Michael Jackson jokes

I'm not sure I'm convinced of that.

Could that be because it's not, in fact, constant?

if not ambiguous, at the very least, its practical application has to be situational (in my opinion)

another statement of which I'm not certain I'm convinced- life experience has taught me that logic is very often sorely lacking in existence as I see or know it.
*not in my existence though - as far as logical people go - I'm fairly logical- certainly logical enough to know that it's a matter of personal preference what someone chooses to name their child- and therefore none of my business.


No, I knew that I'd be lambasted for that- but what is 'reason' other than that which seems rational'?


How can that be constant?

That 's like saying that TODAY 4 x 5 = 20,
but tomorrow we expect 4 x 5 = 23.
I have my doubts.





David

As I've said before - and on this very thread in fact - I hold mathematical logic and reasoning separate from individual subjective 'reason' which is and can only be applied based on perceptual input - which in fact DOES vary from person to person from moment to moment.

Even the ability to reason within the same person is not constant.

Reason does not change;
the logic of relationships among the facts remains constant
so long as those fact do. The quality of human analyses is variable & unpredictable.

and when the facts change? Carry that thought out to it's logical conclusion.

Is there a standard equation for how to arrive at what constitutes logic or reason (outside of mathematics)?
Is there a standard deviation to determine if/or and to what extent logic has been employed in arriving at an acceptable version of 'reason'?

In my mind, even the original signature: 'One cannot argue with someone whose original beliefs are not arrived at through reason' (I'm paraphrasing) is the antithesis of reason by your definition- those are the only things you CAN argue - if reason is indeed constant.

that sounds like the mathematical definition of proportion to me.
(interesting...I've never thought of it that way)

You don't understand and obviously don't want to. Don't expect me to teach you. Dave is right, I suggest you listen to him.

A paedophile who totally got away with it thanks to the American legal system deserves at least a couple of poor taste jokes after his death. At least...

here are mine!

1. Why was MJ like a shopping bag?
He was white, plastic and dangerous for children to play with.

2. What really caused MJ's death?
He choked on 12 year old nuts.

3. What's white, sticky and slides down the playground fence?
Michael Jackson's latest release.

Well do u know the difference between Michael Jackson and Santa Clause???
Santa knows to stop at three Ho's...

In defense of historical accuracy:
during trial, his accusers were discredited in their testimony,
in front of the jury, which absolved him of all accusations.
Of the numerous charges of which he was indicted, he was acquitted of everything.



According to Sam82, there is something rong with the American legal system
if a jury is able to find a defendant not guilty.

The first boy who accused him of molestation
and who was paid millions of dollars in settlement
of civil litigation in the early 1990s, now as a full adult,
has taken the initiative to admit that he was coerced
into saying those things by his father,
who desired some extra millions of dollars, which he received,
so that the alleged victim confessed that MJ was completely innocent
of his allegations, all of which were lies and venal fraud.

Then there was Macaulay Culkin, who MJ was also accused
of molesting, and who testified that it was a lie and declared
that there had never been any sexual relationship between them.

There was a lot of money to be made by hurling those accusations.

No defect in "the American legal system" has been shown.

Before the birth of MJ, we had the concept of a "smear"
whose allegations never come off the smear victim,
if thay were galling enuf and sufficiently invideous.


" . . . All this was inspired by the principle--which is quite true
in itself--that in the big lie there is always a certain force of credibility;
because the broad masses of a nation are always more easily corrupted
in the deeper strata of their emotional nature than consciously
or voluntarily; and thus in the primitive simplicity of their minds
they more readily fall victims to the big lie than the small lie,
since they themselves often tell small lies in little matters but
would be ashamed to resort to large-scale falsehoods.

It would never come into their heads to fabricate colossal untruths,
and they would not believe that others could have the impudence
to distort the truth so infamously. Even though the facts
which prove this to be so may be brought clearly to their minds,
they will still doubt and waver and will continue to think that
there may be some other explanation. For the grossly impudent
lie always leaves traces behind it, even after it has been nailed
down, a fact which is known to all expert liars in this world and
to all who conspire together in the art of lying."

"Adolf Hitler , Mein Kampf, vol. I, ch. X
[emphasis added by David, for purposes of elucidation]

Note that I have no idea what MJ found erotic;
it might well have been children after all, but that was not proven.
I believe that he was mentally ill, but I cannot diagnose
specifically how. In addition to being crazy, MJ was a target because he was a billionaire.



