JLF: Michael Jackson. Oh, the Empathy!
Johnny Lead Foot here, and I'm insightful...
I, like everyone, enjoyed his music, but I'm not going to fawn over his music. I'm going to write about this intense, universal sadness with his death. The world is hurting, and that makes me think of an important question...
Is the world hurting because they won't see Michael perform again? Is the world hurting because we won't have another Michael Jackson album? Is the world hurting because his voice won't be lent to another cause?
OR
Is the world sad that Michael Jackson never found happiness?
It's an interesting issue because... I only write about interesting issues. You know this already, because you love me like a deity. Let's explore.
At the crux of the situation is that we all know Michael was a fallen star. That is a fact, and the passion his fans have for him comes equally from their awe over his talent as from their empathizing with his inability to assimilate with society. No one wanted to see Michael surgically destroy his face and build an amusement park where he spent the night with young boys, feeding them "Jesus Juice," what he called wine. No one wanted to see him showing up for court in a molestation case hours late, in his pajamas. No one wanted to have him get sued by tens of people for tens of millions of dollars in un-paid bills.
We wanted to see him live a life like Bono does. Or Paul McCartney. We wanted to see Michael buy an apartment in a NYC skyrise and go running in Central Park. We wanted him to come to a celebrity-packed recording session for "awareness on climate change" while wearing jeans and a turtle neck. We wanted to see Michael kill at another Super Bowl half-time show. We wanted to see Michael produce young artists and do a tour with an orchestra where Billy Joel opened for him.
Instead, we sat at the periphery, partially blinded from the circus that was his life. He surrounded himself with Yes Men and no one seemed to step up and alter the course Michael was traveling down. And we could just watch...
And why are we so vested in Michael? We have seen plenty of artists die early, but Michael is unique. When Heath Ledger died, we cared a bit. When Kurt Cobain killed himself, a gentle wave of sadness rolled across the planet... sure. When River Phoenix died, there was a pop of concern. But Michael? The world came to a stop, essentially. The internet melted and websites like CNN.com and Facebook crashed. Everyone (almost) is sad. Why was Michael so special?
His talent was unique. He was a child prodigy, a Mozart of sorts. He was so young and so talented. At 9 years old he was performing like Elvis. If it had ended there, it wouldn't have been a surprise. Lots of child stars fall apart, but Michael? He left the Jackson 5 and, as a solo artist, changed entertainment. He defined the pop music industry. Michael didn't just come out with good albums, he came out with perfect albums, developed the concept of the music video and proved how effective it was to make music visual.
He really changed the world. And, while he was doing this, his face slid around, piece by piece. His skin color changed. We read stories about pet monkeys and bleaching and extravagant spending and molestations and sleeping in oxygen chambers. We didn't want this side-show freak performance. We just wanted the heart-felt artist. Instead, we watched insanity, and there was a part in all of us that said, "Buddy. Calm down. Leave the little boys alone. Get over your pain. Just be happy and make music."
There was such sadness surrounding his life. Michael, clearly, struggled with the reality of his lost childhood and was constantly searching for what he never had. But that's the thing about depression. It seems so obvious to everyone looking in, but the depressed individual? He doesn't see it.
Now, as for the elephant in the room: his molestation of children was appalling. (He wasn't guilty, you say? No one has to pay off a handful of kids because they did nothing wrong.) Of course, Jackson was an asshole for how he treated young boys, but isn't that just another way he missed his potential? It gave him that much more room to compensate for in his quest to reach that happiness. It was the greatest reason we wanted to yell, "Buddy! Calm down! Leave the little boys alone! Get over your pain! Just be happy and make music!"
So, hate me not focusing solely on his inappropriate relationship with children. I don't care. I'm pointing out something interesting: The world is sad... but it's not how much they'll miss M.J., it's how much we'll miss what he never grew up to be.
Always your pleasure.
- JLF
At the crux of the situation is that we all know Michael was a fallen star. That is a fact, and the passion his fans have for him comes equally from their awe over his talent as from their empathizing with his inability to assimilate with society. No one wanted to see Michael surgically destroy his face and build an amusement park where he spent the night with young boys, feeding them "Jesus Juice," what he called wine. No one wanted to see him showing up for court in a molestation case hours late, in his pajamas. No one wanted to have him get sued by tens of people for tens of millions of dollars in un-paid bills.
We wanted to see him live a life like Bono does. Or Paul McCartney. We wanted to see Michael buy an apartment in a NYC skyrise and go running in Central Park. We wanted him to come to a celebrity-packed recording session for "awareness on climate change" while wearing jeans and a turtle neck. We wanted to see Michael kill at another Super Bowl half-time show. We wanted to see Michael produce young artists and do a tour with an orchestra where Billy Joel opened for him.
Instead, we sat at the periphery, partially blinded from the circus that was his life. He surrounded himself with Yes Men and no one seemed to step up and alter the course Michael was traveling down. And we could just watch...
And why are we so vested in Michael? We have seen plenty of artists die early, but Michael is unique. When Heath Ledger died, we cared a bit. When Kurt Cobain killed himself, a gentle wave of sadness rolled across the planet... sure. When River Phoenix died, there was a pop of concern. But Michael? The world came to a stop, essentially. The internet melted and websites like CNN.com and Facebook crashed. Everyone (almost) is sad. Why was Michael so special?
His talent was unique. He was a child prodigy, a Mozart of sorts. He was so young and so talented. At 9 years old he was performing like Elvis. If it had ended there, it wouldn't have been a surprise. Lots of child stars fall apart, but Michael? He left the Jackson 5 and, as a solo artist, changed entertainment. He defined the pop music industry. Michael didn't just come out with good albums, he came out with perfect albums, developed the concept of the music video and proved how effective it was to make music visual.
He really changed the world. And, while he was doing this, his face slid around, piece by piece. His skin color changed. We read stories about pet monkeys and bleaching and extravagant spending and molestations and sleeping in oxygen chambers. We didn't want this side-show freak performance. We just wanted the heart-felt artist. Instead, we watched insanity, and there was a part in all of us that said, "Buddy. Calm down. Leave the little boys alone. Get over your pain. Just be happy and make music."
There was such sadness surrounding his life. Michael, clearly, struggled with the reality of his lost childhood and was constantly searching for what he never had. But that's the thing about depression. It seems so obvious to everyone looking in, but the depressed individual? He doesn't see it.
Now, as for the elephant in the room: his molestation of children was appalling. (He wasn't guilty, you say? No one has to pay off a handful of kids because they did nothing wrong.) Of course, Jackson was an asshole for how he treated young boys, but isn't that just another way he missed his potential? It gave him that much more room to compensate for in his quest to reach that happiness. It was the greatest reason we wanted to yell, "Buddy! Calm down! Leave the little boys alone! Get over your pain! Just be happy and make music!"
So, hate me not focusing solely on his inappropriate relationship with children. I don't care. I'm pointing out something interesting: The world is sad... but it's not how much they'll miss M.J., it's how much we'll miss what he never grew up to be. Always your pleasure.
- JLF
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