Following the unexpected death of pop idol Michael Jackson, everyone is so concerned about his kids, his estate, and his family. But I’d suggest there’s a forgotten victim of this tragedy: Weird Al Yankovich.

Much of Al’s early career was built on parodies of Jackson’s popular songs. For a time, he was known as a caricature of Jackson – that is, until Jackson became a caricature of himself. From then on, Al had to be content spoofing other artists.

Now that Michael is gone forever, has anyone thought about poor Al? Dear God, what about Al?

Anyway, here’s a couple of Al’s classic Jackson spoofs:

- Greg

It’s hard not to sound cliché when writing a post about Michael Jackson. Let’s be honest, on the freaky scale of 1 to 10, the dude was about a 14. Amid allegations of child molestation, the evolution of his bizarre appearance, and his eccentric behavior over the last 20 years, it’s almost hard to remember the “original” fresh-faced young entertainer that dominated the 80’s pop music scene. Nonetheless, his music and videos were a huge part of my childhood, and he not just influenced but defined entertainment for an entire generation.

When I first heard the news he’d passed away late Thursday (not on CNN but on Facebook, no less), I was shocked and saddened, though I still couldn’t put my finger on why exactly. After all, I didn’t know him personally, and his music hadn’t been remotely popular in more than a decade. But when a childhood idol dies, I think you lose a little bit of your past and realize that we’re all quite mortal.

Jackson’s untimely death was my generation’s Elvis moment, and like Elvis, there were 2 versions of him: the young, normal looking guy, and the thing that looked like a cross between a grey alien and Ari from Planet of the Apes.

One of the first things I did was to download Thriller again. When I was young, I loved that album with a passion. I originally had the LP when it was released in 1982; it was one of the few records in my collection that was “mine” and hadn’t been handed down to me by my older sister. I played it almost continuously, even the tracks I didn’t especially like, because to skip over a track, you had to physically move the needle. Maybe I’m looking through the prism of nostalgia, but after all this time, I’m surprised at how timeless it still seems.

I’ve previously mentioned that growing up, my family didn’t have cable TV (we lived out in the sticks), so most of my early MTV experience was gained from weekend sleepovers at my friends’ houses. And in those days, Michael Jackson’s Beat It, Billie Jean, and Say, Say, Say videos were in pretty heavy rotation. We also had a bootleg VHS tape with Making Michael Jackson’s Thriller, a behind-the-scenes tour of the epic video’s production, which I digested weekly.

On August 9, 1984, my mom took me to my first rock concert (hey, I was 10), which was the Jackson 5’s Victory tour. They played three shows at Neyland Stadium in Knoxville, and we attended the final night. I remember that I wore a knock-off version of the Beat It jacket, a Michael Jackson t-shirt, and some black nylon parachute pants. It wasn’t until several years later that I learned the unspoken rule about not wearing the band’s gear to a concert. Our seats were in the nosebleed section; in fact I had a better view of the Jacksons on the jumbo-tron screen than on the stage, but I didn’t care. Seeing Michael Jackson live in concert is a memory of my childhood I’ll always cherish.

Ginny, Logan, and I were visiting my parents this past weekend, and of course with every news channel covering Jackson’s death, our conversation naturally wandered into that territory. Lo and behold, my mom still had that old vinyl jacket, and she gave it to me to bring back home.

You know, I’m really glad we still have Jermaine Jackson just for comparison purposes. You can look at him and say, “that’s what Michael would’ve looked like without all of the plastic surgery.”

- Greg

I think the FCC needs to reprimand NBC regarding its use of the term “celebrity” in the title of its summer reality TV series, I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.

OK, that looks like Sanjaya with a Mohawk and maybe one the lesser Baldwins on the end. Does anyone know who the hell the rest of these people are? Maybe I just don’t watch enough TV, but I thought that being a “celebrity” means that you have fans and are to some extent recognizable to them. A better title might have been I’m Desperate for Money and Attention, Please Let Me Be on Your Show.

- Greg

How valuable is your online identity? It’s a question that I’ve been asking myself a lot lately. I’ve had the same email account about as long as I can remember, but over the past couple of years, I’ve begun to realize that your email address is only one small part of your “brand identity.” Oh yeah. I said it. You have a brand, just like Nike, Coca-Cola, or McDonald’s.

With the advent of Web 2.0 services like Twitter, Facebook, and Windows Live, it’s becoming just as critical to have a recognizable @username as it is to have an email address that your friends and followers can easily associate with you.

My first (personal) email address was valin@xtn.net (don’t bother trying to send anything to me there, XTN has been bought, sold, and closed since then). “Valin” was a character; a little in-reference that made sense to no one but me and a handful of friends. At the time, it was really cool to have an online persona, like I was a secret agent or something equally cloak and dagger. The Internet was such a new technology, and frankly, I wasn’t sure just how much I could trust it. Besides, it was an opportunity to create a barrier and remove myself from my online activity. As the old saying goes, “On the Internet, nobody knows you’re a dog.” Now, it just seems like 180º from what I want: a simple straightforward identity that communicates my presence to my family, friends, and fans. These days, I’d feel more than a little silly promoting myself online as Valin.

Anyone who follows me on Windows Live should know that my email address is my name, as I’m pretty wide open about it. It’s listed on my Windows Live Space, in the signature line of my email messages, and in my Windows Live Profile. I also generally throw my space’s personalized URL (my so-called vanity URL, also my name) into most blog comments and other communications I send these days. I’ve found that it’s a great way to drive traffic to my content, and it promotes an atmosphere of “trust” (and I use that term loosely) between myself and my network.

I know that I’m much more inclined to communicate with jimpatterson@hotmail.com than hackerdude@hotmail.com (both addresses pulled completely out of the ether, so follow at your own discretion). Yes, I realize that it’s just as likely that Jim isn’t really Jim at all, but my point is that I prefer communicating with someone who at least seems like a real person and not someone hiding behind the wall of an invented persona.

So, recently I’ve found myself on something of a quest to stake my claim to my brand in a variety of locales ‘round the Internet. Comcast, Yahoo, Twitter, FriendFeed, WordPress, Blogger, Flickr, Yammer, Ping.fm, just to name a few…I got ‘em all. I even got my preferred Facebook URL this past weekend. So far, the only one that has really eluded me is Gmail. Oh, I have a Gmail account, but it’s not my name, at least not in quite the format I’d like it to be. I guess I’d also like to have my dotcom, but let's face it, having your own vanity dotcom (especially for an individual) isn’t nearly as relevant as it used to be.

I started by sending a courteous email to the owner of my coveted Gmail account and was promptly informed that he’s not interested in giving it up just yet. I have no idea whether he’s just squatting on it, or whether he’s really using it a lot. For the moment, it seems I’ve been thwarted. Where do I go from here? What do you think an email address is worth? Would you be willing to pay someone to get an email address you want? What would it take for you to sell your address, a piece of your brand, to someone else?

- Greg

Boy, those Redbox kiosks are everywhere these days. If you’ve never seen one, it’s essentially an automated vending machine that rents new-release DVDs for $1 per night. You commonly find them in front of Wal-mart stores, pharmacies, and fast food joints.

I saw this on the way to work this morning:

Things aren’t looking so good for ol’ Blockbuster Video.

- Greg