The King of Pop. Beloved by everyone. Friend. Philanthropist. All-around fantastic human being.
Are we talking about the same Michael Jackson?
The King of Pop. Beloved by everyone. Friend. Philanthropist. All-around fantastic human being.
Are we talking about the same Michael Jackson?
The King of Pop. Beloved by everyone. Friend. Philanthropist. All-around fantastic human being.
Are we talking about the same Michael Jackson?
For the first portion of his career, no one could deny that Jackson was a star. He was the perfect mix of cute kid, incredible voice and charisma that wouldn’t quit. Even in his early adulthood, now known fondly as “The Thriller Years,” he was admired and heralded by fans and press alike.
However, in his later years, Jackson had been skewered as a plastic surgery freak, child molester and basically just about the strangest person on the planet.
It sickens me that his death has suddenly raised him to sainthood. Not because I judge him—I happen to think people are innocent until proven guilty. I also think the fact that he was hounded by the press every second of his life was fairly ridiculous. The reason I shudder at this newfound love of everything MJ is the hypocrisy of it all. The “mega-fans” that are singing his songs, holding tributes and defending him on the Internet are the same people who would have gladly burned him at the stake for being a pedophile just weeks ago.
Jackson’s passing was a sad event for his family and his true friends and fans. However, I am certain that most of the people who are making such a huge deal out of his demise couldn’t stand him up until the minute they found out that he was dead.
Not to mention the media, who was all too happy to butcher his name and reputation until the dollar signs appeared in their eyes at covering his tragic death.
I wonder how it is that a tragedy, whether it is death, severe illness or any sort of loss, suddenly transforms a person into something superhuman and beyond all reproach. How do people get so easily sucked into the media glorification of these people? It’s the two-faced conformity that is so hideous to me. Why do I have to be afraid to say I really didn’t care for MJ’s music? Or that I thought his relationships with children were highly inappropriate?
Just one month ago, I would have heard agreement, or even some terribly distasteful jokes about it. Now, it’s akin to insulting God himself.
Come on, people.