So, unless you've been living under a rock, you know that Michael Jackson died.

Kind of a bummer, I really enjoyed some of his music.

That being said, Farrah Fawcett died yesterday too, and if I were her, I'd be right pissed that the King Of Pop took some of my "Died before my time" thunder away.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that either should be ignored. They were both icons.

But I made the mistake of watching the news and had to suffer through fifteen minutes of Michael Jackson's death. Look, it's his place in Gary, Indiana. Look, it's a bunch of people who don't have all their teeth standing outside of his place in Gary, Indiana. Look, it's someone no one has ever heard of talking about how much he liked Michael Jackson. Look, it's some drunk white guy stepping between the reporter and the camera in Gary, Indiana.

Farrah Fawcett was mentioned as almost an after thought, and on one network not at all. Well played, guys.

I dunno, the media circus surrounding celebrity deaths has always kind of bothered me. It's impossible to grieve for your loved one with a camera in your face. Standing a reporter outside a place where a famous person lived when they were seven isn't news. It's obnoxious.

Can we get back to real news, like President Obama killing a fly in a fit of murderous rage, already?