Dear Michael Jackson, How can we help?

My instant-message conversation with an impertinent young blogger not named Scott Brown — and his inevitable mocking of his blogfather’s love for all things Thriller:

ThaBlogfatha: So I just read that Michael Jackson is working on a new album…

NotScottBrown: Ah, yes. The tragedy is now multinational. Where is he recording again?

ThaBlogfatha: He’s recording for a label owned by a Bahraini prince — presumably a label that didn’t exist before Mike said he needed some scratch to record an album.

NotScottBrown: What are you talking about? Son of King of Bahrain Records sounds like a totally legit outfit. I wonder if they offer a competitive dental plan.

ThaBlogfatha: I know, I know — despite all the weirdness, i’m still hoping there’s some miracle producer out there who can whip him into shape, get him back to his Thriller fighting weight. Am I naive to think that way?

NotScottBrown: Fighting weight? To tip the scales that much, you’d have to find parts of him that are long gone.

ThaBlogfatha: No plastic surgery jokes! We’ll be sued.

NotScottBrown: No, no, sir. I speak of the man’s soul, not his nose.

ThaBlogfatha: Well, he still has a soul…

NotScottBrown: Invincible argues otherwise.

addCredit(“Michael Jackson: Michael Adebari/LFI”)

ThaBlogfatha: I’m envisioning a moody concept album produced by, say, Brian Wilson.

NotScottBrown: Brian Wilson?! Chaperoning Michael Jackson? Who’s chaperoning Brian Wilson?

ThaBlogfatha: Brian Wilson is The Man.

NotScottBrown: Granted, Wilson staged a comeback. But he’slived a lot longer. Michael might have to go through the same thing,banish his various Dr. Landys, and break on through to the other side.Only then will we find out if any of his genius is intact.

ThaBlogfatha: And he needs to stop wearing those damn military uniforms!

NotScottBrown: Well, yes. Then there’s that.

ThaBlogfatha: Maybe Elvis Costello knows what to do — he’s made more albums in as many genres than anyone i can think of.

NotScottBrown: As long as he doesn’t reprogram Michael to yodel Costello-ishly…

ThaBlogfatha: Elvis doesn’t yodel!

NotScottBrown: Oh, what do you call that soulful yak-bleat he does?

ThaBlogfatha: Don’t mess with Elvis — “Alison” seemed very deep when i was 13

NotScottBrown: I have not a leg to stand on. When I was 13, Iwas listening to some toxic cocktail of Billy Joel and Werid AlYankovic. I have no taste.

ThaBlogfatha: Maybe Michael should stay away the touching of the sexy ladies in the music videos too — it’s just not his thing.

NotScottBrown: Well, I know malaise when I see it, and touching sexy ladies in music videos is definitely one of the symptoms.

ThaBlogfatha: Maybe he should do an album of dusty covers, like Rod Stewart!

NotScottBrown: Hmm, covers could work. The good news is this:Nothing is beneath him. He has hit rock bottom and jackhammered throughto find fresh new hells.

ThaBlogfatha: Yet somehow he still occupies the sublevel of hell just above PopWatch HQ

NotScottBrown: Is that him I hear knock-knock-knockin’ at our hatch door.

ThaBlogfatha: Ooo, what if he recorded a duet with the ghost of Mama Cass?

NotScottBrown: I don’t think he eats ham. But that’s a small obstacle.

ThaBlogfatha: Make your own kind of music, Michael! Actually, no, don’t. That’s what got us into this mess.

NotScottBrown: So, yes, let’s get him back on track, so we can get back to the important business of making TomKat puns.

ThaBlogfatha: (sigh)

[UPDATE: Je. sus. walks. after all! It seems that Kanye West may be the aforementioned miracle producer for which the blogfather prayed.]