Death Becomes Him...Part 2

Death always fascinates us, no matter how much we deny it. Most fear death; but fear is itself a form of fascination.

For the last couple of weeks, there is not bigger problem in this world that the death of Michael Jackson. The interest and furor surrounding MJ’s death is a reflection of our insatiable interest in celebrities and death; a very toxic mixture.



This is a sad fragment of pop culture / history and I have devoted at least three blogs for it. This might be the last; my final say.

Considering that I wrote my blog tribute to MJ (Confessions Of A Fan Who Hates Michael Jackson) in pure honestly, I already expected some lashing from fans I might insult in the process. My title alone begs for an argument. But I am not apologizing. Seeing Paris Jackson sob does little to the fact that MJ was a trainwreck waiting to happen.

For the sake of balance, I did get some raves and even sympathy from keen observers of pop culture. A friend commented: I had the same issues too, I’m surprised that my iPod didn’t have MJJ... cringing at the supposed orphans of faux fans he left behind.

In this oh-so-kind world, it is blasphemy to criticize or berate a person in death. It is an unspoken karmic deed: when our turn comes to lie on that fated coffin, then we want the living to remember us in glory. Our failures and unscrupulous acts are extinguished with our last breath. Hence, death becomes our atonement and our pathetic apology. It also becomes a vindication for the victims of our vendetta.

The tributes for MJ were overwhelming and inspiring. But I know a lot of people are asking: why wait until he died to give this outpouring of love and support? Where are these supposed legions of fans when it was not cool to adore him?

Of course, Michael understands this as human nature. But I won’t fault him if he asks from this grave: Why, why did you do me that way?

I must admit that being THE Michael Jackson is in itself "dangerous." We can't even imagine how it is like to be him. In consequence, we can never really understand. But I still think that Michael is both predator and prey, both victim and tormentor.

To drive my final point home, I think Michael’s life (like everyone else’s), is too complex to be judged by the short-listed episodes that made it to the evening news and gossip pages. He is not his skin, his supposed drug use, his Bubbles.

So with all these facets, we just have to look at that which made the most impact. The one the shone brightest and made him the icon of this generation. The one that refuses to join him in his grave.

I think you can figure that one out for yourself.

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I found the photo above and it is an interesting snapshot and comprehensive summary of the life of MJ the artist. Click it to view in a larger format.

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Some comic relief:

The sister of a friend said: Ate, wag ka na umiyak dahil wala na si Michael Jackson. Nandyan pa naman si Regine Velasquez! (Don’t weep over the death of Michael, we still have Regine).