Bye-yo Jacko!

Farewell Jacko and thanks for giving us all one last carnival ride.

Your death has been the pop-culture-make-news event we needed leading into a summer holiday. Truly, you’ve outdone yourself. In bars and clubs, TV and the Internet, people have really gone into ‘halcyon-colored-glasses’ mode. People are digging your music. Your popularity has re-energized those who had written you off as just too weird to like. There have always been those rabid fans that were supportive even through your child molestation trial, plastic-surgery metamorphosis and toddler dangling.

“Michael’s just a child. He’s so innocent that you evil-accusers can’t understand his sensitivity”, the true believers would protest. Anyway, no matter what weirdness – from the hyperbolic sleeping cabinet, to the military clothing, finger bandages, face masks even the adoption of a chimpanzee for a best friend, there was always the music and the dancing.
The last defense for the maladjusted, disturbing behavior was your talent. If put into a corner, the final defense from your legions was always “Uh, well, ok. But look at his talent. What a dancer! What an entertainer!”

The phenomenon is that your death has pushed you back into the mainstream. Totally eclipsed poor Farrah – who by the way had really done a lot of lead-up work to publicize her imminent demise. Sadly, that tactic seems to have been like an overly promoted movie that gets sucker-punched on it’s opening weekend by a sneaky sleeper hit.

Truth is, it’s more comforting to forgive and forget those accusations than to hear, over and over again about the terrors of butt cancer. BUT, to be effectively pardoned in the court of public opinion for accusations only NAMBLA endorses is miraculous. How did you do it!?

Well, number one, you’re no longer a threat to children. And secondly, after the wave of “King of Pop Forever” merchandising passes, no more disturbing photos in our faces. No more appearances where non-believers are cheering for your nose to defect from your face.

Even as details of forged coroner reports and incessant replays of the 911 tape assault us, rationalizations for your bizarreness are being formulated by seemingly normal people.

Here are the facts as I’ve had them explained to me:

• Daddy Joe beat you when you missed a note or dance step. So, naturally, as you matured and started looking like him, you shaved your nose down to the size of an eel’s. Check. Ditched the ‘fro for Jheri curls, but that caught on fire from Pepsi. Really? Ok.
• Beset by vitilago and with millions on the bank, you decided to even out your skin tone. Oh, that’s understandable.
• Robbed of your childhood, you made your home into a place where you could feel young forever. A’ight. Then, to make up for all those sleepovers you missed while you were on the road touring, you brought in kids to have sleepovers.

Uh, well, ok. But look at his talent. What a dancer! What an entertainer!