About On The Dig
2009
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I woke up this morning feeling honest. I'm shocked by Michael Jackson's death, yes. I'm numb and sad and anxious. However, here's the deeper truth: Michael Jackson had not been part of my daily consciousness in years. I removed him. I removed his so-called ugly from my so-called clean mind. The removal started when MJ had the first bit of obvious plastic surgery. Then I saw what was happening to his coloring and removed him a bit more. By the time rumors began to spread about his ambiguous sleepovers with pre-pubescent boys I was, well, done. I think the alleged "Jesus Juice" was the final straw. I have spent the last decade judging Michael. I refused to believe his coloring was a result of Vitiligo. I don't even remember him being diagnosed with Lupus in 1986. I was not convinced his children were biological. I would argue with anyone that they were genetically-engineered. I tuned out Michael's on-air outrage when investigators took pictures of his penis, looking for "a mole". He was a pedophile, I thought, and any type of scrutiny should be enforced.
As I peruse Facebook updates on Michael's genius and add some of my own, a large part of me feels like an imposter. I certainly, and without question, adored MJ. His voice, moves and innocence are unforgettable. It's clear he shaped his life around his fans. It's clear he decided long ago that he was put on this planet to bring joy to the masses. To thrill the masses. That's why I feel like a big grieving, judgmental imposter. I loved Off the Wall and Beat It like nobody's business, but I was one of millions who watched him deteriorate under public gaze and said nothing. Believed in fact that his wavering health was a result of public expectation and lashing. In a way, MJ was the most amazing consumer product ever designed and once it lost some its vitality, well, I turned up my nose and tossed it in the trash with the other junk.
I'm saddened by the loss of Michael Jackson and the madness of his music will always get to me, but I honestly don't feel I'm completely worthy to mourn like a true-blue unwavering fan. I judged him horribly.
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P Diddy had very precisely described the genius of Michael Jackson: "He showed me that you can actually see the beat. He made the music come to life. He made me believe in magic."
Check other notable tributes paid to Michael Jackson by peers:
http://www.tributespaid.com/category/m/michael-jackson
Transgender? Interesting. I certainly felt like he was morphing [or morphed] into an androgynous, race-less entity. Very complicated person. He was seeking purity, I believe. A very difficult task here on Earth.
Thanks for the link.
In terms of my loss, I'm (as someone else said) primarily sad about losing the Michael Jackson I grew up with more than anything else. I'm also sad for him, that the path he took didn't bring him peace or lasting happiness while alive.
Another site has photos up of MJ's face to show the progression of surgical/structural changes. It struck me that he didn't look like someone trying to change his ethnicity -- he looked transgender. If I think back to other things like changes in his speaking voice, that's what seems more likely as well.
Normally, I would argue in favor of believing MJ's claim that he had vitiligo: I hate it when people refuse to believe *I* have the impairments I do, and a close high-school friend with severe vitiligo often fought mistrust in others. However, vitiligo whitens hair, too; while MJ could have dyed his eyebrows/eyelashes/hair black, that doesn't explain why photos show him with black facial stubble. I'm not sure how (or if) that fits into my theory that he wanted to be a woman, though.
Here's a paragraph from the AllMusic blog that probably sums up what you and a lot of others are feeling:
See the full blog entry In Tribute: Michael Jackson by Stephen Thomas Erlewine
MJ was like that cousin you see at family reunion once a year. You don't really know him but he touched your life in so many ways - through his parents or the bond of family (having your back, etc). MJ's music made you feel that you knew him. Although with him being so complicated and you not having that extremely close relationship you don't really know him at all but still he is such a big part of your life (closer thant the cousin you see once a year). I like you Keith, also stopped believing in him because I could just not figure him out. But he will always be a part of me. And yet I mourn. Rest in peace MJ.
Who could have guessed, way back then, that here was a little boy who would grow up to be a little boy who liked little boys a little bit too much?
I've never liked to see children perform as adults, and Michael Jackson had to do that from the start. Unlike most child stars, who get to play children -- think Shirley Temple or the insufferable MacCauley Culkin -- Michael's performances had to take on adult themes almost from the very start. There's something sickening about that -- to the child, certainly, and to any child-valuing adult. It's deforming. It's stifling. It's stunting.
That little boy didn't get to be a little boy in any sense we can think of. It's no wonder he grew into what he became, an incredibly talented performer with a twisted mind and emotional disfigurement that played itself out on his face and body for all to see at his command.
His lupus was said to be in remission before his death. His skin color could have been restored, according to the Mayo Clinic, in its article on the treatment of vitiligo.
Does anyone really think -- and these are serious questions -- that in the end he liked the way he looked, that he wanted to appear as artificial as a doll, that he'd been aiming for that appearance all along?