Thoughts About Why Michael Jackson's Death Made Me Gaze Into The Empty Sky

I've been watching the dust settle from Michael Jackson dying and feeling pretty weird about it. It's fitting, no? Michael Jackson was weird. Hearing he died was weird. But reading the reactions to his death on the internet? My God, it's weirder than sleeping in an oxygen chamber with a pet monkey.

There's a lot of confusing conversation about whether or not we ought to care about Michael Jackson dying in a quirky debate about the ethics of mourning. He was a musical genius! some say, What a tragic loss. While others shriek Good riddance, pedophile!

It gets weirder. I've even read accounts of the relative values of celebrity loss on June 25th, 2009. Did Michael's death trump Farrah's? Some Farrah mourners were disappointed by the media's emphasis on Jackson's death. We'll miss Farrah but NOT Michael, they pouted.

In a similar way that I don't believe Mike Tyson deserved a dead daughter for being a rapist, I don't believe past allegations of pedophilia automatically strip Jackson of his inherent mournability. Would I feel differently if he molested my kids? Of course. But he didn't. And further, I don't think the substance of my my weird reaction to Jackson's passing has anything to do with the character of Michael Jackson as such. It's the death of Gods that always leave me hollow.

Michael Jackson is dead. Michael Jackson remains dead. And we have killed him.

It's plain today that the Gods make their presence known in the form of celebrity. I make this claim based solely on the power of celebrity's sway. Hey. Maybe a Psalm really gets your heart racing but, if so, you're in the minority. It's certainly not the collective case. We know much more about Brad Pitt than Jesus. Now, before you fire off a rude comment, please note that I'm not making a value judgment. I'm not saying that the way things are is necessarily a good thing or better than a situation in which the bulk of us cared about traditional forms of religion. I'm merely pointing out that the figures of popular culture captivate the American imagination in a profounder way than religious figures.

And traditionally, what are those entities that collectively captivate us and command our worship? Gods.

Listen. I'm only one out of almost 7 billion. But get this. I used to sit with my copy of Thriller and repeatedly try to draw Michael Jackson, leaning on his elbow in that slick white suit. What compelled me, I wonder, to crumple up sketch after sketch, trying to capture his likeness just right? I labored over the moon walk. There's an embarrassing photo of me at a middle school dance and I'm wearing a white glove. And I'm just one guy. What are your Michael Jackson stories?

Look at these people:

They are out of their minds. Beside themselves. Ecstatic. Now granted, Michael Jackson could sing and dance - let's not rob him of that - but if you really sit back and reflect on my stories, your stories, and the people in that video, did Micheal Jackson's talent genuinely warrant that worldwide collection of crazed reactions? Of course it didn''t. There's something else there. It's a need. A compulsion built into the fabric of the way we must live in the world. In the absence of relevant Gods, we require a reason to freak out in frenzied worship. We didn't love Michael Jackson. We loved loving God. That's what we do. And for a cultural moment, the Gods animated the movements of a kid from Gary, Indiana who would one day be the King of Pop. 

But the Gods always flee. And the sparkless ego spins its wheels in perpetual nostalgia for that time when it ruled the world. There's plastic surgery, pain pills, reckless spending, eating disorders, and little boys that spend the night. I have no doubt that Michael Jackson was as confused as you and me. Can you see the man in the mirror? He's perplexed and asking himself what the hell he's doing. He caught a lightning bolt. And then it was gone.

No one cares about Michael Jackson being dead. The man. The guy who put his legs in his pants one at a time. He took a shit. And belched. Nobody cares about that guy except his family and small circle of friends. But still his death resonates. It did with me. Because I remember being a part of that worldwide community who worshipped at his crotch grabbing altar. Man, he was something. But again, it wasn't about a talented guy named Michael. It was about being a witness to something sacred exploding in the profane world and being seized by it. 65 million copies of Thriller is a divine eruption. And even though the magic's been gone for decades, news of his death served to emphasize the extremity of magic's fickle nature. I mean the guy had us all in his hand. And from that to little boys in in his bed? But I refuse to dwell there. To be in awe of the remembrance of impersonal magic using a person to appear in no way condones the flaws of that person. I will never turn my back on magic.

But can we ever be as devoted to anything as we were to the Gods of our adolescence? It's a scary question. The times between Gods are so long and hard.

Rest, Michael Jackson.

Comments

[amber]

Holy cow, this is fantastic writing!

[Palinode]

Yowza trouza, what a fine piece of writing. I vote BHJ for the High Priest-King-Emperor of Important Stuff.

[Palinode]

Although I do not like the sound of an altar that grabs crotches.

