The King of Pop

Update: I grow to like Andrew Sullivan more each day, and here's a another reason why. Said much better than I could have.

I know you don't care, and regardless, it's not place to eulogize Michael Jackson. He was a bizarre individual from an incredibly fucked-up childhood - absolute super-stardom coupled with abuse. I have no idea if the the allegations made against him in the past 20 years are true, but they are troubling. He destroyed his own face and after the age of 30 really did everything he could to make himself a joke.

At the risk of waxing poetic, the King of Pop died long before Michael Jackson did. But on a day in which Farrah Fawcett also passed, and in a week that also saw the death of Ed McMahon, this one stands above as more than merely a "celebrity death." Because there was a time when he was king. The peak of Michael Jackson's fame and success came before or shortly after I was born. I don't remember the mania around Thriller or a time when the video to "Don't Stop Til You Get Enough" wasn't patently ridiculous. But goddamn I liked the music. And I think there are other people out there like me. I'm not what I would refer to as "fan." I wouldn't see him in concert or buy memorabilia. But I've long felt some sort of spiritual connection (for lack of a better term) with much of his music. He's been a mockery for a long time and was obviously not a well man - but he was still 6 months younger than my mother. Haters will hate and idealists will try to steer the public back onto Iran. But goddamn. This is sad.