This is my Michael Jackson Blog
There are many like it, but this one is mine.

I wasn’t doing anything special. I was writing some crap on Hegel and IMing. My friend texted, “Michael Jackson is dead!” So I opened up my TV screen and surfed over to CNN to see what the official word was only to read the Jackson was in a coma, and TMZ had reported that Jackson was dead.
“Holy Shit,” pretty much sums up how I felt. It also sums up how I felt when John Lennon died. It’s like a really nasty gash in my historical consciousness, so much so that I have to pause to contemplate what it really means for me, an everyday working drone who, like millions, bought the Thriller album. I’m not devastated; I am shocked. I think my discomfort at Michael Jackson’s death is that it’s just another reminder how irrelevant humanity is.

The death of Michael Jackson means the death in the myth of that Jackson really did make an impact on my life. It’s the death of a particular media consumption of Michael where I willingly feed off the gossip, videos, interviews, speculation under the guise that his stardom really influenced me when really, looking back, it was his influence on how the media influenced me. I already have my spaced cleared out for Jackson next to John Lennon, Kurt Cobain, Princess Dianna, John F. Kennedy Jr. where I anticipate more tell-alls, documentaries, star-studded tributes, and legal battles. I trade one cloud for another.

I’m thinking of Lisa Marie Presley who now has lost two men that had been the most important people in her life, and yet were two larger than life icons that were Warholized. I’m sorry for her grief, I suppose, but I would have liked to see things from her metaphorical satellite where I’m higher than the clouds.