[Holly]

This is the best thing I've read on Jackson's death. Your writing is absolute genius.

[LauraJT77]

that was amazing. You did it again BHJ. Great writing

[Leandra]

Wow. You have perfectly capture the reason we're all fascinated by Michael and Princess Diana and the like. I wish I could make everybody I know read this.

[Just Shireen]

Wow...just. Wow. Well done, sir.

[Sweetney]

yeah, i have to plug my post from this morning about this, "How Should We Mourn Michael Jackson?"

http://www.blogher.com/how-should-we-mourn-michael-jackson

I think me & BHJ should mind-meld. Love ya dude.

[Jenna]

I must say, when I saw your title, I almost didn't read it. I wasn't gripped by the Michael Jackson madness, and really couldn't care much less about his passing, his music or his sexual orientation, but, since you are my husband I decided I should probably read your article. Another great, and fresh perspective on a tired overly publicized death. Good job doll.

[Snarky Amber]

Once again feeling super proud to share a byline with BHJ. Well done, my friend and colleague.

[indycitygirl]

That is amazing writing and very powerful.Kudos to you BHJ

[clarabella]

"And the sparkless ego spins its wheels in perpetual nostalgia for that time when it ruled the world."

This sentence is gold.

Lovely (understatement) post.

I can't come close to writing anything well after reading this, but I identify & agree with your sentiment exactly.

I have mixed feelings about MJ's death (& the media coverage thereof) and how my adolescent memories of loving his music reflect my own reaction to it; but I will say this, I was only truly "sad" when I heard the NPR report about his sister Janet arriving at his rented home with a moving van. What a sad day for her and the rest of his family. So yes, the world mourns an icon in its own way, but a family mourns its brother, son, and father also. RIP MJ.

[ravenlynne]

Well said, man.

[LovelyLayla]

* I'm merely pointing out that the figures of popular culture captivate the American imagination in a profounder way than religious figures *

You totally made me think of John Lennon and his " Bigger than Jesus" comment from 1966. I think it's amazing how Pop Culture has been the Bible of our society. It seems like in order for us to live and learn, we are taught by living vicariously through celebrities, musicians, and athletes. Ryan Seacrest finds it necessary to produce shows about The Kardashians and Denise Richards. We spend countless amounts of money on magazines because Heidi and Spencer have managed to AW themselves again.
But I truly find comfort in knowing that when I have a bad day, and all is said and done...that I can curl up in my blankets, push play on my I-Pod and find solace in music.
Yes Michael Jackson was eccentric. There may have been a possibility that he did molest children. But when I listen to " The Way You Make Me Feel" I still get goosebumps all over. I'm not in any way, shape or form condoning any of his behavior, but merely suggesting that because of his enormous stature in Pop Culture, he lost control. And I honestly do not believe there would be anyone or anything that could have ever helped him. It makes my heart sad. But it also makes me sad that when someone I know personally dies, that no one knew of their accomplishments but those closest to them. You want to shout it out to the world that he/she did just as much for society as a celebrity, if not more. But it just doesn't work that way.
My grandma always used to say that reading the obituaries in the newspaper was something she always looked forward to because they were the only thing she could read about that always had something nice to say about anyone.

[[mark]]

"But can we ever be as devoted to anything as we were to the Gods of our adolescence?"

I would like to put forth the proposition that the gods of our adolescence are replaced by the angels of our adulthood...spouses, children, family and friends.

Those of us lucky enough to stumble upon this magic soon realize that it is impossible to recapture the explosion that is youth, but learn that the slow rolling tide that is the rest of life is equally as rewarding.

[Jes]

Seriously ... 65 million copies of Thriller? That's one copy for evey 100 people in the WORLD. Say what you will, but that's just amazing.

BHJ - v. well said indeed.

[Rami Ramirez]

Thank you for coming close to putting my feelings into words.

[Don Mills Diva]

Best piece I've read yet about his death - better than mine even, by a country mile actually.

[Jennifer]

Very well said BHJ!

[g]

Great writing, and thoughtful. I am in LA, where the memorial was, and the amount of our time, resources and dollars spent on it was phenomenal. I can only imagine what it was like to put together that event.

We know much more about Brad Pitt than Jesus. Now, before you fire off a rude comment, please note that I'm not making a value judgment.

This reminds me of the time John Lennon said the Beatles were more famous than Jesus, and took some flack for it. Funny.

[kate]

Exquisitely said, BHJ!
So exquisite that I referenced your post in my blog as the best I had read on his recent death. You are amazing.

[jensyn]

i really love what your saying but personally not only his family and a small circle of friends care about "that" michael i did too and i am a fan and love him!

[Karma]

beautifully written.