought this video to my attention in recent months but it was only in the last week that I dug it up to behold the magic. The magic of David Blaine that is. David Blaine's magic is real and Michael believes in him, okay? What this has to do with anything related to Michael's legendary ascent to fame and the boundaries he shattered on the way is APROPOS OF NOTHING OR WHATEVER THAT TERM IS THAT MEANS IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER.
I understand thanking his management and people who informed his career like Diana Ross, Quincy Jones, and James Brown. I even kind of understand him thanking that hell goblin of a father that crushed his self-esteem when he was a child, cause its hard to quit dads. But David Blaine? David Blaine who dumped Josie Marin and Fiona Apple? David Blaine who tried to defy the power of Leonardo DiCaprio's famed "Pussy Posse" street gang of STI-spreaders? David Blaine who used to invite freshman girls from Ruben Hall to his apt to make asinine remarks about the Holocaust? Why Michael, why?
I can't even get started on how Michael mistakenly thought he was getting The Artist of the Millennium award when this was actually just a "hey, its your birthday, get on stage moment" hosted by the legandary Ms. Britney Spears. But all of this is to say, "You do you, YouTube." Cause seriously, their magic is real and I believe in them.
David Blaine, you