“Fuck Michael Jackson.”
At least that’s what most people had in their collective minds before Jacko said (or gurgled) goodbye.
With his death, it’s produced a faux unity that’s now lapping up the contents of his pasty sack, whereas they once condemned it for its interaction with Macaulay Culkin. And I can‘t help but recall the reaction to Heath Ledger’s death. Before January 2008, the public was raving “fag this, homo that, LOL The Brothers Grimm.” By July, we’re wetting ourselves over sloppily-applied makeup and a performance that failed to outshine the previous Best Supporting Actor winner (Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men).
Earlier today, I saw a horde of people surrounding Michael Jackson’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I struck up a rapport with a few girls and engaged myself in a casual conversation regarding our favorite nutbag (Axl Rose excluded).
“What are your favorite songs by Michael Jackson?”
“Um, I love ‘Thriller.’ Like, right before I came here, I was watching it on YouTube.”
“Do you like any other songs off the album?”
“I don’t know what album it’s on.”
Please kill yourself. Back to the whole “Fuck Michael Jackson” bit.
The man was undoubtedly a stellar performer and produced a steady stream of hits that could’ve convinced Christopher Reeve to jump on the dance floor and bust a move, but let’s not put him on a higher pedestal than he’s already (and deservingly) attained. The least we could do for him is maintain a continuity of black/white, cosmetic, Mickey Mouse voice, Jesus Juice drinkin’, Elephant Man bonesin’, pedophiliac jokes as we’ve all done in record numbers before he croaked. Lord knows that Mikey could hardly give a shit now, and to endear ourselves to a blind pro-Jackson mentality would merely do his comprehensive legacy an inaccurate disservice.
Unfortunately, I’ve been encountering the complete opposite. Case in point, Perez “My real name is Mario Lavandeira” Hilton’s original post on the incident, which he’s since deleted:
Mario, please re-post that shit and cease your futile attempts at joining an upstart, bandwagon community that can hardly name 10 MJ songs (yourself included) sans Wikipedia’s assistance.
With every major celebrity death, I tend to venture onto YouTube’s highly intelligent comments section, where I was relieved to find a speckle of humor in a sea of “I am sad too, guys! Let‘s hug” banter. It warmed my heart so much, I had to click the little thumbs-up:
From the bottom of my heart, and with complete respect for the King of Pop, fuck Michael Jackson.
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