And we can hope for more. We can hope Lance gets lost in space, popping and locking in orbit for eternity. Talk about, "bye bye bye!"
Secretly I have been helping America and the world in a similar way for a couple decades, ridding the world of bad pop stars because, let's face it, bad pop is a bad thing for all of us. For example, I sent 98 Degrees on a secret space mission a couple years ago, and we really haven't heard from those boys since, thank the Good Lord.
Color Me Badd? Stranded on Mars since the early ‘90s. I did that.
Yet I have done much for the good of this planet (OK, maybe not for Mars), because I am, first and foremost, a humanitarian.
I wrote "Copacabana," the most irritating pop song in history, for Barry Manilow, knowing it would soon kill his career. Barry and his spangled jumpsuits and industrial-size hair spray can mostly then disappeared for two decades, although I saw an ad promoting that he had or will have a special on network television this month. The good thing is I think it is on CBS, which means no one will watch it.
I never stop my fight against bad pop. How about this? That cute fella in tight trousers who went into the park bathroom in Beverly Hills following George Michael? I sent him.
Yes, I am the one who told Bobby Brown to romance Whitney Houston, and bring his crack pipe.
It was me who said, "Hey Mariah, isn't it about time for a movie career and another Ding-Dong?"
I said to Michael Jackson, "Always refer to yourself as the King of Pop. People will love that. And keep doing that look-away crotch grab move. It may be 20 years old, but everyone still loves it. And if you keep doing the same song over and over, just change the words a little, it will be madly wonderful."
Was I right or was I right?
(I didn't have anything to do with all the facial surgery. That was Michael's idea. Even I'm not that twisted.)
The whole "divas" performances thing? Mine, all mine.
I said to Hammer just as he was at his career peak, "Hammer, what you really need is about 9,000 people on stage with you, none of them dancing in time with anyone else."
The sudden disappearance of Rick Astley? That was someone else's work, but fine work indeed.
I am finally going public with my noble endeavors because I have done a lot of good for this nation and this world. Bad pop is a horrible thing for society, and if starts just being accepted as something normal, if no one battles it, it just kind of takes over and tears at the core of our humanity. People get depressed, people get sick and many people never recover from exposure to bad pop.
Who can forget the horror, the trauma, the absolute despair in our society during the Christopher Cross era of pop? Or even worse, who can forget the many convulsions people went into when Toto would come on the car radio?
I am not asking for much of an acknowledgment. All I want is to be honored in one of those Kennedy Center tributes, where the president and his good-lookin', round-heinied missus sit in the balcony and wave at the honorees and get misty-eyed when the honorees' many accomplishments are listed. I can see myself honored along with others who have meant just as much to our culture, people like John Updike, Itzhak Perlman, Martin Scorsese, Kitty Carlisle.
Yes, I am proud of my work. By ruining the careers of bad pop stars, by putting their pop horrors to a stop, I have made the world a better place.
The good thing is I haven't had to kill any bad pop stars yet.
But Celine Dion's comeback is tempting me.