Wow. Michael Jackson died. Shocker.
Do you hear the sarcasm?
It's not that I don't respect what he did for the music and entertainment industry, or that I don't think he was extraordinarily talented, or that I don't think it's profoundly sad that he died. (It's profoundly sad when anyone dies.) It's just that I really feel that what was sad was his life.
MJ was clearly emotionally disturbed. He exhibited bizarre behaviors, he had severe self-image problems that led to anorexia and severe self-mutilation (yes, all that disgusting plastic surgery was a form of self-mutilation,) and he was addicted to drugs. What did people think was going to happen? Why do we wait until something tragic happens to decide to mourn? Why didn't all the people that profess to love him try to save him?
I know, I know, it's really not that simple. When someone is alive, his life is private and not for us to intrude. Everything only becomes public and sad after their death.
But honestly, MJ's death was not a shock to me. I have been sad about his life for a long time. I certainly hope that he is at peace now.