Good morning, dear reader. I know that there have already been thousands of blog posts written about the passing of Michael Jackson. Many questions have been asked about his legacy, about how he will be remembered. Which will stand out in the public psyche in one hundred years? Will is be his undeniable status as the one of the greatest performers in the history of music, or will it be the fallen genius who was almost surely a pedophile? Will there be a way to balance the two images that we create? Will we ever truly grasp that the real Michael Jackson is in all likelihood entirely dissimilar from the social construct that is a result of tabloid media, celebrity culture, and our own imaginations?
Perhaps you can tell by my opening tone that I am – and will always be – a huge Michael Jackson fan1. Yes, I recognize there are certain problems here. I’m not going to defend him blindly. I see the path into which MJ fell as a consequence of the abuses that he suffered as a child himself. Childhood – real, authentic childhood – became the unattainable unicorn of his life; and his world shattered as he tried to reclaim it. This is not a defense; it is merely an observation. If you’re interested in a well-reasoned and articulate exploration of the troubles that plagued Michael, I can direct you to a couple of blogs I fancy penned by writers more knowledgeable and articulate with the subjects of abuse and psychological trauma than I (just email me – paduanbenedick [at] gmail [dot] com – if you’re interested).
I am sorry that Michael died before he could begin the type of transformative healing that we saw in John Lennon through the 1970s. John was an especially virulent misogynist in his youth and early career; but, interestingly enough, it was feminism that healed him. Have you ever heard his song Mother? Painful, honest, and gripping, it is one of his most impressive songs – and one of the hardest to really listen to2. I wish that Michael had found the opportunity and the Muse for that type of healing.
I’d like to take the opportunity to share my favorite of Michael Jackson’s songs with you. There are at least a dozen candidates for “favorite,” I know, but this one usually wins out for me. Songs like We Are the World and Black and White that directly confront human issues and frailties are wonderful and brilliant and moving. But this one – this one is Gandhi set to music3. Released as a single six days after I turned eleven years old, from the album Bad, I give you Man in the Mirror. Enjoy.
I’ll be back later today with a proper update, my friends. I hope you each have a great day.
Until next time, take care of each other.
Make that change.
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1 – I believe that I own every one of his albums. They’re in a box in the garage with most of my CDs. Digging them out this weekend would probably be worth the collateral embarrassment of finding the countless discs collectively entitled I Can’t Believe i Actually Used to Listen to This Crap.
2 – Dammit, there’s just no way to refrain from ending that sentence with a preposition without being way too awkward.
3 – You must be the change you wish to see in the world – Mahatma (Mohandas) Gandhi
