It never ceases to amaze me how death can make even the most reviled monsters into wonderful heroes. In life, “Wacko Jacko” was branded a freak, a kiddie-fiddler, a madman… but now he’s dead, everyone loves the guy. For years, his CDs have sat gathering dust on record store shelves; a day after his death, they’re all sold out. It would surprise me less if Saddam Hussein’s birthday was proclaimed a national holiday in the USA. Crazy.
Of course, the public has always been pretty irrational when it comes to Jackson. Look at how his fans were convinced he wasn’t guilty of abusing young boys, simply because they liked his music. That kind of logic would have acquitted Gary Glitter of the child sex charges that got him sent to prison. I remember seeing the crowds of Jackson fans outside the courtroom when he was on trial, often in tears at the thought that their idol might be found guilty of a crime that he “obviously” hadn’t committed. Crazy.
Remember that kid Jordy Chandler, who alleged that he and Jackson had engaged in acts of kissing, masturbation and oral sex? Remember how he gave a detailed description of what he said Jackson’s penis looked like? A description that doctors who examined Jackson’s genitals reported bore a strong similarity to the real thing? Remember how Jackson paid $22 million for Jordy’s allegations to go away? Remember how his sister La Toya claimed he was a pedophile (an accusation she later withdrew – but for a woman to say such a thing about her brother in the first place is remarkable to say the least). Of course, none of the above means Jackson actually did anything wrong. But it’s interesting to remember these details about his life when we consider the guy’s recent elevation to sainthood.
Then there’s the drug abuse stuff. It’s said that he was addicted to Valium, Ativan, opiate painkillers and xanax. And the cosmetic surgery – people who’ve undergone much less work are diagnosed as suffering from surgical addiction. Is this the kind of person who should be considered a suitable role model for children? Apparently so. Crazy.
None of the above is meant as an attack on the memory of Michael Jackson. I don’t particularly think that his memory is something to be revered. But I’m not trying to put the guy down. I’m just saying that it’s damned weird how the whole world now thinks the sun shone out of his diseased-not-bleached butt.
Incidentally, I was looking for some pictures to illustrate this blog post and decided to check out Google Images. So I did an image search for “Michael Jackson”… Look what Google turned up! It’s like I was saying. Crazy!