David

Do u claim, regardless of attempts at humor,
that the children with whom MJ allegedly had sexual relations where whores?

Is that the reasoning of your joke ?

I think he meant to type "Tiger Woods".

I really get myself at sea.

A young black boy walks into an agent's casting room with his brothers. The agent sees from his confident swagger that he's the leader of this group and asks him what exactly the act is.
"Well," says the young go getter, "I have the most incredible act you've ever seen - you've seriously never seen anything like this. It's pretty long but it won't easily be forgotten."
"OK," says the agent, chugging thoughtfully on his cigar, "Show me what you got," he says, leaning back in his comfy leather chair to watch.

The young kid proceeds to sing in an awesome, soully kind of motown voice, albeit high-pitched. The agent is suitably impressed but makes it clear that there are a dozen acts like this.

"Oh but this is just the start," chirps the kid.

He then proceeds to dance amzingly, all toes and thrusts. The agent nods. Then the kid takes the bass out of one of his brother's hands and begins to beat him about the head with it. As the blood sprays all over his face he grins and goes, "Eee-hee." The brother's caved in face makes a gurgling sound, a sound which only increases when the kid gets his todger out and starts ******* his dead brother's skull. Once he's sprayed ejaculate all over the bassist's mangled brains he turns on the other brothers, forcing them out of the band by shitting into his own hands and running at them with it. They've seen enough and flee out of the room. "Chaaamon," says the kid as he gulps down his own faeces, gurgles on them and then pukes them into a bag of industrial strength bleach. He then proceeds to disrobe and get into the bag of **** and bleach.

The agent is so transfixed that he doesn't notice about 20 years pass.

Suddenly, the bag burst open, flicking **** and bleach and dark fatty bits of decomposing skin all round the room and onto the agent's lap. Too involved to be disgusted, he stares on as the kid emerges like a shitty butterfly from his cocoon as what can only loosely be termed a man. After twenty years in **** and bleach, his nose has fallen off and he's an eerie white colour.

His voice is now lower as he sings. The agent watches as the man sits down, unzips his flies and proceeds to try to suk his own dick. He's really chowing down on it. "Ma-chukchabeat-owwww," he gurgles as he rams his own member down his own throat with horrific force. It appears lodged for a moment. The agent gazes on, utterly absorbed by the sight of this man, his face buried in his own lap, with his cock clearly stuck on something down his throat.

With all his might, the white guy pulls his jonson free of his throat, ripping out some of his larynx as he does so. The man now has the voice of a child again.

The agent begins to applaud. "Don't clap. That's just ignorant. I'm not done," says the guy.

He takes the agent downstairs to the street where a multicoloured train is parked. He tells hime to come aboard, ee-hee.

They drive through the streets. The agent is amazed that the guy can piss into his own mouth while driving. Eventually they stop outside a primary school. The guy moonwalks through the gate, grabs a chubby young blonde kid eating chocolate. He drags him by his hair to a steaming turd his pet chimp has just laid on the sidewalk. He scoops up the turd with his free hand and smears it over his veiny white jonson. Putting one hand on the kid's upper jaw and one on the lower, he forces his young mouth open and thrusts his chimp-**** encrusted member into the startled kid's face. As tears stream down the boy's cheeks, he thrusts wildly into his mouth, skull ******* him and screeching, "I'm Peter Pan. I'm ******* Peter Pan. Owwww!"

Eventually the kid loses consciousness and collapses. So he man grabs anothe terrified child cowering in the bushes and says, "I'm Peter Pan and my dad never loved me. I'd never hurt a child, that's ignorant. They're my friends." As he finishes this sentence he grabs the new boy's belt with his teeth and rips down his trousers. He then chews the child's knob off. With veins all over his chin he gobbles down the knob. He swallows it noisily and then tells the kid to bend over. He sticks his fingers down his throat and pukes the half digested knob into its young owners upturned ass. Then he sodomizes the minor saying, "I'm Peter Pan. Let's play." He turns to his pet chimp and with a mere nod of the head, the well-trained animal begins to **** the unconscious body of the chubby kid that the man had choked out earlier.

It's all finally over. Sirens start to wail in the distance as the man and chimp finish up. As the police draw up, the gobsmacked agent begins to slowly applaud, open mouthed, the cigar falling to the floor.

"That was incredible," he stammers, "What an act! What on earth is your name?"

The man smiles and says, "Michael Jackson. Eee-hee."