When Michael Jackson’s Death Marks Life

For someone who was never really a fan of Michael Jackson, rarely listened to his music, and only recently downloaded “Billy Jean” after hearing someone play a nice cover of it, my heart sure feels heavy with the burdens that come with death.

While I appreciate he was a true talent by both music and choreographic standards, I don’t believe this is why my throat aches thinking about was has transpired over the last week. I didn’t feel this way Thursday, Friday, hardly Saturday. But I feel this sudden dread today because I appreciate now that this man has been the victim of brutal mental rape, forget the physical abuse he likely also endured. We unfortunately live in a world where the cold truth is that people want to score out on top and few behave altruistically or give themselves to honesty. I, in part, credit this to our nature, but I don’t use this as an excuse. Our society has accelerated the idiocy and shallow perceptions. It becomes so difficult to trust any good intentions when they are emerged in a soup of cruel ones.

I find it incredibly depressing that the media that sucked the life from this man is the same media attempting to pump it back with their commentary. What makes it even more disheartening is that their intentions have remained the same throughout. I am of the camp that at one point didn’t care enough to think critically about the accusations against Michael Jackson. I had drank from the wrong well and let the fluid poison my judgment. What can seem like an incapacity for myself to think critically was merely an unwillingness. “Michael Jackson is a pedophile” — Okay. “Michael Jackson wants to be white.” — Hmm, okay. “Michael Jackson is a freak.” — Sure, why not? I really hadn’t thought much about these things since the time of the 2005 trial, but I feel guilty now for not being quickly critical at the time. Moreover, it is not until now that it really hits me that I’m not currently thinking nearly as critically as I should be. It is not until now that it really hits me that many of us aren’t, even when we desire to be. It is the readiness to soak up information like a sponge without ever checking facts that permits us to feel content with not caring. Passive acceptance of any information is what will continue to fuel the fires.

We teach people to feel ugly. We teach people to hate. We’re not critical. We’re not skeptical. We’re pathetic fucking sheep. The very thing I’ve despised in other areas of my life, I’ve failed in this aspect through simple unwillingness. I am sorry for falling. June 25th marks something more than the loss of a humanitarian.