the circus

is michael jackson in the ground, yet? and if so, can we throw the news story in there with him, and just hand me a shovel. i'll give this thing a proper burial.

it happened when dale eanhardt died, too.

people who had never met the guy, and never even had their lives touched by him directly or indirectly, aside from the fact that they liked to watch him on tv, are weeping like confused children.

no, i'm not sad michael jackson is dead. in fact, at first i was a little bit happy for the guy. he lived a fucked up, painful life. he is probably a lot less miserable right now. the only problem was, he might be out of his misery, but michael jackson's death put him right smack dab in the middle of our misery. shut the hell up about him, already. there are two reasons michael dying is a good thing. one: he's better off dead. two: the simpsons ran both the bartman video in its entirety, and the classic episode in which homer is commited to a mental institution where he befriends a michael jackson impersonator. these simpsons pieces brought back memories of a time when the simpsons was, without a doubt, the best thing to happen to television, rather than the inane, hacky, recycled crap it is today.

but the state of the simpsons is beside the point. these simpsons memories also stirred up my nostalgia for a time when i gave two shits about michael jackson; a time when i just had to watch the premier of his new video, a time when i memorized the words to his songs, and practiced dancing like him in my bedroom while i blasted thriller or beat it, a time when i would go out of my way to watch the wiz. jackson made some great music, sure, but he stopped making great music some time ago. quit clinging. it's not like his death in any way affects the chances that i will bump into him at the long john silver's and become his new BFF... yup, chances are still zero. not that i would want to be michael jackson's BFF. i'd end up at some deposition, explaining under oath about how he does or doesn't fondle little boys.

what's more, i don't think michael jackson went to heaven. for one, i don't think "heaven" exists. but mostly because i think heaven is not so much a place you go to after you die, but the state of your conscience at the time of death. to face death with confidence, with no regrets, with a feeling of satisfaction with your life; that's heaven. death as an afterlife? as an afterlife, to be carried on, with love, in the hearts and minds of those you leave behind, that is heaven as an afterlife, and michael jackson certainly will have that. people won't shut up about that. but to die a troubled soul. that is hell. to die knowing that your life was nothing more than an empty, materialistic, orgy of money, celebrity, and plastic, hollow, love. to die knowing that all you did with your life was try to be something you're not, and you never achieved this, but instead allowed this to cripple your soul. to die knowing that, whether or not you truly hurt other people, or whether or not you meant to, that you lived a life that caused people, for decades, to believe, with certainty, that you did. to know that your death meant nothing more to your family than free publicity to move some of their own wares, and that the people who "cared" most about you, are people that never knew the first thing about you, never saw the real you, and never loved you for who you are. to believe that the person you really are has to be hidden, to be mutilated into something that people can love more than the the real you. to look at the man in the mirror and not know who he is, or worse yet, to not love him. that is hell.

and i don't care how many weeping morons you pack into the staples center, or how many cars you get backed up on the 405 (like any one would notice), nothing is going to change the way michael felt about his life, now.