And let's hear it for . . . the undertakers

All it needed was Sir Elton John wheeling out his all purpose memorial anthem Candle in the Wind to make the day complete.

Michael Jackson's funeral-come-concert was Oscars meets Edgar Allen Poe meets Yardley Crem. There must be a word that combines naff and glitz but glaff and nitz don't quite do it.

It wasn't bad taste or good taste just no taste with just about every word saccharine coated hyperbole.

The problem with the celebritocracy we seem to now live in is that even minor celebrities - i.e. once seen in an episode of EastEnders - have to be lauded and praised to the heavens when they pop their clogs. So when a star like Jackson goes it now has to be a full Hollywood production number with the event bigger than the star.

The next development I suppose will be pre-recorded messages like we get at award ceremonies when the recipient "can't be with us tonight because they are filming a toothpaste ad in Albania".

So get ready for the first memorial concert with "I'm sorry I can't be with you tonight but I am dead but I am with you both in spirit . . . and in the shiny box at the front."

As a funeral it had just about everything but dignity.