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I do hate to interrupt your misty-eyed memories of that first time you found out you couldn't moonwalk, that summer after 4th grade in Cleveland, etc, etc, but there's tiny unknown little cover band called Neda and the Protesters, and the projectile celebrity worship is drowning them out.
So I sort of want to call for a moratorium on mention of He Who Was Weirder Than Greek Gods. Except that the bad jokes are already flying: Did you hear Elton John's going to re-tool his tribute song? Yeah, he's calling it "Candle In My Pocket (Reach In There, Billy)".
Yes, yes, we're all going to hell.