So... wow...

If you haven't heard by now, you've clearly been living under a rock - a big rock with no internet access.

Michael Jackson, the prodigal King of Pop, has died suddenly at the age of 50, just weeks before he was set to launch his string of comeback shows that were to be the big be-all and end-all finale of his career.
Sadly, fate got the better of those plans for world re-domination.

As for me... I was never the sort of Jackson fan who would hang off a security gate screaming my lungs out brandishing a copy of Thriller thrust through the bars, begging for it to be blessed with a scrawled signature - but I did appreciate what a damn fine singer, songwriter, mover, shaker, and all round enigma Jackson was. I blame my initial knowledge of his existance on my cousin Jade, who jammed the Off The Wall LP in my face whilst professing her plans to marry him at the age of 12... and the next minute warped into a card-carrying member of the KISS army with a boyfriend named Zane.
Go figure.

I personally loved his videos - Thriller and Scream still top the list - and his brief stint as a jack rabbit in leather in Moonwalker will always hold a special spot in my childhood heart.
I wanted a sparkly glove. I wanted a pet chimp. I wanted the magical ability to Moonwalk. Hell, I even tried morphing into a panther, and I was the girl who was going to grow up to be a unicorn and believed everything she saw on tv so I KNEW it was possible.

His upbeat songs like Black & White, Remember the Time, ABC, I Want You Back and Don't Stop til you Get Enough were the sorts of tunes that, when randomly played on the radio, would get any sedan shaking and bring an entire room to their feet to boogie their hearts out for 3 minutes and 30 seconds of shameless joy. Billie Jean would insight riots on the dancefloor for who could out thrust each other, whilst Smooth Criminal showed us that gravity was something to be questioned and defied... whilst still looking gangsta.
And of course, Thriller. Hot damn, that was awesome.

If only he'd left his nose alone.

None the less, he was an amazing artist and a true individual in a time where pop music and musicians might as well come with a Mattel stamp on their ass. I hope in the future years to come people will forget about the controversy that surrounded his personal life and the physical manifestations of his childhood traumas, the baby-dangling and the mask-wearing [even though with swine flu's sudden invention it's terribly fashionable now] and just focus on what he brought to Music and frankly, to the World.

MJ, you will be missed.







^{To all the people making jokes about his death, I don't really care if you liked him or not, he was still a human being and that sort of attitude sickens me.
If nothing else, spare a thought for his family and what they must be going through and how heartbreaking it would be for them to read that shit.
If you can't, then remind me to laugh about it when your child dies.}



And lest we forget the passing of an Angel - here's looking at you, kid.