Behavior

Michael Jackson spent his final night alive in his favorite spot on Earth: the stage. At Staples Center on Wednesday night, the performer did a full run-through of his planned comeback concert. He and his company -- dancers, musicians, singers, aerial performers, choreographers and costumers -- planned to fly to England early next week for dress rehearsals at London's O2 Arena, the site of the superstar's 50-night sold-out run. By lunchtime Thursday, Jackson was in cardiac arrest.

So maybe it's not swine flu, but the nation seems to have come down with a serious case of impulse control disorder. Symptoms include (but are not limited to) Kanye West snatching Taylor Swift's moment at MTV's Video Music Awards; Serena Williams threatening, with expletives, to cram her ball down a lineswoman's throat at the U.S. Open; and Rep. Joe Wilson's inability to contain the urge to denigrate President Obama while the president was in the middle of addressing the nation on a topic of critical importance.

It was shortly after 7 in the morning when police spotted the man on a bicycle, a smear of blood around his mouth and more dribbling from cuts on his forearms. But he had an explanation. An ex-girlfriend "turned me on to vampirism," he told the officers, but he was ready to put all that behind him. Was there somewhere he could find a priest?

There was Rafael Nadal on Sunday after a shockingly disappointing upset loss to Robin Soderling at the French Open answering questions in two languages and manfully owning his disappointment and emotions. There wasn't LeBron James on Saturday night after his Cleveland Cavaliers exited the NBA playoffs being reminded that having the best regular-season record means, well, not so much after the playoffs start. There wasn't any James at the postgame media podium.

Swimmer Michael Phelps, who has won more gold medals than anyone in Olympic history, acknowledged Sunday he had engaged in "regrettable" behavior and shown "bad judgment" after a photo of him smoking what appears to be marijuana from a glass pipe was published in a British tabloid over the weekend.

There aren't many individuals in history whose names are taken in vain more than Capt. C.C. Boycott, the notorious Irish landlord who cut the wages of his tenant farmers and got himself ostracized -- and the English language enriched -- in return. The captain's name has seldom been out of public circulation since then. Yet every new boycott inspires vigorous discussion over whether this sort of pressure on the powerful is effective or fair. Currently on the table are two such actions: an advertisers' boycott of Fox News commentator Glenn Beck, and a shoppers' boycott of the Austin, Texas, grocery chain Whole Foods Market.

For workers at the popular Tsukiji fish market, the final indignity may have been when the intoxicated British tourist licked the head of a frozen tuna. In the now-notorious incident, captured by a Japanese TV crew, an irate market official shouted in English, "Get out! Get out!" as the man patted the tuna's gills. Every day, hundreds of sightseers gather in the predawn gloom to witness one of the most popular events on the Tokyo tourist agenda: the daily tuna auction.

Four days after a profanity-ridden audiotape of Christian Bale ranting at the director of photography on the set of "Terminator Salvation" hit the Internet -- launching a veritable tsunami of fan reaction, Web creativity (including a dance remix) and comedic skits on late-night talk shows -- the actor has finally done what many professional public-relations types have advocated all along: He owned up to his mistake and apologized for his bad behavior.

Of the many things that long-term alcohol addiction can steal -- careers, lives, health, memory -- one of its most heartbreaking tolls is on relationships. Alcoholics, researchers have long known, have a tendency to misread emotional cues, sometimes taking offense when none was intended or failing to pick up on a loved one's sadness, joy, anger or disappointment. The misunderstandings can result in more drinking, and more deterioration of relationships and lives. How does alcohol do all that?

Frank Gruber's workstation at AOL in Dulles, Va., could be in any cubicle farm from here to Bangalore -- pushpin board for reminders, computer on Formica desk, stifling fluorescent lighting. It's so drab, there's nothing more to say about it, which is why the odds of finding Gruber there are slim. Instead, Gruber often works at the Tryst coffeehouse in the Adams Morgan neighborhood here, at Liberty Tavern in nearby suburban Clarendon, Va.