…on Michael Jackson

It is sad that M.J. has done has last moonwalk, but make no mistake: the real sadness is about to plague the media for the next couple of weeks. There will certainly be a special cast of characters brought out of the woodwork to showcase just how pathetic the “King of Pop” existence was. For the next several months, we will be constantly hearing about the wrongful death, how the doctor is to blame and how people like the Reverend Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are there to aid and assist the family in their time of need.

We will allow grow pathetically tired of it.

Brining out people like Jesse Jackson and Sharpton do nothing but kill any sense of reality that this story had.

However, they do seem to serve as the most ideal representatives of a family that has mooched off of Michaels extreme wealth and good fortune–and they seem to be the ones to blame for Jackson’s condition.

Michael Jackson was in a very special group of Hollywood’s most elite, Liz Taylor, Liza Minelli and all the rest of the plastic population spending their good fortune obsessed with never growing old, yet looking so far away from the human condition that they don’t appear young, but moreso Alien.

Jackson, like most Pop artists, had a moment in time where he was a talent, a prodigy, a hero–but something seems to happen when you get as big as he did, some of the minds internal wiring came undone — so many friends, yet no one seems to care that you are killing yourself slowly inside–and they just stand by, waiting for him to unravel in front of their eyes–that must be the most sad thing about all of it–was that it very could have been that everyone in the world was his friend, yet no one could save him.

…and now, all we get to do is simply stand by and watch the vultures circle around his carcass, seeping each droplet of blood and gold that they can.

This is what makes the world such a sad place.