A rock ‘n roll icon died today in his late 50’s.  He went by the name of “Prince.”

So, what?  A lot of people died today.  Little people. Obscure people.  Ordinary people.  Why aren’t their names memorialized in the evening news?  Why aren’t their stories made into network documentaries?   What did Prince have going for him that the little people didn’t?

Is it that he was a substance abuser?   Or profane? Did he die prematurely because of a profligate lifestyle?

Was he an advocate for ideals that are wholesome and just?

Of course not.  He was a drug-head weird-oh.  Talented beyond measure, sure.  But a talented-beyond-measure weird-oh.

Prediction: The circumstances of his death aren’t known publicly yet, but once they are, we’ll learn that he died from some kind of abuse.

And our culture exalts this lifestyle?

My soul sickens every time one of these creepy pop icons dies.  Not because they die, but because of the adoring popular reaction.   These people are weird!  What does our culture revere in  brokenness?