Jacko the Departed
Friday, June 26, 2009 at 11:44AM "No shit?!" I think was my first response to the news of Michael Jackson's passing my friend had offered from the other end of the telephone.
"It was on Fox News, so it's gotta be true", he jested.
We chortled loudly and I suddenly realized that a man had died of cardiac arrest and we could not contain our laughter about it.
Yet I did not feel the slightest bit remorseful.
Such was the ridiculous nature of Michael Jackson's existence.
Fame and money in the amounts that the "King of Pop" accumulated are surely not the balm for an emotionally (and physically) damaged man. They were probably the source of much of his ills. Certainly the enabling that they offered (along with his love-at-any-cost admirers) became quite frightening.
When you see the footage of these dimwitted monsters- his devoted apologists and die hard fans- weeping uncontrollably in the streets over the death of a severely twisted, degenerate pederast with a Peter Pan Complex and a melting skull face, you have to start wondering just what the fuck is wrong with us as a society. And how unhealthy is our love of celebrity.
If I have any sympathy at all for the man it is probably found in the vast, ironic loneliness he must have fought every day. I can imagine there were many uncontrollable sob sessions in front of the bathroom mirror somewhere in the middle of that palace on that expansive kingdom/ranch. Success and popularity to the degree which he attained is bound to alienate most anyone. Especially a child who was never really allowed to grow up and couldn't recall a time in his life when he wasn't fiercely in demand to "perform".
But none of that is an excuse for his crazed behavior. Arrested development needs a willing participant.
Waiting for his next bit of lunacy became a pastime for the media and a large portion of the world's population. His addiction to cosmetic alteration was the most disturbing. Can you imagine the self image of someone who would go under the knife so often that they would surrender their entire nose in the pursuit of some bizarre form of aesthetic worth? Not to mention his problems with ethnicity and skin tone.
But this freakish side show of a human being is gone now and the paparazzi, entertainment newspersons and gossip writers can only feed, buzzard-like, on his carcass one final time. Admittedly, that time will probably extend into weeks, but there you are with our sick obsessions once again.
I, for one, do not weep for the loss of Jacko. His music offended my good taste. His popularity was more a glaring indictment of the idiocy of our culture than any real appreciation of his limited talents. His foibles were pathetic. His actions... detestable.
I'm simply bracing myself for the next pop icon/brand-human the bastards will try to foist on us to fill the void.
Reader Comments (3)
Brutally frank and well put.
Ed McMahom's death, like his life, is nothing more than a sideshow.
Don't they always drop in threes? Who will be next?
I guess that would be Farrah.
Most offensive is that we, collectively, enjoyed watching a human being go mad in front of our eyes.