Michael Jackson is perhaps the sickest, most ridiculous freakshow walking the planet today. He’s a human fairy tale that with a moral that goes “this is how far out of touch with reality you can get when you become a celebrity.”
Jackson has literally been a star since he was a young child. He was the star of the Jackson 5 and as he matured he became one of those rare talents who come along once a decade or so. His career really has been comparable to the Beatles and Elvis & without a doubt he is immensely skilled at what he does. But, when you’re the type of person who’s literally capable of generating hundreds of millions of dollars every time you make an album, people cater to your every whim just to get a little piece of that money. Even if the sycophants and record company executives don’t hand you everything you want, when you have as much money as Jackson does, there is no fetish you can’t indulge, no type of discomfort that you have to endure, and no fantasy you can’t afford to explore. The more you’re feted, the more often you expect it and the more you start to gather people around you who’s only desire seems to be to please you in every way. Eventually, because you never hear the word “no” and because you are totally surrounded by “yes men”, you start to believe that you can do no wrong.
Then when you remake the world around you into a surreal, delusional dreamscape with personal petting zoos and your own “Neverland Ranch”, it seems to make perfect sense to you. That’s what you want and your agent, and your “friends”, and your hangers on tell you what a great idea is. Eventually things start to get weirder and weirder. You start having one plastic surgery after another, dressing like some sort of French super-hero, and you sign up for a sham marriage to help your career. Then you start to hear a little hesitation in your “friends” voices when you ask them what they think. But they still give it the thumbs up and besides, you’re Michael “freaking” Jackson, the man who made Thriller. It’s all good right? Then it’s on to the kids. I don’t even want to know about the kiddie version of “Indecent Proposal” that Jackson must be running over and over on kids who’ll probably spend the rest of their lives in therapy. Any parent who hands their kids over for quality time with Michael Jackson at his little pedophile theme park should be publicly flogged until the whip hits spine. Yet, you almost always see Jackson surrounded by cheering little kids. I bet Jackson has doled out more hush money to molested kids in his career than the GNP of Lebanon was last year. But since he’s Michael Jackson, everyone stays quiet, the music execs keep smiling, and Michael keeps thinking it’s all OK.
So when you hear Michael Jackson talking about a “conspiracy to turn the public against him”, understand that he believes it. When Jackson goes on TV saying the music industry turned against him because he “broke Elvis’ record and the Beatles’ record in sales”, know that he’s not just shooting off his mouth. One day, as Jackson’s money starts to run out, he’ll start hearing the truth from all of his “friends” and his whole little world will collapse around him. Either he’ll end up in jail for child molestation, in an insane asylum, or he’ll finish his life living like a recluse in some secluded mansion far away from the people in the “conspiracy” who “destroyed his career.” If anyone thinks money and fame alone will solve all your problems or even that celebrities know more than you do just because they’re “famous”, let Jackson’s life be a sad warning to you.